Chapter 4 - Sunrise at the DocksBy seven o'clock the next morning, the fog rolling off the harbor was thick enough to swallow the lower decks of the cargo ships docked at Pier 14.
Natalia Duca pulled her beige trench coat tighter around her shoulders as she hurried across the cobblestone parking lot toward the administrative annex of Moretti Shipping. Her heels clicked sharply against the wet stone. She had barely slept three hours, her phone had buzzed twice with panicked texts from Dante, and now her stomach was doing slow, sickening rolls as she thought about facing Isabella Romano Moretti’s wrath.
She swiped her employee badge at the side entrance.
Beep.
Red light.
“Access denied,” the digital reader flashed.
Natalia frowned, pulling the badge from her neck and scanning it again.
Beep. Access denied. Credential revoked.
“What?” she muttered to herself.
She tapped the glass door, but the heavy iron lock remained firmly engaged. Just then, a heavy hand landed on her shoulder.
Natalia shrieked, spinning around.
It was Detective Miller, a gray-haired veteran of the city’s financial crimes unit whom Natalia had seen twice at corporate charity lunches. He wasn't wearing a uniform; he wore a rumpled tweed jacket and a fedora that smelled of wet wool. Behind him stood two uniform officers and a woman carrying a heavy leather briefcase—a woman Natalia recognized instantly as the senior federal bankruptcy trustee for the district.
“Natalia Duca?” Miller asked, pulling a folded document from his pocket.
“Yes? Who are you? I’m an executive assistant at Moretti Foundation—”
“You were an executive assistant,” Miller corrected her quietly, unfolding the paper. “Right now, you’re being detained for questioning regarding corporate embezzlement, wire fraud, and conspiracy to commit money laundering under federal docket number 24-CR-881.”
Natalia’s breath caught in her throat. The world tilted violently sideways.
“Embezzlement? Federal docket? There’s some kind of mistake! I work for the charity! I organize the galas! Ask Dante—Mr. Moretti—he’ll tell you—”
“Mr. Moretti is currently being served with a parallel freeze order at his cliffside residence,” Miller said smoothly, gesturing to the officers. “And as for your boss... well, let’s just say Mrs. Moretti cleaned out your desk yesterday afternoon before she even went to the gala.”
“Mrs. Moretti...?” Natalia choked out as cold steel cuffs clamped around her slender wrists.
“She’s a very thorough auditor,” Miller remarked, guiding her toward an unmarked black cruiser parked near the loading crane. “Left us a neat little paper trail that goes all the way back to your first bonus check in the Marina.”
As the cruiser door slammed shut, sealing her inside the dark backseat, Natalia stared through the fogged-up window at the gray waters of the harbor. The golden dress she had worn last night felt like a costume from a life that had ended a million miles away.
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