Chapter 4 - The Video That Should Not Exist
The footage lasted twenty-eight seconds.
Daniel watched it once.
Then again.
Rachel stood beside him.
Neither spoke.
The woman in the video looked exactly like Rachel.
Same height.
Same hair.
Same rounded figure.
Same gray wool coat she owned.
The timestamp showed 11:14 p.m. on February 8.
The fake Rachel entered Warehouse Nine using a keycard.
Six hours later, counterfeit medical equipment vanished from inventory.
Daniel stopped the recording.
“That isn't you.”
Rachel looked at him.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“You walk differently.”
She blinked.
“What?”
Daniel replayed the footage.
“You favor your right knee when you're tired.”
Rachel stared.
“I do?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I watch you.”
That answer, coming from Daniel Moretti, could have sounded threatening.
Instead it made her strangely emotional.
He pointed at the screen.
“She doesn't.”
Rachel watched.
He was right.
“And the coat,” Daniel continued.
“What about it?”
“You fasten the second button first.”
Rachel slowly turned.
“That is an absurd thing to know.”
“I notice details.”
A tiny smile reached her face.
Then disappeared.
“Would anyone else?”
“No.”
“And if police see this?”
“They'll believe it unless we prove otherwise.”
Rachel sat.
“This is what they wanted.”
“Yes.”
“Make me afraid of you. Make you suspicious of me.”
“And if that failed…”
“They frame me.”
Daniel looked at the paused image.
His aunt’s name now sat at the center of too many roads.
But Rachel still insisted on proof.
So Daniel arranged dinner.
Sophia Moretti arrived at the penthouse wearing pearls and a cream coat.
Seventy-one.
Elegant.
Controlled.
The type of woman who could insult someone while making it sound like etiquette.
She kissed Daniel’s cheek.
Then looked at Rachel.
“My dear.”
Rachel almost admired the performance.
Sophia's eyes briefly dropped toward Rachel’s loose blouse.
If she knew about the bruises, she hid it.
Dinner began normally.
Weather.
Foundation donations.
Emma’s recovery.
Then Daniel placed the photograph from Celeste’s apartment on the table.
Sophia looked at it.
Her expression barely moved.
“What is this?”
“You tell me.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
Daniel watched.
Rachel did too.
Sophia lifted the photograph.
“Who would do something this vulgar?”
Daniel said, “Someone who wanted Rachel hurt.”
Sophia sighed.
“Daniel, I warned you marrying someone from outside our world would create problems.”
Rachel felt Daniel stiffen.
She touched his knee under the table.
Wait.
Daniel remained quiet.
Sophia continued.
“Rachel is a nice girl.”
Rachel almost laughed.
“But nice girls are not prepared for this family.”
Rachel finally spoke.
“What exactly should I be prepared for?”
Sophia looked at her.
“Scrutiny.”
“Being bruised?”
Sophia’s eyes flickered.
There.
Tiny.
But real.
Rachel caught it.
Daniel did too.
Sophia put down her glass.
“What happened?”
Rachel lifted her blouse slightly.
Only enough to reveal part of the bruise.
Sophia inhaled.
“My God.”
Daniel watched carefully.
The shock looked genuine.
Or professionally performed.
“Celeste did this?”
Rachel asked,
“How did you know Celeste?”
Silence.
Sophia realized her mistake.
Daniel leaned forward.
“We never said who.”
Sophia recovered.
“You mentioned a gala stylist.”
“No,” Daniel said.
“I didn't.”
Sophia’s face became colder.
Rachel asked,
“Did you send her?”
“I recommended her.”
“Did you tell her Daniel wanted me thinner?”
“No.”
“Did you hire Dennis Cole?”
Sophia's eyes hardened.
“What does Dennis have to do with anything?”
Again.
Too much knowledge.
Daniel stood.
Sophia looked at him.
“Sit down.”
It was the kind of command only family dared give him.
Daniel remained standing.
“Dennis is dead.”
Sophia went pale.
For the first time, not acting.
“What?”
“Murdered.”
“No.”
“He worked for your company.”
Sophia looked genuinely shaken.
“I hired him because he understood hospital procurement.”
“He was moving counterfeit equipment.”
Sophia stared.
“I did not know that.”
Daniel watched her.
Rachel believed that part.
Sophia might be guilty of cruelty.
Maybe manipulation.
But the murder surprised her.
Then Sophia whispered,
“Oh, God.”
Daniel leaned closer.
“What?”
She looked toward Rachel.
“The board.”
“What board?”
“Not Moretti Freight.”
Sophia pressed a hand against her mouth.
“The foundation advisory board.”
Daniel lost patience.
“Speak clearly.”
Sophia looked at him.
“Three months ago, several members approached me.”
“Names.”
“They said your marriage threatened stability.”
“Names.”
“Daniel—”
“Names.”
Sophia finally answered.
“Victor Hale. Raymond Kessler. Paul DeSanto.”
Daniel knew all three.
Executives.
Old Moretti allies.
Men who had served Daniel’s father.
Rachel asked,
“What did they want?”
Sophia looked ashamed.
“They wanted you gone before the voting provision activated.”
Daniel's expression darkened.
“And you agreed.”
“I agreed to pressure you.”
Rachel stared.
Sophia continued.
“I authorized the stylist to make you uncomfortable.”
Daniel's chair scraped backward.
Rachel grabbed his wrist.
“Daniel.”
He stopped.
Sophia looked terrified.
“I did not authorize injuries.”
“You wanted her humiliated,” Daniel said.
“I wanted her to understand this life was not suitable.”
“You told Celeste I wanted Rachel thinner?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Sophia’s voice broke.
“I authorized social pressure. Invitations withheld. Difficult fittings. Press scrutiny.”
Rachel felt sick.
Sophia continued.
“But bruises? Fake videos? Dennis being killed? No.”
Daniel stared at her.
Rachel asked,
“What changed?”
Sophia swallowed.
“Two weeks ago Victor called me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said I had done enough.”
Daniel frowned.
“Meaning?”
“That they no longer needed me.”
Rachel and Daniel exchanged a look.
Sophia whispered,
“I thought they found another legal method to block the trust.”
“Instead?”
Sophia looked toward Rachel's bruises.
“They were escalating.”
Daniel asked,
“Where is Victor Hale?”
Sophia hesitated.
Daniel repeated,
“Where?”
“At the Moretti Foundation retreat house in Gloucester.”
Marco moved immediately.
Sophia suddenly stood.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Daniel, if Victor is involved, you cannot simply walk into that house.”
“Why?”
Her face became gray.
“Because your father built it.”
Daniel stared.
His father, Lorenzo Moretti, had died nine years earlier.
At least Daniel had believed so.
Sophia whispered,
“There is a room beneath the house.”
Daniel's expression sharpened.
“What room?”
“A private archive.”
“Of what?”
Sophia looked at her nephew.
“Every favor. Every payment. Every crime committed for the Moretti family over thirty years.”
Daniel went silent.
Sophia continued.
“If Victor has that archive, this isn't about your marriage anymore.”
Rachel whispered,
“What is it about?”
May you like
Sophia looked at Daniel.
“Replacing him.”
