Chapter 2 - the master key
The heavy silence in the corridor felt suffocating. Evelyn Crane stood rigid, her hand instinctively reaching for the jeweled brooch at her lapel as her calculated demeanor dissolved into raw panic.
"Mr. Moretti," Evelyn stammered, her voice losing its icy composure. "The child is confused. My private office contains confidential household payroll records and private personnel files. It is locked per your own security protocol."
Dominic didn't answer her. He looked down at four-year-old Lily, offering a faint nod of acknowledgment, before turning his imposing frame toward the mahogany door at the end of the hall.
"Key, Evelyn," Dominic commanded flatly, his voice carrying a quiet, dangerous thunder.
Evelyn adjusted her black designer jacket, taking a slow step forward. "I don't carry the master key on my person during kitchen inspections, Dominic. It is kept in the safe downstairs. If you give me an hour, I will retrieve it—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Dominic stepped up to the heavy oak door. He reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a master titanium bypass key—a tool carried only by the Don of the Moretti family—inserted it into the brass keyhole, and turned it with a sharp, heavy click.
The heavy door swung open, revealing a luxurious private office lined with dark walnut bookshelves, a leather executive desk, and three fireproof steel filing cabinets.
Dominic walked inside, his polished leather shoes striking the hardwood floor. Anna followed cautiously, holding Lily in her arms, while Norah Bennett stepped through the doorway with her clipboard, her hands still shaking. Evelyn remained in the threshold, flanked by two broad-shouldered Moretti enforcers who had quietly stepped into the hallway behind her.
"Norah," Dominic said, leaning against the edge of the leather desk. "Which cabinet?"
Norah glanced nervously at Evelyn, who glared at her with pure venom. But Norah took a deep breath, stepped past her manager, and pointed toward the bottom drawer of the central steel cabinet.
"Cabinet B, lock three," Norah revealed, her voice clear despite her nervousness. "Ms. Crane keeps a secondary set of physical ledgers that are never uploaded to the digital estate server."
Dominic pulled out a small steel tension bar, unlocked the cabinet, and pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside lay five thick leather-bound binders labeled Staff Deductions & Specialty Contingencies.
Dominic pulled down the binder labeled with Anna Carter’s name. He flipped through the crisp pages.
Inside were Anna’s original employment contract from eighteen months ago, alongside dozens of forged authorization forms bearing Anna’s copied signature. According to the documents, half of Anna’s monthly salary had been systematically withheld every single month under the guise of estate property damage fees and unauthorized child residence penalties.
Anna gasped softly, tears brimming in her soft brown eyes as she stared at the numbers. "I... I thought my lower paychecks were because of tax withholdings, Mr. Moretti. Ms. Crane told me that having Lily live on the property cost extra insurance..."
Dominic’s jaw set like iron. "You were paid three thousand dollars a month on paper, Anna. How much were you actually receiving?"
"Twelve hundred," Anna whispered, hugging Lily closer to her chest.
Dominic turned a slow, terrifying gaze toward Evelyn. "Where did the remaining eighteen hundred dollars a month go, Evelyn?"
Evelyn straightened her spine, attempting to summon her former authority. "It was allocated to the estate emergency reserve fund! A housekeeper bringing a disabled child into a high-security Mafia residence creates immense liability!"
Norah immediately stepped forward, holding out two blue carbon-copy bank receipts from her clipboard. "That's not true, Don Moretti. The withheld funds were wired every month into a private account registered under the name Apex Holdings in the Cayman Islands."
Dominic took the receipts. He recognized the name Apex Holdings instantly. It was a corporate shell company linked directly to Richard Vance—a disgraced former Moretti associate who had been exiled from Chicago five years ago after attempting a hostile takeover of the family's river shipping routes.
Dominic folded the bank receipts slowly, sliding them into his suit jacket. He looked at the two enforcers standing in the hallway.
"Lock Ms. Crane in the third-floor holding suite," Dominic ordered softly. "Take her phone, her keys, and her jewelry. No one speaks to her until I return."
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Evelyn gasped as the two enforcers grabbed her arms, stripping the jeweled brooch from her lapel. "Dominic! You can't do this! I served your father for twenty years!"
"My father is dead, Evelyn," Dominic said coldly. "And you just stole from my house."
