Chapter 10 - THE CONFESSION BESIDE THE HOSPITAL BED|
Thomas Reed was admitted to a private hospital shortly after midnight.
According to Marcus, a driver found him collapsed beside his vehicle near the outskirts of Seattle.
He had suffered a medical emergency.
The physicians stabilized him, but his condition remained serious.
And before he lost consciousness, he had repeatedly asked for Dante Moretti.
When Marcus called, Dante listened without interrupting.
Then he asked one question.
"Is he able to speak?"
"Briefly."
"Does he have an attorney?"
"One has been contacted."
"Is Agent Pierce aware?"
"Yes."
Dante glanced toward me.
I could see the conflict in his eyes.
Part of him wanted to rush to the hospital.
Another part feared what Thomas might say.
And beneath both feelings lay the terrible knowledge that the man who had helped raise him might have participated in destroying his life.
"Do you want to see him?" I asked.
Dante looked down.
"I don't know."
It was the most honest answer he could have given.
I sat beside him.
"You don't have to decide immediately."
"He might die."
"Yes."
"And if he does, I may never know why."
I nodded.
Dante stared at his hands.
"When I was nine, my mother died."
I listened.
"My father stopped coming home early after that."
He swallowed.
"Thomas was the one who taught me how to tie a necktie."
I felt my throat tighten.
"He was there when I graduated."
Dante looked toward the window.
"He was there when I took over the family business."
A bitter smile appeared.
"And he was there when I woke up in the hospital."
I moved closer.
"That doesn't make what he did acceptable."
"I know."
"But it explains why this hurts."
He nodded slowly.
Then he reached for his phone.
"Tell Marcus I'll come."
I touched his arm.
"Dante."
He looked up.
"Would you like me to accompany you?"
For several seconds, he simply studied my face.
Then he nodded.
"Yes."
We arrived at the hospital shortly after one.
Agent Pierce met us near a private entrance.
She explained that Thomas had requested legal counsel and that any formal statement would need to follow proper procedures.
Dante listened carefully.
He had no intention of turning the hospital room into an interrogation.
He simply wanted to face the man who had known him most of his life.
When we entered, Thomas lay against white pillows, his face gray and exhausted.
A monitor beeped steadily beside the bed.
He opened his eyes when he heard Dante's voice.
"Thomas."
The older man's lips trembled.
"Mr. Dante."
Nobody had called him that in years.
Dante moved closer.
"I hear you wanted to see me."
Thomas looked at me.
Then at Pierce.
"Can I speak with him privately?"
Pierce explained the conditions under which a conversation could occur.
Thomas's attorney had arrived and remained nearby.
Dante looked at me.
I understood.
"I'll be outside."
He caught my hand.
"Thank you."
I squeezed it.
Then I stepped into the corridor.
Through the glass panel, I could see Dante sitting beside Thomas's bed.
For a long time, neither man spoke.
Then Thomas began crying.
It was a terrible sight.
An older man who had spent decades moving through the Moretti household with perfect composure now covered his face with shaking hands.
Dante remained still.
He didn't reach out.
He didn't comfort him.
He simply waited.
After several minutes, Thomas spoke.
I couldn't hear the words.
But I saw Dante's expression change.
First confusion.
Then disbelief.
Then grief.
When I was finally invited back inside, Dante was staring at the floor.
Thomas looked toward me.
"Miss Foster."
I approached cautiously.
"Mr. Reed."
His eyes filled.
"I'm sorry."
I didn't answer.
He looked at Dante.
"I should have protected you."
Dante's voice was quiet.
"Yes."
Thomas swallowed.
"I thought I could keep things from going too far."
"What things?"
Thomas looked toward his attorney.
Then back at Dante.
"Lorenzo came to me before the mountain trip."
The room became still.
"He said you were going to destroy the family."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"Because I wanted to separate the legitimate businesses from the criminal operations?"
Thomas nodded.
I glanced at him.
I had known Dante was involved in organized crime.
He had never pretended otherwise.
But I hadn't understood how deeply the family business had divided him and Lorenzo.
Thomas continued.
"Lorenzo said you were planning to give investigators information about certain shipping contracts."
Dante stared.
"I was."
"And he said people would go to prison."
"People who committed crimes."
Thomas began crying again.
"He told me the family would be ruined."
Dante's voice hardened.
"So you helped him?"
Thomas shook his head.
"I agreed to move the car to a private garage."
Dante looked at him.
"Why?"
"He said he needed it inspected."
"Did you know what he was planning?"
Thomas closed his eyes.
"I suspected."
The word hung in the air.
Dante leaned forward.
"You suspected someone wanted to hurt me."
Thomas nodded.
"And you did nothing."
"I'm sorry."
Dante looked away.
For several seconds, I thought he might leave.
Then Thomas spoke again.
"There was another person."
Dante stopped.
"Who?"
"The woman Lorenzo was going to marry."
My stomach tightened.
"Victoria."
Thomas nodded.
"She wasn't engaged to Lorenzo then."
Dante stared.
"She was engaged to me."
"Yes."
I felt cold.
Thomas continued.
"She knew about the plan."
Dante's face turned pale.
"How?"
"She arranged the payment through one of her family's companies."
Dante closed his eyes.
Victoria had stayed beside him during his early recovery.
She had brought flowers.
Attended press conferences.
Given interviews about devotion and loyalty.
Then, when his rehabilitation took longer than she expected, she had ended their engagement.
At least, that was how the public story went.
Now it appeared her relationship with Lorenzo had begun far earlier.
Thomas swallowed.
"I heard them arguing once."
Dante looked at him.
"About what?"
"She said you were supposed to be gone."
The room fell silent.
Thomas began shaking.
"Lorenzo told her to keep her voice down."
I stared at Dante.
His hands were trembling.
For years, he had believed Victoria left because she couldn't accept the changes in his life.
The truth was so much uglier.
She hadn't been disappointed that he used a wheelchair.
She had been disappointed that he survived.
Dante finally spoke.
"Do you have evidence?"
Thomas nodded weakly.
"In my office."
Marcus stepped forward.
"At the estate?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
Thomas swallowed.
"Behind the old family portraits."
Dante frowned.
"What portraits?"
"The ones in the upstairs hallway."
He took a shaky breath.
"There's a concealed storage compartment."
Marcus looked toward Pierce.
She immediately began coordinating a lawful search.
Thomas turned toward Dante again.
"I kept copies."
"Why?"
"Because I was afraid."
Dante's expression hardened.
"Of Lorenzo?"
Thomas nodded.
"He made it clear that if I spoke, I would lose everything."
I watched Dante struggle with the answer.
Then he said something I hadn't expected.
"Fear explains your silence."
Thomas looked at him hopefully.
"But it doesn't excuse it."
The hope disappeared.
Dante continued.
"You watched my father raise me."
Thomas began crying.
"You watched me learn to walk."
His voice trembled.
"And when I lost that ability, you stood beside my bed and promised everything would be all right."
Thomas covered his face.
Dante's eyes filled.
"I believed you."
I stepped closer.
Not to interrupt.
Just to be there.
Dante looked at Thomas for a long moment.
Then he spoke.
"I don't know whether I'll ever forgive you."
Thomas nodded.
"I understand."
"But I want you to tell the truth."
"I will."
"Not for me."
Dante glanced toward Noah.
"For every person hurt by this."
Thomas looked toward the younger man.
His face crumpled.
"Your brother was right," he whispered to me.
I felt my pulse quicken.
"About what?"
"He found the money."
Noah stepped forward.
Thomas continued.
"He discovered that the foundation was being used to move funds through medical contractors."
"Why frame him?" I asked.
"Because he refused to change his findings."
Noah's hands trembled.
Thomas looked at him.
"I'm sorry."
Noah said nothing.
I knew why.
Sorry couldn't give him back two years of his life.
It couldn't restore his reputation.
It couldn't erase the nights I had spent wondering whether he was alive.
But it was the first time anyone connected to the scandal had admitted what happened.
And sometimes the first truth hurts more than the lies that came before it.
We left the hospital shortly before dawn.
Dante said almost nothing during the drive.
When we returned to the secure apartment, I made tea.
He sat near the window, watching the sky change from black to gray.
I placed the cup beside him.
"Would you like to talk?"
He shook his head.
I nodded and started to leave.
Then he caught my hand.
"Stay."
I sat.
For several minutes, we watched the sunrise.
Then Dante whispered, "I loved her once."
I knew he meant Victoria.
"I know."
"I thought she loved me."
My chest tightened.
"That was real for you."
He looked at me.
"Does that make me a fool?"
"No."
"Then what does it make me?"
"Someone who trusted the wrong person."
He gave a bitter laugh.
"Apparently I'm very good at that."
I shook my head.
"You're also learning when to trust the right ones."
His eyes moved toward mine.
"Like you?"
"That's your decision."
He stared at me.
Then he reached out.
His fingers brushed my cheek.
"Anna."
"Yes?"
"I don't want to spend the rest of my life afraid to love someone."
My heart began racing.
"You don't have to."
He leaned closer.
I met him halfway.
And when his lips touched mine, there was nothing dramatic about it.
No cameras.
No champagne.
No audience.
Just a quiet room, the first light of morning, and two people who had spent too long being punished for trusting others.
His hand rested against my face.
I kissed him again.
Then I leaned my forehead against his.
He smiled faintly.
"Was that inappropriate?"
I laughed softly.
"Professionally complicated."
"Personally?"
I looked into his eyes.
"Long overdue."
He laughed.
And for the first time since the medical leak, I felt the future opening instead of closing.
But the peace lasted less than five minutes.
My phone rang.
The caller was Agent Pierce.
I answered.
"Agent?"
Her voice was urgent.
"Anna, is Dante with you?"
"Yes."
"Put me on speaker."
I did.
Pierce took a breath.
"The search team recovered documents from Thomas's office."
Dante straightened.
"What did you find?"
"Records linking Lorenzo, Victoria, and several contractors to the financial transfers."
I felt hope rise.
"That's good."
"It is."
Then Pierce hesitated.
"There's something else."
Dante's expression tightened.
"What?"
"The documents include a second plan."
The room went still.
Pierce continued.
"One that appears to have been prepared after you survived the crash."
Dante stared at the phone.
"What kind of plan?"
May you like
Her answer made the sunlight suddenly feel cold.
"A plan to make sure you never regained control of your life."
