Chapter 85 Transactions
Enzo
And I sat alone in my office, staring at the map on my desk.
Somewhere out there, maybe, was a sister I'd never met. A girl who'd been abandoned because she was blind. Because our father had deemed her weak. Worthless. A liability.
A girl who—if she'd survived—would be eighteen now, and living somewhere.
Not knowing she had a brother who was looking for her.
Not knowing she had a family, a complicated and criminal and dangerous family, yes—but a family nonetheless.
I'd find her. Somehow. Even if it took months. Years. Or everything I had.
She deserved that much.
She deserved to know she hadn't been forgotten.
Even if our father wanted her to stay buried.
MARCUS
I left the Morano estate and sat in my car for several minutes.
Eighteen-year-old blind girl. Abandoned as a baby. Possibly in the New York area, or possibly dead. Possibly living under an assumed name with no official records.
This was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. While blindfolded. While the haystack was on fire.
But Enzo Morano was paying me very well. And he'd made it clear this was personal, and Important. And he was willing to spend so much, so it's worth any cost.
Now, I'd search. I'd follow every lead. I'd dig through every record I could find.
And maybe—just maybe—I’d get lucky.
I pulled out my laptop. Started making a list.
Orphanages. Group homes. Foster care agencies. Schools for the blind. Social services departments.
Places a blind girl might have ended up if someone had taken her in unofficially.
I'd start in New York. Then expand outward. New Jersey. Connecticut, Pennsylvania, if necessary.
Somewhere in those records, maybe, was a girl who fit the description.
Blind. Eighteen. Unclear background. No official birth records.
Somewhere out there, maybe, was the Morano heir who'd been thrown away.
And I was going to find her.
AMELIA
I spent the rest of the day doing my tasks. Making Jeremy's bed. Organising his closet. Sorting laundry. Preparing for dinner.
Normal things. Employee things. Things that kept my mind busy and my hands occupied.
But underneath—I was thinking about Tuesday.
About meeting Alex one last time. About getting the gun. About having that final piece of independence.
About finally being able to protect myself. Defend myself.
No more depending on Jeremy for safety. No more being the helpless blind girl who needed saving.
I'd be capable. Powerful and in control of my safety.
Just four more days.
Four more days and I'd have everything I needed.
Four more days and I could stop lying. Stop hiding. Stop feeling guilty.
Four more days.
Tuesday Morning- JEREMY
I was reviewing contracts when Luca knocked on my office door.
"Come in."
He entered, looking unusually uncertain. "Boss, you got a minute?"
"What is it?" I asked not looking up from my laptop.
"The party tonight. At Crimson. Marco's hosting—a big VIP event for clients, partners, and allies." He paused. "You planning to go?"
"No."
"Why not? It's a good opportunity. Networking. Showing face, and maintaining relationships."
"I said no, Luca. "I didn't look up from the contract. "I'm not interested."
"But boss—Enzo Morano will be there. The Morano heir. It would be good for the alliance. You two could catch up. Strengthen the partnership. Your father would want —"
"I don't care what my father would want." I set down my pen. Looked at him directly. "I'm not going to Crimson tonight. I'm staying here. Finishing work. Then going home to Amelia. That's final."
Luca shifted uncomfortably. "Boss, I just think—"
"You are dismissed, Luca."
"Yes, sir."
He left.
I returned to my contracts. But I couldn't focus.
Crimson. The party. Enzo Morano would be there.
Under normal circumstances, I'd go. Network. Maintain the alliance. Do my job as the Santoro heir.
But these weren't normal circumstances.
Because every time I went to Crimson lately, I thought about Amelia. About the night I'd taken her there. About how she'd sat in that room, miserable, while I drank.
About how she'd looked at home in my bed that night. How she'd said she loved me.
About how she'd lied about where she'd been. About who she'd been with.
Vincent was still following her. Still reporting back. For three days now, nothing suspicious. Just normal routines. Bank. Coffee shop with Elena—confirmed this time, Vincent had watched them together. Back to the estate.
It's just the normal routine.
Maybe I'd been paranoid. Maybe that one lie had been an isolated incident.
Vincent will watch her for a few more days and I will call it off.
AMELIA
My phone buzzed with a text message.
I activated the voice function.
"Message from Alex: Gun secured. Meeting still on? Coffee shop, 7pm?"
My heart jumped. Tonight. The gun was ready tonight.
I typed back quickly: "Yes. I'll be there in a few minutes."
I checked the time. 6:47pm. Jeremy was still at the office. He'd texted earlier saying he'd be late—finishing contracts, he wouldn't be home until after eight.
Perfect timing. I could meet Alex, get the gun, and get back before Jeremy arrived.
I grabbed my purse and checked that I had enough cash. Twelve hundred dollars, counted out this morning. Ready.
I put on my jacket and grabbed my cane.
I navigated to the east wing entrance.
"Luca?" I called out.
No answer. He must be doing perimeter checks. Or maybe he'd left for that party at Crimson he'd mentioned earlier.
Even better.
I slipped out the door. Made my way down the path I'd memorized. To the estate gates.
The guard recognised my footsteps. "Miss Amelia? You going out?"
"Just for a quick errand. I'll be back within the hour."
"Want me to call you a car?"
"No, thank you. I'll walk. It's not far."
That was a lie. The coffee shop was a twenty-minute walk. But I didn't want a driver reporting back to Jeremy about where I'd gone.
I made my way through the gates and onto the sidewalk. Heading toward Fifth and Madison.
Toward Alex. Toward the gun. Toward my independence.
Just fifteen minutes. Get the gun, pay him. Leave, and be home before Jeremy.
No one would ever know.