Chapter 2 - The Stolen Glance
The hours ticked past with the merciless precision of a Swiss watch. The Moretti estate was a whirlwind of high-stakes corporate communication, visiting executives, and hurried staff members whispering in corridors. Yet, through it all, Olivia moved like a ghost passing through solid walls. She delivered memos, balanced ledger sheets, and brewed chamomile tea for Victor’s afternoon migraine without missing a single beat.
At 2:30 PM, the atmosphere in the penthouse shifted.
Victor sat in his office, pretending to review a set of architectural blueprints for a new hotel resort in Tokyo, but his peripheral vision was entirely locked onto the glass partition facing the hallway.
At 2:43 PM, Olivia emerged from the supply room. She carried her worn canvas backpack over one shoulder. He watched as she unzipped it slightly to check its contents. From where he sat, Victor caught a brief, tantalizing glimpse of the interior: a faded leather wallet, a heavy ring of iron keys, and the corner of a photograph frame edged in cracked silver.
She zipped the bag shut with a nervous, hurried snap.
At 2:44 PM, she walked down the grand corridor toward the private elevator.
Just before stepping across the threshold, Olivia stopped. A sudden, unexplainable instinct made her turn her head. Her eyes locked onto Victor’s office. Through the glass, she found him standing by his desk, watching her with an intense, unwavering gaze.
There was no anger in his face. No corporate coldness. Just a profound, burning curiosity—the look of a predator who had finally scented its prey and decided to hunt.
Panic flared hot and sharp in Olivia’s chest. She gave a stiff, formal nod, turned quickly, and pressed the elevator button. The doors slid shut, sealing her away.
Victor didn't hesitate. He grabbed his tailored wool overcoat from the mahogany stand, slipped his phone into his pocket, and strode out of his office with long, silent strides.
"Mr. Moretti?" his chief of security, Marcus, asked, stepping out from the security hub. "Where are you heading? The board meeting with the German investors is at four."
"Reschedule it," Victor said flatly without breaking his stride. "I have an appointment across the city."
"Do you need a car? A security detail?"
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"No," Victor muttered, his eyes fixed on the moving indicator of the private elevator. "I'm going to walk alone. Don't let anyone know I'm gone."
By the time Victor reached the ground floor and slipped through the wrought-iron gates of the estate, Olivia was already three blocks away, boarding the north-bound subway train that rumbled beneath the concrete arteries of Chicago.
