Chapter 8 - The Meeting I Would Not Hide

Our fifth day in Chicago began with a call from the cemetery. The director apologized for the delay and explained that, without Victoria's consent, we would need a court order before the remains could be moved. Sarah had already prepared the petition, supported by my father's written wishes and my reasons for the relocation.

I had booked a flight to Zurich for that evening. The suitcase stood open beside Leo's bed, half packed with sweaters and picture books. He wanted to know whether our airplane would have windows like the one we'd taken to Chicago.

“Yes,” I told him. “And when we go home, you'll be able to watch the clouds again.”

I meant it. Whatever happened with the financial investigation, I would not keep him in a hotel because the adults around him could not stop fighting.

Then Sarah called to say the bank had formally reported suspicious activity and maintained the hold on Meridian's payment while an emergency review continued. Federal investigators examining possible wire fraud had requested interviews with the relevant witnesses. My evidence and the records from Harold and June could now be placed in a process that did not depend on Dante's permission.

“Do you want to change your flight?” Sarah asked.

“Only if there's something I must do in person.”

“There is an interview this afternoon. After that, you can travel unless the investigators ask otherwise.”

I agreed to attend. I would give them my signature history, my father's letter, and the timeline of my absence. I would not give them a version designed to spare Dante embarrassment.

Before the interview, my sister's attorney sent an offer. Victoria would sign the burial authorization and agree not to contact Leo if I withdrew my request for foundation records and signed a statement saying I had no reason to question the earlier transactions.

Sarah read the proposal aloud with the flat patience of someone accustomed to hearing unreasonable demands.

“No,” I said.

She looked up. “Shall I decline in writing?”

“Yes. And send it to the investigators.”

I had spent eight years negotiating with Dante over a future he would not name. I was finished negotiating over facts that already existed.

The interview took place in a federal office building that smelled of coffee and damp wool. An investigator named Sofia Reyes introduced herself and explained what she could and could not promise about the inquiry. She wanted the original documents preserved. She asked whether I would be willing to authenticate the signature on my donation approval, describe where and when I signed it, and identify which later version I had never seen.

I answered carefully. When I did not remember an exact time, I said so. When I knew a date because of a hospital appointment record, I explained how it could be independently checked. No one asked me to dramatize anything.

Dante was interviewed separately. I saw him once through a glass partition as an attorney led him down a corridor. He stopped at the sight of me. I didn't go to him. A moment later he continued walking.

Sofia had been notified about the investigator who sought Leo's photograph. She said an inquiry into that contact would be handled separately. She offered no comforting guarantees, only a number to call if anyone approached us again.

Afterward, Sarah and I met in a small conference room with Dante's attorney. The two lawyers had arranged it because Dante wanted to hand over the private agreement directly and acknowledge its origin. I agreed on the condition that Victoria would not attend and that no one discussed Leo.

Dante entered carrying a thin folder. He looked at me as though searching for signs that I had already decided what his punishment should be.

“I've made a sworn statement,” he said. “I explained what Victoria showed me before the wedding and why I agreed to the marriage.”

“Did you tell them you could have warned me?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell them what your company gained by ignoring the transfers?”

“Yes.”

He placed the folder in front of the lawyers. It contained the settlement agreement, related correspondence, and the internal approvals that had allowed Victoria and Dominic to move money after the wedding.

“You may lose control of part of your business,” I said.

“I know.”

“Some people working for you may tell investigators things you don't want known.”

“I know that too.”

I believed him. It was not the same as believing everything would be all right.

Dante sat down, but I remained standing.

“I told Leo who you are,” I said quietly.

He looked up so quickly the chair moved beneath him.

“He asked about you,” I continued. “I told him you're his father. That's all. He doesn't know our history, and he shouldn't have to carry it.”

Dante pressed his lips together. “Thank you for telling me.”

“He may want to meet you. We'll arrange it with someone who understands children, and only when we're both satisfied he's safe. If you want a place in his life, you'll have to build one without making him responsible for what happened between us.”

“I will.”

He watched me for another moment.

“I wish I had been there when he was born.”

“So do I,” I said. “But wishing doesn't give either of us those years back.”

I left the building with a sadness that no longer felt like surrender. It was simply the shape of what had been lost.

That evening, the airline sent a weather advisory. Our flight would be delayed overnight. Mia ordered dinner and helped Leo arrange his crayons on the hotel desk. I was almost asleep when Sarah phoned again.

The investigators had obtained records from one of the holding companies. Its beneficial ownership documents named Victoria and Dominic's business associate, with transfers scheduled in a pattern beginning just after the wedding. A related account had received additional funds from other Moretti entities.

More serious still, Sarah said, a search of the company's correspondence had yielded a draft message created before the ceremony. In it Victoria described the disputed authorization as leverage that would secure her access to Moretti operations. The document needed independent authentication, but it fit the financial sequence we already knew.

I set down the phone and looked at the little blue airplane on Leo's pillow.

May you like

[COMPLETED] “GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY DRESS! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT AN OLD SEAM...

[COMPLETED] At the Mafia Boss's Engagement Party, I Served His Hungry So...

[COMPLETED] The Mafia Boss’s Fiancée Tried to Dismiss His Father’s Loyal...

For years I had believed that my sister had stolen my future because she wanted my husband. The evidence suggested she had wanted the doors his name could open, and that destroying my faith in him was merely part of the price.

The next morning, we would learn whether the people who had helped her were finally prepared to tell the truth.