Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO EXIST|
“Who are you both so desperate to keep me from finding?”
Luca Moretti's question hung over the dining room like a warning nobody dared answer.
Michael stood motionless in the doorway.
Vanessa's fingers tightened around the back of a gold dining chair.
And Teresa Moretti, the woman who had spent most of her life holding this family together, began shaking so badly that I had to steady her glass.
“Mom,” Luca said quietly, “I need you to tell me the truth.”
Teresa looked toward Michael.
“Your father made me promise.”
“Dad has been gone for eight years.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“Then whatever he was protecting shouldn't be hurting you anymore.”
Michael finally stepped forward.
“Luca, this conversation doesn't belong in front of thirty-six dinner guests.”
Luca turned toward him.
“You should have thought about that before you threatened my mother's caregiver.”
A murmur moved through the room.
Michael's face hardened.
“That's not what happened.”
“Then explain what happened.”
“Mom has been confused lately.”
I felt Teresa's hand tighten around mine.
She wasn't confused.
I'd spent eleven months serving her breakfast, arranging her medication reminders, listening to stories about her husband, and helping her write birthday cards for relatives she hadn't seen in years.
She remembered every birthday.
Every anniversary.
Every neighbor who had brought her soup after her husband's funeral.
And every detail of the bedroom somebody had taken away from her.
“Mrs. Moretti knows exactly what happened,” I said.
Michael looked at me.
“Nobody asked you, Hannah.”
Luca took one step toward his brother.
“I did.”
Those two words silenced him.
For the first time since I'd started working at the mansion, I saw the difference between the two Moretti brothers clearly.
Michael used his family's name to make people afraid.
Luca didn't need to mention his name at all.
“Tell me about West Addison,” Luca said.
Michael adjusted his cuffs.
“It's an old property Dad kept as an investment.”
“Mom says we never sold it.”
“We didn't.”
“You told me we did.”
“That was years ago.”
“Twenty years ago.”
Michael looked away.
Luca's voice remained controlled.
“Who lives there?”
Vanessa stepped between them.
“Darling, perhaps we should continue this privately.”
“Move, Vanessa.”
Her expression changed.
“Excuse me?”
“I said move.”
She stepped aside.
Michael gave a tired sigh.
“A woman lives there.”
“What woman?”
“Her name is Elena Salazar.”
Teresa closed her eyes.
I felt the name travel through her like a memory she had tried to bury.
Luca frowned.
“Who is Elena Salazar?”
Michael didn't answer.
His mother did.
“The mother of your niece.”
I heard someone gasp behind me.
Luca stared at Teresa.
“My niece?”
She nodded.
Michael's face turned pale.
“Mom, don't.”
But Teresa raised her chin.
“Her name is Nora.”
Luca looked back at his brother.
“You have a daughter?”
Michael swallowed.
“Yes.”
“How old?”
“Twenty-four.”
For several seconds, Luca said nothing.
Then he asked a question that made my stomach twist.
“And you never thought I should know?”
Michael's eyes flashed.
“It wasn't that simple.”
“Twenty-four years isn't simple?”
“You don't understand what happened.”
“Then help me understand.”
Michael glanced at Vanessa.
That single movement told me something important.
Whatever secret he had been protecting, Vanessa knew more about it than she should.
Teresa reached for the blue blanket and pulled it tightly around her shoulders.
“Giovanni knew about Nora,” she whispered.
Luca looked at her.
“Dad knew?”
“He met her when she was three.”
The room seemed to tilt.
I watched Luca's expression change from disbelief to something deeper.
His father had known about a granddaughter.
His mother had known.
His brother had known.
And somehow, the man everybody called the most powerful member of the family had been the last person to learn she existed.
“Why didn't Dad tell me?” Luca asked.
Teresa's eyes filled.
“Because Michael begged him not to.”
Michael stepped closer.
“Enough.”
“No,” Teresa said.
Her voice was weak, but something had changed.
For the first time all evening, she wasn't apologizing.
“Your father bought that house so Elena and Nora would always have somewhere safe to live.”
Luca looked at his brother.
“Safe from what?”
Michael's expression went blank.
“That's ancient history.”
“Safe from what, Michael?”
Vanessa touched his sleeve.
“Don't answer that.”
Luca noticed.
And so did I.
He turned toward her.
“Why are you giving my brother instructions?”
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“Because you're turning a family misunderstanding into a public spectacle.”
Luca stared at her.
“Did you know about Nora?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“A few months.”
“Did you know my mother was being threatened?”
“No.”
Teresa made a small sound.
I looked down.
She was shaking her head.
“Mrs. Moretti?” I whispered.
She leaned toward me.
“Hannah, ask her about the papers.”
I felt a cold sensation move through my chest.
“What papers?”
Teresa looked directly at Vanessa.
“The ones you brought to my room on Tuesday.”
Vanessa's face changed.
“That was a routine authorization.”
“What authorization?” Luca asked.
Vanessa didn't answer.
Teresa's voice trembled.
“She wanted me to sign away the little house.”
The silence became unbearable.
Luca looked toward his brother.
“Michael?”
Michael rubbed his forehead.
“It's a complicated ownership arrangement.”
“Is Mom the owner?”
“Technically.”
“That's a yes or no question.”
Michael didn't respond.
Teresa reached into the folds of her blanket.
For one terrible moment, I thought she might faint.
Instead, she pulled out a folded envelope.
Its edges were soft and worn.
On the front, written in careful handwriting, were four words.
For Luca, when necessary.
I recognized the handwriting.
I'd seen it on the birthday cards Teresa kept from her late husband.
Giovanni Moretti.
Luca stared at the envelope.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your father left it with me.”
“Why haven't you shown me before?”
Teresa began crying.
“Because I kept hoping Michael would tell you himself.”
Michael reached toward her.
“Mom, give me that.”
She pulled away.
Luca stepped between them.
“Don't touch it.”
My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it.
Teresa placed the envelope in Luca's hand.
“Your father told me that if anyone tried to take that house away from Nora, you were the only person I could trust to stop them.”
Luca opened it slowly.
Inside was a photograph.
A little girl stood on the front steps of a brick house.
Her dark curls were tied back with a yellow ribbon.
Beside her stood an older man with a broad smile and tired eyes.
Giovanni Moretti.
Luca's father.
On the back of the photograph was a date.
October 14, 2006.
And beneath it, a sentence.
She is family, whether the world knows it or not.
Luca held the photograph for a long time.
Then he unfolded the second sheet.
I watched his eyes move across the page.
His jaw tightened.
He read the final paragraph twice.
Then he looked at Michael.
“Dad put the house into a trust.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“For Nora.”
“Yes.”
“With Mom acting as trustee until Nora turns twenty-five.”
“Yes.”
Luca looked at the date written near the bottom.
“Her birthday is next month.”
Nobody answered.
“Which means control of the property transfers to Nora in less than thirty days.”
Michael looked toward Vanessa.
And suddenly I understood why Friday mattered.
Whatever they were planning had to happen before Nora became the legal beneficiary entitled to take control under the trust's terms.
Luca turned the page over.
“Where's the complete trust agreement?”
Michael swallowed.
“Locked away.”
“Where?”
“At the office.”
“Bring it to me.”
“I can't.”
Luca lowered the paper.
“Why not?”
Michael's voice was barely audible.
“Because Vanessa's father already has it.”
Vanessa stepped backward.
Luca looked at her.
“Your father?”
She said nothing.
“Why does Richard Bellini have my family's legal documents?”
Michael finally raised his eyes.
“Because he says that house belongs to him.”
Teresa started crying again.
I bent beside her.
“Mrs. Moretti, you're all right.”
She caught my wrist.
“No, Hannah.”
Her eyes were filled with terror.
“You don't understand.”
I leaned closer.
“What don't I understand?”
She looked at the photograph.
Then at her son.
“Giovanni didn't buy that house because he wanted another investment.”
Luca knelt in front of her.
“Then why?”
Teresa's voice became a whisper.
“Because twenty-five years ago, Richard Bellini helped destroy Elena's family.”
Vanessa snapped, “That's a lie!”
Teresa flinched.
Luca stood.
“Don't raise your voice at my mother again.”
Vanessa's lips parted.
But no words came.
Michael looked toward the dining room doors.
I followed his gaze.
Two men in dark suits had appeared beside the entrance.
I'd seen them earlier that evening.
They weren't guests.
They had been standing near the kitchen hallway, watching the staff.
And now one of them was speaking into his phone.
Luca noticed them too.
“Who are those men?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“Security.”
“Mine?”
“Additional personnel.”
“Who hired them?”
She looked away.
Luca turned toward his head of security, Dominic Hayes, who had just entered from the terrace.
“Dom, I want every member of Bellini's private security off my property.”
Dominic nodded.
“Understood.”
Michael suddenly reached for Luca's arm.
“Wait.”
“What?”
His brother's face had changed completely.
The arrogance was gone.
So was the anger.
For the first time, Michael looked genuinely frightened.
“If Richard finds out you know about Nora, he'll go to the house tonight.”
Luca stared at him.
“Why?”
Michael swallowed.
“Because there's something inside that house he cannot afford to let you see.”
My fingers tightened around Teresa's chair.
Luca looked at Dominic.
“Get the cars.”
Then he turned toward me.
“Hannah, stay with my mother.”
I nodded.
But Teresa suddenly stood.
Her knees nearly buckled.
“Luca, no.”
He caught her.
“Mom, sit down.”
“Please don't go there alone.”
“I'm not going alone.”
She shook her head.
“You don't understand.”
He crouched beside her.
“Then tell me.”
Teresa placed both hands against his face.
“The last time your father went to that house, he came home crying.”
Luca stopped moving.
Teresa's voice broke.
“He told me that if Richard Bellini ever discovered what was hidden beneath the kitchen floor, someone would die trying to keep it secret.”
And that's when Michael whispered the words that changed everything.
“Dad didn't die from his heart condition, Luca.”
Nobody breathed.
May you like
Michael looked at the photograph in his brother's hand.
“He died because he found out what Richard had done.”
