Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN IN THE RED DRESS|
The Moretti Foundation gala began at seven the following evening.
By six-thirty, the waterfront ballroom glittered beneath hundreds of crystal lights.
White roses decorated the tables.
A string quartet played beside the marble staircase.
Politicians, business executives, medical researchers, and wealthy donors moved through the room carrying champagne glasses.
Every person seemed to be smiling.
And almost nobody knew that federal investigators were quietly watching the event.
I stood before a mirror in Evelyn's guest bedroom, adjusting the straps of a midnight-blue gown.
It was the first formal dress I had worn in years.
I had borrowed it from Evelyn after discovering that my entire wardrobe consisted of uniforms, jeans, and comfortable sweaters.
The gown was simple.
It had a modest neckline, delicate sleeves, and a soft skirt that reached the floor.
I looked nothing like the woman who usually reminded Dante to drink water.
When someone knocked, I assumed it was Evelyn.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Dante stopped in the doorway.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
I turned.
"What?"
His gray eyes moved over my face.
Then he smiled slowly.
"I've spent six weeks watching you walk through my house in scrubs."
I blushed.
"That's generally how nursing works."
"And somehow you managed to become even more distracting."
I laughed nervously.
"Dante."
"You look beautiful."
The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten.
"Thank you."
He wore his charcoal tuxedo.
His dark hair was combed back.
His tattooed hands rested on his wheelchair, and his expression carried the quiet confidence I had watched him rebuild.
For the first time since meeting him, I wasn't seeing the exhausted man who had withdrawn from the world.
I was seeing the man he wanted the world to know.
"You look handsome," I said.
He smiled.
"I dressed myself."
"I noticed."
"Collar's crooked, though."
I approached him.
"May I?"
"Please."
I straightened the fabric.
His hand brushed mine.
"Anna."
"Yes?"
"Are you frightened?"
I considered lying.
Then I nodded.
"Terrified."
"Good."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Good?"
"It means I'm not the only one."
He reached for my hand.
"We're walking into a room full of people who think they know us."
I swallowed.
"Most of them don't."
"Then perhaps it's time they learned."
At seven-fifteen, we arrived at the gala.
The SUV stopped beside the accessible entrance.
Photographers were waiting.
Marcus opened the door and positioned himself nearby while Dante used the vehicle's ramp.
I stepped onto the pavement beside him.
Someone shouted his name.
"Mr. Moretti!"
Another voice called out.
"Is it true you've been removed from your foundation?"
"Are you suing your nurse?"
"Is your brother taking over?"
Dante didn't answer.
He moved toward the entrance at his own pace.
I walked beside him.
Not behind.
Not in front.
Beside.
Inside, the ballroom seemed to freeze.
I felt hundreds of eyes turning toward us.
Conversation faltered.
A champagne glass stopped halfway to someone's mouth.
And near the center of the room, a woman in a red satin gown went perfectly still.
Victoria Bellini.
Her expression transformed so quickly that I almost admired the performance.
Shock.
Concern.
Relief.
Then a smile.
"Dante!"
She approached with her arms extended.
"What a wonderful surprise."
Dante stopped.
"Victoria."
She bent toward him.
He offered his hand instead.
She hesitated before accepting it.
"I'm so glad you're feeling strong enough to join us."
His expression remained neutral.
"I wasn't aware attendance required your approval."
Several nearby guests looked away.
Victoria laughed delicately.
"Of course not."
Then she noticed me.
Her smile sharpened.
"Anna, I didn't realize staff members were attending as guests."
Heat rose in my face.
Before I could answer, Dante spoke.
"She's here at my invitation."
Victoria looked at him.
"How unconventional."
"Not particularly."
She lowered her voice.
"Dante, think about the optics."
He raised an eyebrow.
"The optics?"
"The headlines."
"I've read them."
"And you're still bringing her here?"
"Yes."
Victoria's gaze flickered toward the photographers.
"People will misunderstand."
Dante's response was immediate.
"They've been misunderstanding me for six years."
I felt a small, fierce surge of pride.
Victoria looked as though she had swallowed something unpleasant.
Then Lorenzo appeared.
He wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo and a warm smile that belonged on a campaign poster.
"Brother."
His arms opened.
Dante didn't move.
Lorenzo stopped.
"I didn't know you were coming."
"I told you yesterday."
"I assumed you'd reconsider."
"You assumed incorrectly."
Lorenzo glanced at me.
"Miss Foster."
"Mr. Moretti."
"I understand there are serious questions about your professional conduct."
I met his gaze.
"There are serious questions about several people's conduct."
His smile faltered.
"Indeed."
Dante leaned forward slightly.
"Where are the trustees?"
"In the private reception room."
"Good."
Lorenzo looked uneasy.
"Why?"
"I'd like to speak with them."
"Tonight isn't the time."
Dante looked around at the crowded ballroom.
"Interesting."
"What is?"
"This entire event is supposed to be about the foundation I established."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"And?"
"And apparently everyone is allowed to represent it except me."
A photographer captured the moment.
I saw the flash.
Lorenzo noticed it too.
He immediately stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"Don't embarrass yourself."
Dante smiled.
"Then stop giving me opportunities."
Lorenzo stared at him.
For a moment, the pleasant older brother vanished.
I saw something cold beneath his eyes.
Something that matched the voice on the recording.
Then he turned away.
"Enjoy your evening."
Victoria followed him.
But not before looking back at me.
Her gaze promised trouble.
Twenty minutes later, a waiter approached with a silver tray.
"Miss Foster?"
I turned.
"Yes?"
"Someone asked me to give you this."
He handed me a folded note.
I opened it.
"YOUR BROTHER IS IN THE SERVICE CORRIDOR. COME ALONE."
My pulse raced.
Noah was supposed to be at a secure location with Agent Pierce.
I looked around.
Dante was speaking with Evelyn and two medical researchers.
I considered telling him immediately.
Then I noticed a familiar figure near the ballroom doors.
A woman in a black evening dress.
She held a clutch purse.
Her blond hair was pulled into an elegant knot.
I recognized her from the photographs Noah had shown us.
Sophie Grant.
The former HarborPoint accountant who had allegedly helped falsify Noah's credentials.
She disappeared into the hallway.
I followed.
The service corridor was quieter than the ballroom.
Bright fluorescent lights replaced crystal chandeliers.
Staff moved between the kitchen and storage rooms.
At the far end, Sophie stood beside an emergency exit.
She looked frightened.
"Anna Foster?"
"Yes."
"Thank God."
I stopped several feet away.
"Where's my brother?"
"He's safe."
"Then why did your note say he was here?"
"Because I knew you wouldn't come otherwise."
Anger surged through me.
"That's a terrible way to begin a conversation."
"I know."
She glanced toward the doorway.
"I don't have much time."
"Then talk."
Sophie opened her purse.
Inside was a small envelope.
"The medical leak came from an archive administrator's account."
I stared at her.
"Whose?"
"Mine."
My body went cold.
Sophie swallowed.
"I didn't send it."
"Then who did?"
"I was ordered to restore an old user profile and generate an export report."
"By whom?"
She looked toward the ballroom.
"Victoria."
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Do you have proof?"
"Emails."
"Why didn't you give them to the authorities?"
"Because Lorenzo threatened my family."
Her voice cracked.
"He knows where my mother lives."
I glanced toward the exit.
"Agent Pierce can protect you."
Sophie shook her head.
"I tried contacting her."
"What happened?"
"Someone intercepted the message."
She pressed the envelope into my hand.
"There's more."
"What?"
"The gala auction."
I frowned.
"What about it?"
"The foundation is transferring a large portion of its restricted medical endowment through a new investment vehicle tonight."
"That's impossible."
"Not if the trustees approve it under the emergency governance agreement."
My stomach dropped.
The agreement Victoria had brought to Dante's bedroom.
The document he had refused to sign.
"They don't have his authorization."
Sophie looked at me.
"They don't need it if the board votes to appoint a temporary representative under the foundation's bylaws."
I stared.
"Who wrote the bylaws?"
"An attorney Lorenzo hired last year."
Suddenly, everything made sense.
The leaked medical records.
The accusations about my relationship with Dante.
The effort to portray him as incapable.
The pressure to keep him away from the gala.
They weren't separate attacks.
They were parts of one plan.
Sophie reached for my arm.
"Anna, listen carefully."
I looked at her.
"During the auction, Lorenzo is going to announce a special resolution."
"What resolution?"
"One that effectively strips Dante of control."
A door opened behind us.
Sophie flinched.
A tall man in a black suit entered the corridor.
He looked directly at her.
"Miss Grant."
Her face drained of color.
I recognized him.
Daniel Cross.
Lorenzo's private security director.
He smiled.
"Mr. Moretti has been looking for you."
Sophie stepped backward.
"I was just leaving."
Cross glanced at the envelope in my hand.
His smile disappeared.
"That doesn't belong to you."
I tightened my grip.
"Funny."
"What?"
"I was about to say the same thing about the foundation's money."
His eyes hardened.
"Give me the envelope."
"No."
He took a step forward.
I stepped back.
Then a familiar voice came from behind him.
"Daniel."
Cross froze.
Dante was at the entrance to the corridor.
Marcus stood beside him.
Dante looked from Cross to Sophie, then to me.
His expression became dangerously calm.
"Is there a reason you're threatening my guest?"
Cross straightened.
"Mr. Moretti, this is a private staff matter."
Dante rolled closer.
"Then explain why my nurse looks frightened."
"I'm no longer exclusively his nurse," I said before thinking.
Everyone looked at me.
Even Dante seemed momentarily surprised.
I cleared my throat.
"Professionally, we're arranging a transition."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
Then it vanished.
He looked back at Cross.
"Answer my question."
Cross said nothing.
Dante turned toward Marcus.
"Escort Miss Grant somewhere safe."
Marcus nodded.
"With pleasure."
Cross moved toward the door.
Dante stopped him.
"One more thing."
Cross looked back.
"Yes, sir?"
"If you approach Anna again without her permission, you'll be answering questions from federal investigators."
Cross's face changed.
He understood that Dante knew something.
But he didn't know how much.
When he finally left, I handed Dante the envelope.
He read the first page.
Then looked at me.
"Are you all right?"
I nodded.
"More angry than frightened."
"Good."
I stared at him.
"Why does everyone keep saying that?"
He smiled faintly.
"Because anger is useful when it reminds you what matters."
He took my hand.
"Are you ready?"
"For what?"
"The auction."
My pulse quickened.
"What are you planning?"
He looked toward the ballroom.
Music swelled beyond the double doors.
Hundreds of wealthy guests waited for the evening's main presentation.
And at the center of it all, Lorenzo was preparing to announce his victory.
May you like
Dante's expression turned cold.
"I'm going to remind my brother whose name is on the foundation."
