I Refused the Moretti Name Chapter 06
Three days later, I walked into the boardroom at Moretti Holdings on Wall Street.
Dad sat at the head of the table. Luca ran group operations, Nico oversaw hotel security, and Mom was honorary chair of the Aurora Foundation. Matteo and Sofia served on the charity’s board. For once, the whole family was present, although not one of them mentioned that I’d moved out.
Nico lounged in his chair. “We can’t get you home for free, but billable hours do the trick.”
I opened my laptop. “Alden’s clock started at nine. That comment is going on the invoice.” His smirk disappeared.
I projected the review summary. “Aurora raised eight hundred sixty thousand dollars last year. Four hundred ten thousand went to aid programs. One hundred ten thousand was legitimate operating expense. The remaining three hundred forty thousand needs an explanation.”
Sofia lifted her chin. “The foundation is audited every year.”
“An audit can confirm that an invoice exists. It doesn’t prove the spending was appropriate.”
The next slide showed two hundred eighty thousand dollars in marketing contracts. Vendors had purchased influencer campaigns, a Times Square billboard, and seats at fashion events for Sofia’s private jewelry label.
I displayed the vendor trail next: three shell agencies, identical billing addresses, and approvals pushed through within minutes of one another late on Friday nights. None of it required a lecture on mafia accounting. The scheme was ordinary, which was why it was dangerous. Someone had counted on the Moretti name making ordinary questions feel impolite.
Mom jumped in. “The Aurora logo appeared in the campaign.”
“The foundation paid every dollar, while Sofia’s company received the orders. There was no cost–sharing agreement, no board authorization, and no conflict disclosure.”
Sofia’s composure cracked. “My assistant said it was a joint campaign.”
“Your signature is on the approvals.”
Luca took the documents and flipped through them, his frown deepening with every page.
Dad rested both hands on the table. “What’s your recommendation?”
“Freeze the related accounts, recover the two hundred eighty thousand, and have outside counsel investigate the approval chain.”
“We’ll handle remediation internally,” he said. “Moretti business doesn’t need to land on a stranger’s desk.”
“Alden was hired by the underwriter. We aren’t here to sweep the table clean before guests arrive.”
The room went still.
The chief financial officer cleared his throat and passed me another agreement. “Ms. Hart, there’s also a sixty- thousand–dollar consulting payment. The system says it passed independent compliance review.”
The reviewer’s name was Elena Hart.
The signature was a good imitation, and a copy of my driver’s license sat behind the contract. A single staple hole marked its upper–left corner. I recognized it. Three years earlier, Sofia had taken that copy from Dad’s study while updating the family’s medical insurance.
Mom’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Elena, is that your signature?”
“No.”
Nico sat forward. “You were quick to put everyone else under a microscope. Now your name comes up, and all you’ve got is no?”
I opened Alden’s digital certificate log. On the day the agreement was signed, I had been at a training session in Chicago. My encrypted key had never been accessed.
“That’s not all I’ve got.” I turned the screen toward him, then slid the forged approval across the table to Sofia.
The independent review partner had already verified the metadata. The file was created on a laptop assigned to Sofia’s office, then uploaded through the foundation’s network. I hadn’t brought an accusation to that room. I had brought a chain of evidence.
Her hand moved toward the inhaler in her purse.
“If you need medication, use it,” I said. “Matteo is right here. When you’re able to speak, you’re going to explain this contract.”
She stared at me, fingers clenched around the inhaler.
It didn’t matter whether she truly needed it or wanted an exit. No one was ending the meeting for her this time, and no one could accuse me of denying a real illness to hold that boundary.
