Chapter 5 - THE HOTEL TEST
Emma insisted on going to work the next morning.
Luca insisted that was stupid.
They compromised by arguing for twenty-three minutes and then doing what Emma had originally planned.
Adrian Cole greeted her at the Moretti Grand Hotel like nothing was wrong.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
He smiled.
“Ready to review banquet staffing?”
“Yes.”
Emma watched him.
Mid-forties.
Divorced.
Competent.
Always professional.
Nothing about him screamed conspiracy.
That was the problem.
People imagined betrayal came with dramatic music.
Usually it came with spreadsheets.
Emma spent the morning auditing banquet labor.
At noon, Adrian asked:
“Lunch?”
“Working.”
“With me.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Why?”
He smiled.
“Career discussion.”
That could be real.
Or trap.
Emma texted Luca one word.
LUNCH.
He replied:
ASK.
She smiled despite herself.
Growth.
They met in the hotel restaurant.
Public.
Security nearby.
Adrian ordered soup.
Emma tea.
He leaned forward.
“You want management.”
“Yes.”
“You’re good.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re also making yourself difficult to promote.”
She frowned.
“How?”
“Luca.”
There it was.
“What about him?”
“People think you’re his girlfriend.”
“I am.”
Lie still active.
Adrian smiled faintly.
“That’s the problem.”
Emma stared.
“You’re saying sleeping with the owner hurts my career?”
“I’m saying everyone assumes your advancement comes from him.”
Her jaw tightened.
That was exactly what she feared.
Adrian continued.
“If you want legitimacy, step away.”
“From Luca?”
“Yes.”
“Professionally?”
“Personally.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed.
“Why do you care?”
“Because Anthony Vella cares.”
There.
No denial.
She set down her cup.
“How long have you been meeting him?”
Adrian’s face changed.
Not guilt.
Resignation.
“So you know.”
“Yes.”
“Luca?”
“Yes.”
Adrian exhaled.
“I wondered how long.”
“Why meet him?”
“Because he offered me the regional presidency.”
Emma stared.
“What?”
“If Ferraro Holdings restructures after January.”
There it was.
Anthony had promised positions ahead of Luca’s weakened control.
“Did you accept?”
“No.”
“Then why meet three times?”
“Because I wanted to know how real the threat was.”
“And?”
“Very.”
“Why not tell Luca?”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“Tell Luca Moretti that his own cousin’s faction is recruiting executives?”
“Yes.”
“That can sound like self-preservation.”
“It is.”
“Exactly.”
Emma understood.
People feared bringing Luca bad news because bad news made them look involved.
Same old pattern.
Different building.
“Did Anthony ask about me?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Whether your training was real.”
Her stomach tightened.
“And?”
“I said yes.”
“What else?”
“Whether you had access to Luca’s schedule.”
“No.”
“Whether you were ambitious.”
Emma almost laughed.
“Why?”
Adrian looked uncomfortable.
“Because ambitious people can be bought.”
There it was.
Class insult with cleaner language.
“Did he offer?”
Adrian nodded.
“What?”
“Director of guest services at one of Russo’s Manhattan properties.”
Emma stared.
That was a serious position.
Two levels above where she was aiming.
“Salary?”
“Almost double what you’d earn here starting.”
Her stomach twisted.
Of course.
Anthony’s strategy.
Not threaten Emma away.
Buy her away.
“If I leave Luca?”
“Yes.”
Emma laughed once.
“That’s almost flattering.”
Adrian studied her.
“Would you consider it?”
“No.”
“Because of Luca?”
“No.”
She leaned forward.
“Because I don’t want my first management job to be payment for disappearing from a man’s life.”
Adrian nodded slowly.
“Good answer.”
“Did you tell Anthony I’d refuse?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I wanted you to decide.”
That earned him something.
Then:
“Will you tell Luca?”
“Yes.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
Adrian looked relieved.
“Good.”
Emma frowned.
“You could have.”
“I know.”
Again.
Fear.
Luca’s reputation.
Silence.
Emma returned upstairs.
At 2:30, a woman waited outside her temporary office.
Camille Russo.
Emma stopped.
“Of course.”
Camille looked tired.
Not glamorous.
No red dress.
Gray coat.
Hair tied back.
“You have five minutes?”
Emma considered.
“Security?”
Camille nodded toward the hallway camera.
“Probably twelve.”
Emma let her in.
Camille remained standing.
“I didn’t send the notes.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Too organized.”
Camille almost smiled.
Then:
“My uncle Anthony is using me.”
Emma leaned against the desk.
“Join the club.”
“He told everyone I wanted Luca back.”
“Do you?”
Camille stared.
“No.”
Good.
“Then why?”
“Because my humiliation gives him a clean story.”
Emma understood.
Rejected Russo woman.
Maid replaces her.
Russo honor offended.
Political pressure becomes personal.
“Does your father know?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He wants me to marry Dominic Moretti’s son if Luca won’t marry me.”
Emma closed her eyes.
“This is livestock.”
Camille laughed bitterly.
“Finally, something we agree on.”
Then:
“Anthony is trying to combine Russo money with Dominic’s voting rights.”
“We know.”
Camille’s eyes widened.
“Then you know the deadline.”
“Yes.”
“Does Luca know Anthony plans to challenge him immediately after January sixth?”
“No.”
Emma straightened.
“Challenge how?”
“Board vote first.”
“And after?”
Camille looked away.
“That depends on whether Luca steps down quietly.”
Emma’s stomach went cold.
“Meaning?”
“You know.”
She did.
Not legal only.
Mafia hierarchy.
Men who lose power do not always retire.
“Why tell me?”
Camille laughed.
“Because apparently you’re the only woman in this entire disaster nobody successfully arranged.”
Emma almost smiled.
Then Camille became serious.
“And because my father thinks Anthony will discard me after he gets what he wants.”
“Why?”
“I know too much.”
That mattered.
“Are you in danger?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you want Luca’s protection?”
Camille’s face tightened.
“No.”
Then she stopped.
Thought.
“Maybe.”
Good.
Honest.
Emma called Luca.
He arrived eleven minutes later with Nico.
Camille told him everything.
He listened.
No yelling.
No threats.
Then:
“Your father?”
“Complicit in money. Not the removal plan.”
“Anthony?”
“Yes.”
“Dominic?”
“Wants control. I don’t know if he supports violence.”
Luca’s face hardened.
Family.
Always worse.
Then Camille looked at Emma.
“I owe you an apology.”
Emma blinked.
“For the dinner?”
“Yes.”
Camille swallowed.
“I was cruel because I thought if Luca chose someone like you instead of me, it meant something was wrong with me.”
Emma stared.
Camille continued.
“So I tried to make it mean something was wrong with you.”
There it was.
Clean.
Ugly.
Honest.
Emma nodded.
“Thank you.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“No.”
Camille almost laughed.
“Fair.”
Emma continued.
“But apology accepted.”
Different.
Camille nodded.
Then Luca said:
“We need proof Anthony is recruiting against trust before January.”
Emma looked at Adrian.
He had joined them.
“I can get that.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
“How?”
Adrian said:
“He offered me position in writing.”
Everyone stared.
“You kept it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian smiled faintly.
“Hotels teach documentation.”
Emma liked him more.
The email tied Anthony to a post-January restructuring.
Not enough for crime.
Enough for board politics.
Camille had messages showing her uncle discussing Russo investment commitments.
Again, evidence.
Luca started assembling legitimate corporate defenses.
Lawyers.
Votes.
Auditors.
Emma watched.
No guns.
Good.
Then Nico’s phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Dominic’s son was found unconscious in his car.”
Silence.
Emma’s stomach dropped.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Cause?”
“Unknown.”
Luca looked at Camille.
Her face had gone white.
Then Nico added:
“There’s a note.”
Of course.
“What does it say?”
Nico looked at Emma.
Then read:
THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN FAMILIES FORGET THEIR PLACE.
Emma felt the room close around her.
Because Anthony’s pressure campaign had just become something worse.
And if someone was hurting Morettis and making it look like Russo retaliation—
May you like
the fake relationship was no longer merely covering a voting fight.
It was sitting in the middle of a manufactured war.
