Chapter 8 - CLEANING HOUSEBy midnight, the estate was quiet again. Luca was fast asleep in the newly secured nursery, monitored by a high-grade military security system that only Isabella and I possessed the encryption keys to access. Isabella was resting comfortably upstairs, finally sleeping with a peace of mind she hadn't known in months.
I sat in my library, sipping a glass of aged scotch, as Marcus walked in carrying a laptop.
"She’s currently locked in a high-security holding cell down at the central precinct, boss," Marcus reported, opening the laptop screen and turning it toward me. "Bail was set at five million dollars by the judge, given the severity of the attempted murder charges."
"She can't pay it," I noted smoothly.
"Not even close," Marcus chuckled grimly. "Her bank accounts were frozen thirty minutes ago by state prosecutors following the financial fraud investigation. Furthermore, news of her arrest has exploded across every major news network and social media platform. Her sponsors have dropped her, her foundation has disowned her, and her social standing is completely incinerated."
"And her legal defense?"
"Her court-appointed attorney took one look at the hidden camera footage and advised her to seek a plea bargain," Marcus said. "If she goes to trial, she’s looking at twenty-five to thirty years in state prison without the possibility of parole. Given her age, it’s effectively a life sentence."
I nodded slowly, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. "Good. But I want to make sure she never sets foot in a comfortable facility. Reach out to our legal contacts in the prosecutor's office. Ensure that every single financial irregularity from her late husband’s estate is added to the indictment. I want her stripped of every asset, every vanity, and every comfort she ever possessed."
"Consider it handled, Mr. Moretti," Marcus replied. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "There’s one more thing, boss."
"Speak."
"We checked the origin of the radio frequency jammer she used on the baby monitor. She didn't buy it online. It was sourced through a low-level black-market contact operating in our territory—a man named Viktor who works for the Russian syndicate."
My eyes narrowed slightly. "Did Viktor know who she was using it against?"
"No, sir," Marcus answered quickly. "Evelyn paid him cash through an anonymous middleman. Viktor had no idea the jammer was being brought into your estate. The moment he found out it was connected to you, he turned over every text message and bank transfer record voluntarily. He was terrified you’d think he was moving against you."
A faint smile touched my face. Fear was a useful tool in my world. It kept the balance, kept rivals in line, and kept my family safe.
"Tell Viktor he is forgiven for his ignorance," I commanded. "On one condition: he testifies as an expert witness regarding the acquisition of the military-grade jammer during Evelyn’s trial. That will seal the premeditation charge beyond any shadow of a doubt."
"I'll make sure he understands the offer," Marcus said with a sharp nod. "Anything else, boss?"
"Send a fresh arrangement of white roses to Isabella’s room tomorrow morning," I said, standing up and setting my glass down on the desk. "And schedule a private jet to our estate in the South of France for next weekend. My wife and son need a vacation."
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"Right away, sir. Goodnight, Mr. Moretti."
I walked out of the library and made my way up the grand staircase. The dark shadows that had hung over our home for weeks were finally gone, replaced by the quiet warmth of a family restored.
