Chapter 2 - the unopened letters
The silence inside the grand lobby of Moretti Plaza was so heavy it felt as though the air itself had solidified. Marco DeLuca stepped closer to Dominic, his sharp eyes darting from the folded document in his boss's hand to the tiny girl in the yellow dress.
"Boss?" Marco asked softly, his hand resting near his lapel. "Is that your father's seal?"
Dominic didn't answer immediately. His dark eyes remained fixed on the signature at the bottom of the page—the bold, sweeping strokes of Lorenzo Moretti, written just three weeks before his sudden passing eight years ago.
Dominic looked down at little Lily. "Where is your mother right now, Lily?"
"She's outside," Lily said, pointing toward the heavy glass revolving doors. "She was crying because she couldn't pay our rent. She told me to stay on the bench, but I saw your picture on the big TV in the window, so I came in."
At that exact moment, the glass doors swung open violently.
Anna Carter came bursting into the lobby, her breath catching in her throat, her fair, rosy cheeks flushed with pure panic. Beautiful, gentle, intelligent, and quietly resilient, the early-thirties single mother looked frantic as her brown eyes searched the grand hall. She wore a modest pale-blue blouse, a dark skirt, and simple shoes, her chestnut-brown hair slightly disheveled from running.
"Lily!" Anna gasped, sprinting across the marble floor toward her daughter. She dropped to her knees, pulling Lily into a fierce embrace, checking her arms and face. "Lily, oh thank God! I told you to stay on the bench!"
"Mommy, don't cry," Lily whispered, wrapping her small arms around Anna's neck. "I gave the man your letters."
Anna froze. She slowly lifted her head, her soft brown eyes meeting Dominic Moretti's piercing gaze for the first time in eight years.
A visible tremor ran through Anna's frame. She stood up slowly, keeping Lily firmly behind her pale-blue blouse, her hands trembling slightly despite her best efforts to remain calm.
"Mr. Moretti," Anna said, her voice quiet, steady, but laced with a deep, defensive protectiveness. "I am so sorry. My daughter didn't mean to bother you. We were just leaving."
"You worked for Moretti Group for eight years, Anna," Dominic spoke, his deep voice carrying a calm authority that demanded answers. "And five minutes ago, an unauthorized termination order was issued under my corporate key."
Anna looked away, her jaw tightening. "It doesn't matter. I know how things work in this building. When someone at the top wants you gone, you leave."
Dominic stepped forward, holding up the old shoebox filled with unopened letters. "My father died eight years ago, Anna. Why are there thirty-two unread letters addressed to him in your daughter's backpack?"
Anna's face went pale. Before she could answer, Marco’s secure earpiece beeped. He tapped the receiver, listened for five seconds, and his jaw locked into rigid steel.
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"Boss," Marco reported in a low, dangerous tone. "The termination order wasn't generated by HR. It was issued from the server in the executive boardroom on the fiftieth floor... three minutes after you entered the building."
Dominic’s eyes darkened into something lethal. "Someone in this building saw Anna enter the lobby and tried to erase her employment record before she could reach me."
