Chapter 4
His attention had not left my face.
“You said you tried to find her.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I called the hospitals. Then your foundation. I wrote twice after the public appeal.”
“I never received anything.”
“I received an answer.”
His expression changed.
“From whom?”
Before I could respond, a tall man with iron-gray hair stepped through the circle of onlookers.
Gabriel Costa.
Head of Moretti security.
I knew his name because it had been printed beneath the signature on the letter that told me to stop contacting the family.
He had aged since the photograph on the foundation website, but the eyes were the same.
Controlled.
Watchful.
The moment he recognized me, his right hand closed around the phone at his side.
A small movement.
Almost nothing.
I had spent years in restaurants learning that people often revealed the truth through what they touched when afraid.
Luca looked toward him.
“Gabriel?”
Gabriel’s gaze shifted from me to Sophia.
“This needs to move somewhere private.”
“I asked her a question.”
“Half the press corps is watching.”
Several phones were already raised despite the hotel’s no-photography policy.
Luca stood.
He looked at the guests.
“Delete every image.”
No one moved fast enough.
Vincent Russo, the Moretti family’s general counsel, stepped forward. He was in his early fifties, silver at the temples, with the dry expression of a man who had spent twenty years watching powerful people create paperwork for him.
“Luca, threatening four hundred donors before dessert creates unnecessary follow-up.”
“Handle it.”
“I am handling it by preventing you from becoming tomorrow’s headline beneath the phrase ‘charity miracle ends in mass phone seizure.’”
Luca looked at him.
Vincent looked back.
The tension lasted two seconds.
Then Luca turned toward the private corridor.
“Bring Sophia. Bring Ms. Carter.”
Gabriel moved as though to take control of the chair.
May you like
Sophia reached for me instead.
“I can walk.”
