Chapter 2 - The Illusion of Domestic Peace
The rain continued to pour over the embankment, yet neither man blinked.
Luca Moretti stood with his hands resting casually inside his damp pockets, radiating lethal calm.
Grant Bennett stopped five feet away, wiping a drop of rain from his cheek with a manicured hand.
"Thank you for pulling my wife from the wreckage," Grant said, his tone carrying the polite authority of an executive.
Luca did not return the pleasantry.
"The car is at the bottom of the canal," Luca stated flatly.
Grant looked down at Claire, extending an open hand toward her.
"Come on, darling," Grant urged gently.
"Let's get you into a warm car before shock sets in."
Claire pulled her soaked knees to her chest and remained tucked behind Luca's legs.
Grant’s outstretched fingers tightened into a rigid fist before he let his arm fall back to his side.
"Claire," Grant repeated, his tone dropping half an octave into quiet reprimand.
"No," Claire whispered, her voice cracking against the cold.
Grant shifted his attention back to Luca, offering a dismissive corporate smile.
"This is a private domestic matter, friend."
"I appreciate your good citizenship, but we can handle it from here."
Luca did not move an inch.
"She says no."
Grant’s jaw twitched, a hairline crack appearing in his polished exterior.
"She sustained a head injury during the accident."
"She is clearly disoriented and not in her right mind."
"I am not disoriented," Claire spoke louder, her voice gaining steel despite her chattering teeth.
"I left because I finally found what you put in my dressing room."
Grant sighed softly, shaking his head with manufactured pity.
"We discussed your paranoia, Claire."
"You have been having severe anxiety episodes for months."
"Stop lying to people," Claire shouted, struggling to stand up using Luca's arm for support.
Luca offered his forearm, allowing her to steady herself against his solid frame.
He could feel the violent tremor in her limbs, but her eyes were entirely lucid.
In Luca’s line of work, he recognized real insanity, and he recognized manufactured leverage.
This woman was terrified, but she was not crazy.
Red and blue flashing lights crested the bridge above, accompanied by the low rumble of local law enforcement cruisers.
Two county patrol vehicles and an ambulance pulled onto the shoulder.
Grant’s eyes flickered toward the flashing lights, an unmistakable irritation crossing his brow.
Claire lunged her hand toward Luca's coat sleeve, her knuckles white.
"Please, don't let him take my bag," she pleaded desperately.
Luca looked down and noticed a small, waterlogged leather crossbody bag still strapped across her chest.
Grant took a sharp step forward, his mask slipping entirely.
"Give me that bag, Claire."
Luca shifted his posture, his driver Marco immediately moving into an intercepting stance.
"Take another step down this bank, and you won't walk back up it," Marco warned coldly.
County Deputy Miller slid down the muddy incline with a heavy flashlight drawn.
"Everyone step back," the deputy commanded, sweeping the beam across the three individuals.
Paramedics followed closely behind with trauma blankets and a medical kit.
"I am Grant Bennett, CEO of Bennett Risk Solutions," Grant announced instantly, presenting his identification.
"My wife lost control of her vehicle in the storm, and she requires immediate private hospitalization."
Deputy Miller looked at Claire, whose forehead was coated in a mixture of crimson blood and canal grit.
"Ma'am, do you want this man near you?" the deputy asked directly.
"No," Claire replied without hesitation.
"I want him kept away from me."
"I am refusing to leave with him under any circumstances."
Grant stepped in, his legal team’s rehearsed cadence flowing from his lips.
"She is my legal spouse, officer, and her medical decisions fall under my power of attorney during trauma."
"Not while she is conscious and coherent, sir," Deputy Miller countered firmly.
"Step back up to the road and let the medics evaluate her."
The paramedics wrapped an emergency foil blanket around Claire's trembling shoulders.
As they guided her toward the medical gurney, Claire unclipped the soaked leather bag from her torso.
She handed it straight into Deputy Miller’s hands.
"This bag contains evidence of unlawful electronic surveillance and corporate embezzlement," Claire stated clearly.
Grant’s composure shattered, his eyes turning murderous for a fraction of a second.
"Officer, that bag contains proprietary corporate hardware belonging to my firm," Grant snapped.
"Taking it into personal custody constitutes grand larceny."
Deputy Miller sealed the wet leather bag inside a heavy plastic evidence pouch.
"It will be logged into the county chain of custody at the station, Mr. Bennett."
Luca watched Grant’s reaction with keen, calculated interest.
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A billionaire did not lose his composure over stolen jewelry or designer handbags.
Whatever was inside that plastic pouch held the power to destroy Grant Bennett completely.
