Chapter 6 - The Ledger of Lies
The sharp clatter of Luciano’s pen hitting the hardwood floor echoed in the silent staff dining hall like a falling brick. For a fraction of a second, every pair of eyes in the room darted downward before snapping back up.
Luciano scrambled to pick it up, his face flushing a mottled red. “My apologies, Mr. Moretti, Mrs. Bennett. I’m... a bit clumsy this morning. Too much espresso.”
“Indeed,” I replied smoothly, stepping closer to the long oak table where the morning reports were laid out. I didn't break eye contact with him. “Accidents happen when people are nervous, Luciano. Let’s hope your math is more stable than your hands.”
Mrs. Gable, the veteran head of linens, let out a dry, disapproving cough. “If I may, Mr. Moretti—with all due respect to your new appointment—some of us have managed this estate for decades without needing a... a temporary nanny thrust into an executive seat.”
Alessandro didn't raise his voice, but the sudden drop in temperature in the room was palpable. “Mrs. Gable, Mrs. Bennett’s credentials were proven last night when she and her daughter intercepted a federal intelligence leak that Marco Vance was using to dismantle our shipping lanes. If you find her presence inconvenient, you are free to pack your bags and leave by noon.”
The silver-haired woman went stiff, her lips pressing into a thin, white line. She dipped her head stiffly. “Understood, Signor Moretti.”
“Good,” Alessandro turned to me, his expression softening just a fraction. “I have a meeting with the port authorities. You have the run of the estate. Use it.”
With a final, sharp nod, Alessandro turned and strode out of the room, followed silently by his chief security guard, Mateo.
As the heavy double doors clicked shut behind them, the atmosphere in the room shifted from cold compliance to thinly veiled hostility. The department heads dispersed quickly, murmuring amongst themselves, leaving only Luciano behind as he hurriedly gathered his leather binders.
“Allow me to help you with those, Luciano,” I said, stepping right up to his side before he could zip his briefcase.
“That’s quite all right, Mrs. Bennett—!” he stammered, pulling the leather flap down.
I placed my right hand flat on the briefcase lid. The silver Moretti signet ring caught the overhead light, pressing down with unmistakable weight. “I am the head of domestic operations now. Every financial log, supply receipt, and staff roster crosses my desk before it goes to the accountant. Open the case, Luciano.”
Sweat beaded visibly on his forehead. With trembling fingers, he unzipped the bag.
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I didn't look at the payroll sheets on top. Instead, I reached past them, lifting a false bottom at the base of the leather case. Beneath it lay a secondary, unmarked black notebook with encrypted digital ledger codes—the exact duplicate of the codes Marco Vance had used to signal federal transport schedules to the authorities.
“Looking for a new buyer now that Marco is gone?” I asked softly.
