The Moretti Widow
Chapter 07 - The Moretti Widow
Lucia Moretti entered Sal’s Diner as if it were a ballroom someone had neglected to clean.
Her white coat remained spotless despite the rain. Two men followed her in and stopped near the door. They carried themselves like weapons pretending to be furniture.
Dominic stood between Lucia and Sadi.
“Get out,” he said.
Lucia’s smile did not change. “You were more polite as a boy.”
“You were less obvious as a snake.”
“Age clarifies everyone.”
Sadi held the box against her side. Pain pulsed beneath her bandages. She was suddenly aware of how easily a determined person could undo the surgeon’s work.
Lucia’s eyes moved to her. “Mrs. Russo.”
The title in that woman’s mouth felt like perfume over rot.
Sadi lifted her chin. “Mrs. Moretti.”
A flicker of amusement. “So the waitress speaks.”
“The waitress also bleeds. We’re versatile.”
Dominic’s hand shifted slightly, not touching her but close.
Lucia looked at Rosa. “Still collecting strays, I see.”
Rosa’s face hardened. “Still mistaking cruelty for breeding, I see.”
For the first time, Lucia’s eyes cooled.
“I came to prevent unnecessary bloodshed.”
“You should have stayed home and prevented necessary stupidity,” Sal muttered.
Lucia ignored him.
She looked at Dominic. “Hand over Elaine Hayes’s materials. In exchange, I will publicly deny any Moretti involvement at the diner. We will call it a rogue contractor. Your mother lives. Your wife lives. Everyone keeps their grief manageable.”
Sadi laughed once.
It hurt.
“Manageable grief. That’s a phrase only rich murderers use.”
Lucia’s gaze returned to her. “You think because he put a ring on you, you understand the room.”
“I understand enough.”
“No. You understand fear in a diner. You understand rent. You understand cheap shoes. But you do not understand families like ours.”
“Thank God.”
Lucia smiled thinly. “Your mother did.”
Sadi’s fingers tightened on the box.
Dominic said, “Choose your next words carefully.”
Lucia took one step closer.
“Elaine Hayes was not only a victim. She was an accountant who carried books for men she later claimed to hate. She hid money. She moved money. She left evidence because she was frightened of being blamed.”
“That’s a lie,” Sadi said.
“Is it?”
Lucia lifted a hand. One of her men placed a folder on a table.
Dominic did not move.
Gabriel opened it first.
Inside were bank transfers, signatures, copies of old checks.
Sadi saw her mother’s name.
Elaine Hayes.
Her knees weakened.
Dominic reached for her this time, steadying her at the elbow.
“Paper can be forged,” he said.
Lucia’s eyes gleamed. “So can sainthood.”
Sadi stared at the signature. It looked like her mother’s hand. The slant was right. The careful E. The way she looped the y.
Rosa whispered, “Elaine would never—”
“You don’t know what desperate women do,” Lucia said. “You only know what you wish they had done.”
Sadi felt tears rise and hated them.
Lucia looked pleased.
“That box does not make you powerful, Mrs. Russo. It makes you dangerous to yourself. Give it to me, and I will arrange a life for you outside Chicago. Money. A house. A clinic for your injuries. You can annul this little performance and live.”
Dominic went very still.
The word annul sat between them.
Sadi looked at her husband on paper.
Lucia noticed.
“Ah,” she said softly. “He didn’t tell you he prepared annulment papers before the priest arrived?”
Sadi’s heart kicked once.
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“That was before she agreed.”
Lucia’s smile sharpened. “How considerate. A cage with a door drawn on it.”
Sadi turned to him.
“Is that true?”
He met her eyes.
“Yes.”
For a moment, the diner vanished. There was only that answer.
Honest.
Damaging.
Lucia extended her hand. “Give me the box.”
Sadi looked down at the oilcloth. At her mother’s letter. At the bracelet. At the cassette they had not played.
Then she stepped out from behind Dominic.
He said her name once, low.
She ignored him.
Lucia’s eyes brightened.
Sadi placed the folder of accusations on top of the nearest table and slid it toward Sal.
“Hold that.”
Sal blinked. “Me?”
“Unless the freezer wants it.”
Then Sadi looked at Lucia.
“My mother may have done things I don’t understand. But you just offered me money to stop asking why.”
Lucia’s face changed by one small degree.
“That tells me I’m asking the right questions.”
Outside, sirens wailed faintly.
Lucia glanced toward the door.
Dominic smiled without warmth. “You thought I came here without notifying my friends?”
Lucia’s composure cracked.
Not much.
Enough.
She turned to leave, then paused near Sadi.
“Play the cassette,” she murmured. “Ask your husband what his father did after your mother begged for help.”
Lucia walked back into the rain.
No one followed.
Sadi turned slowly toward Dominic, the unopened cassette heavy in her palm.
“Take me home,” she said.
Dominic’s eyes flickered.
May you like
“To the estate?”
“No,” Sadi said. “To wherever you keep the truth.”
