Chapter 9 - The Fall of the Empire
The fallout was catastrophic.
By sunrise, the penthouse was crawling with federal agents, crime scene investigators, and district attorneys. Because of Michael’s pre-existing immunity agreement regarding the historic corruption cases, he was not arrested, but the public exposure was devastating.
Headlines across the country blared:
MAFIA HEIR IMPLICATED IN TRI-STATE CORRUPTION PROBE.
MORETTI SYNDICATE UNDER FEDERAL SCRUTINY.
THE DEAD COP’S DAUGHTER AT THE CENTER OF UNDERWORLD WAR.
Regina was remanded to Rikers Island without bail, facing charges of first-degree murder, conspiracy, and attempted extortion.
For two days, Michael locked himself in his study with a team of high-powered attorneys, navigating the political and legal minefield threatening to dismantle his entire legitimate and illegitimate empire.
I sat in the guest room with Zach, packing our bags.
Zach was quiet, sitting on the unmade bed, watching me fold his clothes. “Are we going on another runaway trip, Miss Aurora?”
I sat down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “No, buddy. You’re staying here with your dad.”
“What about you?” he asked, his big brown eyes welling with tears. “We’re married. You promised.”
My heart broke into a thousand pieces. I kissed the top of his head. “I promised to protect you from the bad guys, Zach. And the bad guys are gone now. But my staying here... it puts a target on your back. The whole world knows who I am now. If I stay, your dad will spend the rest of his life fighting wars to keep me safe.”
“He doesn't care,” a deep voice said from the doorway.
I looked up.
Michael stood there, looking exhausted. The shadows under his eyes were deep, his tie loosened, his shirt wrinkled from forty-eight hours of non-stop legal battles.
“Zach,” Michael said gently. “Lev is waiting downstairs to take you to the private garden. Go on.”
Zach hugged me tightly around my neck, whispering, “Don't go,” before sliding off the bed and running past his father into the hall.
Once the door clicked shut, Michael looked at the packed suitcases resting beside the dresser.
“You’re leaving,” he said. It wasn't a question; it was an ache.
“The federal prosecutors are watching every dollar in your accounts, Michael,” I said, my voice cracking despite my efforts to stay strong. “They’re trying to use me to prove you coerced Thomas Vance’s family. If I stay here, they will use me as leverage to put you behind bars. And the Rossi family will never stop hunting me to get to you.”
Michael walked into the room, stopping directly in front of me. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped my control.
“I don't give a damn about the prosecutors, Aurora,” he whispered fiercely. “I don't give a damn about the Rossi family. I have enough offshore funds to buy an island in the Mediterranean. We can leave tonight. You, me, and Zach.”
“And run for the rest of our lives?” I looked into his beautiful, haunted gray eyes. “You’re Michael Moretti. You don't run. And I won't let you turn Zach into a fugitive because you fell in love with a ghost from your past.”
Michael stared at me, his jaw tightening, the anguish in his eyes breaking my heart far worse than any bullet ever could.
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“I love you, Michael,” I whispered, leaning up and pressing a soft, trembling kiss to his lips. “That’s why I have to go.”
He didn't try to stop me. He simply closed his eyes, his hands falling to his sides as I picked up my single duffel bag and walked out of the penthouse.
