4. Maria
— · —
Maria
Luca Moretti’s office is nothing like I expected.
I don’t know what I pictured, something sleek and intimidating, maybe, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view that screams I’m going to destroy you in court. Instead, I’m standing in front of a converted storefront in a neighborhood where no Moretti would ever be caught dead.
The sign is faded. The paint is peeling. But there’s a newspaper clipping taped to the window: LOCAL ATTORNEY WINS RECORD SETTLEMENT FOR WRONGED SPOUSE.
I push open the door.
Inside, it’s chaos. Organized chaos, maybe, but chaos nonetheless. Files stacked on every surface. Law books crammed into shelves that look like they might collapse at any moment. A desk buried under papers, with a man behind it who looks up when I enter.
Luca.
He’s wearing a button-down with the sleeves rolled up, tattoos on full display.
In the fluorescent light of the office, he looks different than he did at the party.
Less like a ghost, more like a person. There are shadows under his eyes, and his jaw is dark with stubble, like he didn’t bother to shave this morning.
He looks like he just rolled out of bed.
And just like that, my brain provides an image I definitely didn’t ask for - Luca in bed, sheets tangled around his waist, those tattooed arms stretched above his head, that jaw rough with stubble scratching against my-
Stop. Stop it right now.
“You came.”
His voice snaps me back to reality. Thank God.
“You sound surprised.”
“Most people chicken out.” He gestures to a chair across from his desk - also buried in files, which he moves aside with a sweep of his arm. “The Moretti name scares them.”
“The Moretti name is the reason I’m here.” I sit down. Try to look more confident than I feel. Try not to notice the way his forearms flex as he moves the files. “You said you could help me destroy Tommy. I want to know how.”
Luca studies me for a moment. Those dark eyes miss nothing - I can feel them cataloging every detail, filing it away for future use.
And then they drop. Just for a second. To my stomach. Then back up.
So fast I almost miss it.
He knows.
The thought hits me like ice water. He knows I’m pregnant.
But that’s impossible. I haven’t told anyone. Haven’t even been to a doctor yet. There’s no way-
“Before we start,” he says, his voice carefully neutral, “I need you to understand something. If you work with me, there’s no going back. Victor will find out. Tommy will find out. They’ll come at you with everything they have.”
“They already took everything I had.”
“Not everything.” His eyes flick down again, definitely to my stomach this time, and then back up. A question. A knowing.
Shit.
“I’m ready,” I say, keeping my voice steady. Refusing to acknowledge what we both know he’s asking. “Tell me what we’re dealing with.”
***
Luca pulls out a laptop. Types something. Turns the screen toward me.
“The good news,” he says, “is that Tommy was sloppy. He used marital assets to fund his affair. Hotels. Dinners. Jewelry.”
A spreadsheet fills the screen. Dates. Amounts. Transaction descriptions.
“That Bulgari necklace your sister was wearing at the party?” Luca points to a line item. “Forty thousand euros. Purchased from your joint account three months ago.”
My stomach turns. “He bought her jewelry. With my money.”
“Your money. Which is why you’re entitled to half of everything - including his share of the family business.”
“Half of the Moretti empire?”
“On paper, at least. The bad news is that the Morettis have been hiding money for decades. Swiss accounts. Shell companies. Real estate under fake names.” Luca leans back in his chair. “I’ve been tracking it for five years. Ever since they threw me out.”
“Why? You said they took everything from you. Why keep digging?”
His jaw tightens. “Because someday, I knew someone would need the ammunition. And because-” He stops. Starts again. “Because I need to know the truth. Even if no one else believes it.”
There’s something raw in his voice. Something that sounds almost like loneliness.
I find myself softening toward him, just a little. This man who’s been fighting alone for five years, building a case against his own family, waiting for someone to listen.
What would it be like to be the person he finally lets in?
The thought catches me off guard. I shove it away.
“So what’s the plan?”
“We file first. Tomorrow. Aggressive. Catch them off guard before Victor can circle the wagons.” Luca pulls out a business card - different from his own. “But there’s a complication. I can’t be your attorney of record.”
“Why not?”
“Conflict of interest. Tommy’s brother representing Tommy’s wife in a divorce? Victor’s lawyers would eat us alive.” He slides the card across the desk. “Renata Volpe. Best family lawyer in the city. No connection to the Morettis. She’ll handle the court appearances, the official filings.”
“And you?”
“I’ll handle everything else. Strategy. Investigation. Finding the skeletons Victor thinks are buried too deep to find.” His mouth curves into something that’s not quite a smile. “Think of me as your silent partner in destruction.”
I look at the card. RENATA VOLPE & ASSOCIATES.
“What about money? I don’t have-”
“We’ll work something out. Contingency, probably - I take a percentage of whatever you win.” He shrugs. “And honestly? I’d do this for free just to watch Tommy lose.”
“That’s... concerning.”
“Maybe. But it’s honest.” He meets my eyes. “I’m not going to pretend I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I want to destroy my brother. I’ve wanted it for five years. You just happen to be the best weapon that’s come along.”
A weapon.
I should be offended. Should bristle at being called a tool for his revenge.
But the thing is - I understand it.
I want to destroy Tommy too. I want to watch him lose everything the way I’ve lost everything.
I want to see that smug confidence crumble, want to hear him explain to Victor why the empire is falling apart, want to make him feel even a fraction of what I felt standing in that hallway while Nonna blamed me for his betrayal.
If being Luca’s weapon gets me there, I can live with that.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m in.”
His shoulders drop, just slightly. Approval, maybe. Or relief.
“One more thing.” His voice goes serious. “Is there anything you’re not telling me? Anything they could use against you?”
My hand twitches toward my stomach. Stops.
Tell him. He already suspects. He needs to know.
But the words won’t come.
The pregnancy is the only secret I have left. The only power Tommy doesn’t know about. And until I figure out how to use it, or protect it, I’m not ready to share it with anyone.
Even someone with dark eyes and tattooed arms and a voice that makes me feel things I have no business feeling.
“No,” I say. “Nothing.”
Luca watches me for a long moment. I can see the doubt in his eyes - he knows I’m lying. But he doesn’t push.
“Okay,” he says finally. “Then let’s get to work.”
***
Three hours later, my head is spinning with legal terminology and financial records and the sheer scope of what we’re up against.
“The filings will go out tomorrow,” Luca says, closing his laptop. “Once they do, Tommy will know you’ve retained counsel. And he’ll know I’m involved.”
“Will that be a problem?”
“For him? Absolutely.” A dark smile crosses his face. “For us, it means Victor will escalate. Expect threats. Expect intimidation. Expect them to try every dirty trick in the book.”
“I’ve been dealing with Morettis for five years. I know how they operate.”
“Do you?” He studies me. “Because the Tommy you married - the charming, golden son - that’s not the real Tommy.
The real Tommy is the one who testified against his own brother to protect a pile of dirty money.
The real Tommy is the one who planned your divorce for three weeks while smiling at you across the breakfast table. ”
I flinch. Can’t help it.
“I’m not saying this to hurt you.” Luca’s voice softens, just slightly. “I’m saying it because you need to understand what we’re dealing with. This family doesn’t fight fair. They fight to win. And they don’t care who gets destroyed in the process.”
“Including you.”
“Especially me.” He stands. Stretches. His shirt rides up, and I catch a glimpse of more ink across his hip - a date, maybe, in elegant script - before he pulls the fabric down. “I was their son. Their heir. And they threw me away like garbage the moment I became inconvenient.”
“What happened? Really?”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then he crosses to a filing cabinet, pulls out a folder, and hands it to me.
“Five years ago, a worker died at one of our vineyard facilities. Equipment failure. Victor knew the equipment was faulty - there were reports, complaints, all of it buried. But instead of fixing it, he covered it up. Paid off the family. Made it disappear.”
I open the folder. Photos. Documents. A death certificate.
“I found out. Tried to take it to the board. Thought if they saw the evidence, they’d have to do something.” His laugh is bitter. “Instead, Tommy testified that I’d fabricated it. Said I was unstable. Delusional. Trying to destroy the family because I was jealous of him.”
“And they believed him?”
“They wanted to believe him. It was easier than facing the truth.” He takes the folder back. “Victor has cops on his payroll. Prosecutors who owe him favors. I had all the evidence in the world, and none of it mattered.”
“So you became a divorce attorney.”
“So I became someone who knows how to fight dirty.” He meets my eyes. “And I’ve been waiting five years for someone who wasn’t afraid to fight with me.”
The air between us shifts. Charges.
I should look away. Should break this moment before it becomes something dangerous.
But I can’t stop staring at him. At the pain in his eyes that mirrors my own. At the jaw tight with anger. At the mouth that looks like it would know exactly how to-
Stop. This is insane. He’s Tommy’s brother. You’ve known him for twenty-four hours.
But my body doesn’t seem to care about logic. My body is very interested in the way he’s looking at me. The way his eyes keep dropping to my lips, then snapping back up like he’s catching himself.
Is he thinking about it too?
The thought sends heat rushing through me. Dangerous heat. Forbidden heat.
I stand up. Too quickly. The chair scrapes against the floor.
“I should go. I need to - process all of this.”
“Of course.” His voice is rough. He clears his throat. “I’ll send you the address for Renata’s office. We’ll meet there tomorrow to review the filings.”
“Okay. Good.” I’m babbling now. Need to get out of here before I do something stupid. “Thank you. For, for all of this.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” He walks me to the door. Opens it. “We haven’t won anything.”
“No. But at least now I’m fighting.”
He smiles. A real smile, for the first time. It transforms his face - makes him look younger, softer, almost approachable.
Dangerous. So dangerous.
“Get some sleep, Maria. Tomorrow, the war starts for real.”
I nod. Walk out. Make it all the way to my car before I let myself breathe.
What the hell am I doing?
I’m about to go to war against one of the most powerful families in the city. I’m pregnant with my cheating husband’s baby. My sister stole my life, and my mother-in-law blames me for it.
And all I can think about is the way Luca Moretti looked at me when he thought I wasn’t watching.
Like I was something worth fighting for.
Like I was something worth wanting.
I press my forehead against the steering wheel.
This is such a bad idea.
But as I start the car and pull away from his office, I realize something.
For the first time since Giuliana knocked on my door, I don’t feel alone.
And that might be the most dangerous thing of all.