Stacy Moretti Novels & Stories

--- Back to Nick Three days later, another ghost walks in. This one hides it better. Elena Moretti — money launderer, syndicate accountant, survivor. She smiles when she sees Rafe, but there’s calculation behind it. She sits. Orders tea. Studies him like she’s solving a puzzle. I don’t leave my seat. She doesn’t look at me directly — which tells me she knows exactly who I am. When Rafe steps away, she finally speaks. “He looks good,” she says lightly. “He’s alive,” I answer.

she said, placing a folder in front of him, “is from Moretti Holdings.” The name tugged something deep in his chest. He flipped the file open and stopped. The photo clipped to the top corner was in high resolution. Better lighting. Better clothes. But it was her. Zara. Hair pulled back. Perfect posture. A wine-red lipstick he recognized far too well. The name printed beneath the image: Zara Moretti, Principal Stakeholder, Moretti Holdings Group. For a half-second, the room narrowed. So this was her move. She hadn’t run.

“No one jokes with a straight face like that.” His gaze shifted to Damon. “Can you explain it more? I would like to know what Stacy is hiding from me.” Noah’s query brought a victorious smirk to Damon’s face. He began, his voice smooth with satisfaction. “As I said before, Stacy isn’t a simple human like you. She is part of the supernatural world. A shifter, who can turn into a wolf. A strong, powerful creature.” “Stop it!” Stacy gasped, her breath hitching violently. “Just stop it!”

L A U R A It was the third night of my arrival as Damian’s new neighbor and worst nightmare. For years, I'd been Mrs. Moretti. I'd used the opportunity, the paparazzi, the lonely nights in a cold mansion in Italy. I was owed this. I was owed the respect, the status, the life that came with being married to Damian Moretti. And that little tramp, Bianca Salvatore, thought she could just waltz in and take it all away from me.

“Lia! You made it. Come, meet some people.” He introduced her to a few faces: a bookie, a money launderer, a soldier with knuckles like worn stone. She made small talk in smooth Italian, laughing at the right moments, her eyes constantly mapping the room. And then she saw him. Dante Moretti sat in a corner booth, a king holding court in the shadows. He was younger than she expected from the grainy surveillance photos, maybe mid-thirties. He wore a simple, exquisitely cut navy suit, no flashy jewelry. He wasn’t the largest man in the room, but he commanded its gravity. He listened to an older capo speak, his head tilted slightly, his expression one of polite, chilling attention. Then, as if s

"I know, but Damon…" My mother had suddenly appeared at the door, attracted by the brewing noise; her eyes had grown wide as she spotted Damon and Cassandra half-naked. "What is the meaning of this, Damon? Annie, why are you sobbing?" Cassandra seized the opportunity. She pointed at the pizza I mistakenly spilled on the floor. "Look, Mrs. Scarlett! Your ‘precious’ daughter tried to sneak in and attack Damon! She's trying to get obsessed with him! She doesn't want to accept that the Alpha already chose me. Your daughter keeps doing crazy things even when I'm the true Luna. I have been waiting for this poor thing of yours to leave him for me!"

The connected call only carried the sounds of Jaime Walter and Derek Surrey’s pleasure. She did not seem to hear what I said. After an impatient click of her tongue, she hung up. I lowered my arms and stared at my mother’s decomposed body. My strength felt completely drained. Derek then sent me a series of messages. When I opened them, I saw videos of the two of them having sex that night. Their intimate sounds filled the room. Derek smiled in the video and asked Jaime, “You really are not giving him the miracle drug?”

No stage makeup, no heavy lighting, just raw, striking beauty. "Go on," I muttered, my eyes scanning the text beneath her photograph. "She’s twenty-four, works multiple dead-end jobs to get by. But the most notable piece of information, Boss... is her connection to the Moretti family. Specifically, Lorenzo Moretti." My hand froze over the page. I snapped my gaze up to Cain, my eyes narrowing. "Moretti? What the hell does a bottom-feeding usher have to do with that snake?" "She doesn't just have a connection to him, Boss. She is scheduled to marry him next week."

Stacy sat on a metal chair near the reception area. Her brown eyes were a bit red from all the crying she had done in the past few days. She had always taken pride in the fact that she never made wrong decisions in her life but now she could no longer claim that. She was wearing a fitted white skirt suit and her blonde hair was in a neat bun. She should have felt confident but as she sat there waiting for Jonathan to come she couldn’t help but feel nervous.