Chapter 7 - The Apology at the Door
The next morning, the rain had cleared, leaving the air outside the Moretti private estate crisp and cold.
The estate sat high on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic—a stone manor surrounded by high walls, iron gates, and ancient oak trees. It was quiet, peaceful, and entirely disconnected from the city below.
Claire was sitting on the sun porch drinking tea, wearing a soft gray sweater and leggings, her hair clean and fresh.
The front gates chimed.
Viktor stepped onto the porch, carrying a small leather clipboard.
"Mrs. Moretti," Viktor said respectfully, bowing his head slightly. "There are three people at the main gate requesting an audience with you."
Claire set her tea cup down. "Who is it?"
"Arthur Price, Richard Cole, and his daughter, Madison," Viktor replied. "They have been standing in the rain since five o'clock this morning."
Claire paused. She looked through the arched glass windows toward the long gravel driveway.
"Did Gabriel send for them?" she asked.
"No, ma'am," Viktor said. "Don Gabriel is currently in his study reviewing the asset liquidations for Price & Associates. They came on their own... out of desperation."
Claire stood up, pulling her cardigan tight around herself. "Let them in, Viktor."
Viktor hesitated. "Don Gabriel said—"
"I am asking you to let them in, Viktor," Claire said firmly, her voice carrying a quiet authority that surprised even herself.
Viktor looked at her for a long second, then nodded. "As you wish, Mrs. Moretti."
Ten minutes later, three dripping-wet people were led onto the sun porch by two armed security guards.
Arthur Price looked ten years older than his age. His tailored suit was soaked through, his tie crooked. Richard Cole stood beside him, clutching a leather folder to his chest like a shield.
Behind them stood Madison Cole.
She was no longer wearing her white designer dress. She wore a plain, oversized gray sweatshirt and jeans, her face completely pale, devoid of makeup. Her eyes were red and swollen from hours of crying.
When Madison saw Claire sitting comfortably in a plush linen chair, holding a tea cup, she flinched.
Arthur Price immediately dropped to one knee on the flagstone floor.
"Mrs. Moretti," Arthur choked out, his voice shaking with humiliation. "I am Arthur Price. I am here to beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my family. My son Evan is an arrogant, foolish boy. I have removed him from my firm. I have cut him off financially. He is currently waiting in a car at the end of the road, terrified to show his face."
Richard Cole stepped forward next, his hands trembling as he laid the leather folder on the tea table.
"Mrs. Moretti," Richard wept, tears streaming down his weathered cheeks. "This is the deed to my three luxury dealerships. I will surrender fifty-one percent controlling interest to you... to your personal name. Just please... ask your husband to restore our lines of credit. If he doesn't, my business will go bankrupt by Friday. Three hundred employees will lose their jobs."
Claire looked at the papers on the table. She looked at the two powerful men kneeling and trembling before her.
Then she looked at Madison.
"Madison," Claire said softly.
Madison took a shuddering step forward, her lower lip shaking so violently she could barely form words.
"I'm... I'm sorry..." Madison sobbed, dropping her head, her golden hair falling over her wet face. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Moretti. I was stupid. I thought it would be funny for my followers... I didn't think about... about how bad it would hurt you."
Claire stood up slowly. She walked over to the young woman until she stood just two feet away from her.
"You didn't care if it hurt me, Madison," Claire said, her voice clear, honest, and completely devoid of malice. "You cared that I was heavy, that I was wearing a uniform, and that you thought nobody was standing behind me to make you account for your cruelty."
Madison buried her face in her wet hands, her shoulders heaving with uncontrollable sobs. "I know... I'm sorry... please don't let him ruin my dad... it was my fault, not his..."
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Claire turned her gaze toward the door of the sun porch.
Gabriel was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest, watching everything in silence.
