5 Years Ago
The wedding reception should have been the beginning of an alliance — two families folding their power into one, Beverly Hills' finest raising glasses to the future. Instead, Sebastián Moretti spat on the courtesy of it all and walked out as if the world owed him an apology. Murphy Donovan felt the slight like a fist to the ribs. For twenty years he'd angled for Moretti's favor: dinners, compliments, deals dressed up as friendship. Tonight, that labor meant nothing.
Murphy sat in the shadowed hush of his private lounge, the air heavy with cigar smoke and the invisible dust of bruised pride. He swirled brandy in a crystal tumbler until the liquid painted slow moons on the glass. He thought of headlines that had once promised a dynasty: his daughter linked to the scion of Moretti. The image of two names tangled together — Donovan–Moretti — had opened doors, loosened pockets. But Sebastián had already decided the match unworthy. He had dismissed Murphy like a servant turning down a bowl; that dismissal burned.
Then he tried reaching the father through the son—but Vincent was just a version of Sebastián—younger and more arrogant.
He sipped from the glass—but the heart of the drink was unable to wash the sorrows of his mind. He leaned into the head rest and his eyes peeled off to the ceiling.
He had always wanted Moretti Homes. The empire that was out of his reach. And Tracy—his own daughter was the answer to that, but he'd have to clear the obstacles ahead for her.
He left the lounge to his study. The halls were dim and for a moment he saw shadows crawling in the walls—his sins.
He lifted the receiver, his fingers punching in the number with deliberate calm. If he truly wanted Moretti Homes, then Sebastián had to be removed from the board — and there was only one man in the world who kept the sins of every other man locked neatly in his closet.
He listened to the high, insistent ring while the study's dim light carved shadows across his face, and felt the cold readiness settle in him—he was about to pull a man apart.
Click
"I have a matter I'd want you to look into for me." There was a brief pause before the person on the other end spoke.
"You come to hang a man for his own sins, yet yours sing like the sparrows."
The voice of the devil poured from the phone, Murphy stiffened.
"Sebastián Moretti is the man I want. Tell me what you need to get this done." He said and waited, the silence deafening.
"I will come for what is mine in due course, consider your request done."
He replaced the receiver and lighted a large cigar. In the grey smoke his face hardened like concrete, he had just made his bed and whatever the outcome he was going to lay in it.
Present
Tracy had no way of knowing why Voss had suddenly asked her to visit her father, and the drive from her villa across town felt like the longest of her life. It wasn't until she saw the solemn look on her father's face that a cold unease began to bloom inside her.
She came round to sit in the chair opposite him, in his study.
"You look well." Murphy leaned into his chair.
"You look old, you're aging faster now." She teased him.
"You will get here soon enough and we'll see if the Vice president's son would still love your curves."
Tracy laughed for a moment then when she stopped she looked at her father, her tone serious. "What is going on dad?"
Murphy didn't make effort to hide it. "How I can I say this." He chuckled "The devil has come for what I owe him."
"Voss?" Tracy corked head. Murphy nodded and slid a file that he pulled from the drawer to her.
She flipped through, briefly recognizing Edson Fords and her dead ex-father-in-law. Her eyes narrowed.
"I don't understand. Why is your connection to this." She asked.
Murphy cleared his throat. "Five years ago…"
"Dad I know how he slapped down your offer of merging empires" Tracy said impatiently.
Murphy frowned "You have all the bad habits of your mother don't you"
"Yet you loved her, but cut to the chase I have somewhere to be." she grinned.
"I had Voss put Sebastián down. And to do that he had to cut off Sebastián's healthy legs—Edson."
"Jesus dad. You've been playing your own game since day one. But what has this to do with me and you know who" she refrained from saying Vincent's blame like a plague or a curse she feared.
"It has everything. I wanted Moretti Homes. Voss offered to clear the way for me and later come for his debt later. That debt is due." His lips quivered when he said that.
"Then pay him off and that's settled" she rose and grabbed her bag.
"It's not that simple." Murphy shook his head.
She turned to him. "Is there something I should know?"
"He wants Vincent as his price. And if we don't get him Vincent by the end of the month, the world will know what I've been up to these last few years." He turned to the window.
Tracy sank back into the chair, clutching her bag with both hands. Voss already knew the truth about her divorce—and now, he had something far worse: leverage over her father.
"What are we going to do?" Murphy asked.
Jennifer. The name flashed through her mind, her veins popped. This was all because of that peasant girl.
"That woman he's seeing. What can you do about it?" Murphy asked again.
"I have a plan, but it's going to take some time, you should let Voss know that, no one wants this thing more than I do" she rose again.
"Tracy." Murphy called after her. She turned at the door. "I hope you know what you're doing?" He had never known his baby girl to be the type to hold a vendetta, maybe he didn't know her at all.
"Don't you worry about me. What you should worry about is how you're going to take Moretti Homes for us" she gave him a sweet smile and left.