Chapter 14 - THE PLEA
A week later, rain washed over the city as Marcus Mercer stood outside the gates of the Moretti Citadel.
He looked unyielding, yet utterly defeated. His luxury penthouse had been put up for court-ordered auction, his credit lines were terminated, and his name had become a cautionary tale across every financial publication in the country.
He wore a dark raincoat, standing beside his lone remaining sedan, waiting under the heavy iron archway.
The heavy iron gates hummed, sliding open slowly.
Nico Moretti stepped out, holding a large black umbrella against the downpour. He walked down the driveway until he stood ten feet from Marcus.
"She won't see you, Marcus," Nico said flatly, his hands tucked into his coat pockets.
"Nico... please," Marcus begged, stepping forward, his hands clasped together. "I just want five minutes! I just want to see my daughter! I haven't even been allowed to hold her!"
Nico’s eyes turned cold as winter ice. "You lost the right to hold that baby the second you stood in that ballroom three weeks ago and let Isabella speak down to your wife. You lost it when you ignored Khloe's warnings about the fraud. You were supposed to be her shield, Marcus. Instead, you were the open door the wolf walked through."
"I was blind!" Marcus wept, the rain washing down his face, mixing with his tears. "I know I failed! I know I was an idiot! But she’s my daughter, Nico! She carries my name!"
Nico pulled a legal document from inside his waterproof folder and held it out across the gap.
"She doesn't carry your name anymore, Marcus," Nico said smoothly. "Her legal name is Maya Moretti. And this document is a full relinquishment of paternal rights."
Marcus stared at the paper as if it were a burning blade. "I won't sign it... you can't force me to sign away my child!"
"You don't have to sign it today," Nico replied, his voice calm, steady, and merciless. "You can fight it in court. But every day you fight it, Luca will unseal another layer of your corporate tax filings. By the time you reach a family court judge, you'll be sharing a cell wing with Arthur Vance."
Marcus trembled, looking at the crisp white paper. He looked up at the high stone walls of the Citadel, where a single light burned warmly in the second-floor nursery window.
He knew he was beaten. He knew that against the united front of the five Moretti brothers, his money, his influence, and his pride were nothing more than dust in the wind.
With a shaking hand, Marcus pulled a pen from his pocket, pressed the paper against the hood of his car, and signed his name on the dotted line.
May you like
Nico took the paper, inspected the signature, and nodded once.
"Goodbye, Marcus," Nico said, turning back toward the gates. "Don't come back."
