Chapter 5 - THE NAME BENEATH THE SIGNATURE|
Richard Bellini had built his reputation on three things.
Money.
Influence.
And the belief that nobody in Chicago could touch him.
At least that was what I'd heard from the staff whenever his name came up.
He owned hotels, redevelopment properties, and several construction companies.
He attended charity galas.
He donated to hospital foundations.
And his daughter had nearly married Luca Moretti.
But the letter in my hands suggested that the man everybody knew might have been living under a stolen name.
Luca stood beside his mother's empty desk.
“Read the rest,” he said.
I looked down.
Giovanni's handwriting was uneven near the bottom.
It looked as though he'd been rushing.
The man calling himself Richard Bellini began using that identity after the warehouse investigation twenty-five years ago.
His former name was Daniel Voss.
I know because I saw the original records myself.
If he ever gains control of the Addison trust, he will be able to destroy the last documents connecting him to the fire.
I stopped.
Luca held out his hand.
I returned the letter.
He read the remaining lines himself.
Then he sat slowly in the chair.
For several seconds, the room was silent.
Finally, he whispered, “Daniel Voss.”
I recognized the name from nowhere.
But Luca clearly did.
“You've heard of him?” I asked.
He nodded.
“When I was seventeen, my father warned me never to do business with a man named Voss.”
“Why?”
“He said Voss was responsible for ruining honest families.”
Luca looked down at the letter.
“I assumed he was talking about some old business dispute.”
“What happened to him?”
“Officially, Daniel Voss disappeared after the warehouse fire.”
I felt cold.
“And Richard Bellini appeared?”
“A few years later.”
He reached for his phone.
Within minutes, Dominic was on his way to the mansion.
Luca asked him to bring a specialist who could examine the memory card without altering its contents.
Then he called Michael.
His brother didn't answer.
He called again.
Nothing.
On the third attempt, Michael picked up.
“What?”
Luca's voice was controlled.
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Stay there.”
“Luca—”
“We found Dad's letter.”
Silence.
Then Michael whispered, “What letter?”
“The one identifying Richard Bellini as Daniel Voss.”
I heard a faint movement through the speaker.
“Luca, don't say that name over the phone.”
“Why not?”
“Because Richard has spent twenty-five years making sure nobody connects those identities.”
“Did you know?”
Michael didn't answer.
Luca closed his eyes.
“Michael.”
“Yes.”
One word.
Twenty-five years of deception.
And another piece of the family broke.
“Come to the mansion,” Luca said.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Michael's voice trembled.
“Because Nora called me.”
Luca stood.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“What did she say?”
Michael inhaled shakily.
“She said Elena is missing.”
My heart dropped.
“And?”
“She said Richard's men took her.”
I covered my mouth.
Luca gripped the phone.
“Where's Nora now?”
“She wouldn't tell me.”
“Then give me her number.”
Michael hesitated.
“Luca—”
“Now.”
He gave it.
Luca wrote it down.
Then Michael said something that made him freeze.
“She also told me to stay away from Vanessa.”
Luca looked toward the doorway.
“Why?”
Michael's voice became barely audible.
“Because Vanessa told Richard where Elena was hiding.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
Luca ended the call and immediately dialed Nora.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a young woman's voice answered.
“Who is this?”
“Nora?”
Silence.
“My name is Luca Moretti.”
The line went quiet.
Then she whispered, “I know who you are.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“I'm your uncle.”
“I know.”
It was such a simple exchange.
But I watched his expression soften in a way I'd never seen before.
He sat down.
“Nora, are you safe?”
A pause.
“For now.”
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Your grandmother is worried.”
That changed something.
“Is she okay?”
Luca looked toward the empty bedroom.
“She will be.”
“Did they make her leave?”
His eyes closed again.
“Yes.”
Nora made a small sound.
“I tried to warn her.”
“I know.”
“I didn't think they'd actually do it.”
Luca stared at the floor.
“Neither did I.”
Then Nora asked, “Is Hannah Collins there?”
I stepped closer.
“Yes,” I said.
There was a long silence.
Then Nora began crying.
“I'm sorry.”
I swallowed.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I saw them following you.”
My heart pounded.
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
I thought of walking from the bus stop to the mansion.
Of the black sedan I'd noticed across the street.
Of the strange feeling that somebody had been watching me.
“What were they doing?”
“They thought you had something my mother hid.”
“What?”
“A notebook.”
I looked at Luca.
“What notebook?”
Nora took a shaky breath.
“My mother found old payment records from the warehouse fire.”
“Where?”
“In a box my grandfather kept.”
I looked toward the empty floor in the little house.
“The hidden compartment.”
“Yes.”
“But someone searched it.”
“They were too late.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Nora, where are those records?”
A pause.
“I left them with someone.”
“Who?”
Nora's voice trembled.
“Someone I thought I could trust.”
Luca waited.
Then she whispered, “Vanessa.”
The silence was unbearable.
I stared at the phone.
Nora continued.
“She came to see me three months ago.”
Luca's face hardened.
“She said she wanted to help.”
“What did she promise?”
“That she'd tell you the truth about our family.”
I felt sick.
Nora sniffed.
“She said you were different from Michael.”
Luca said nothing.
“She said you would protect my mother if I gave her the evidence.”
“And you believed her?”
Nora's voice broke.
“Yes.”
There was no judgment in Luca's expression.
Only sadness.
“I'm sorry she lied to you.”
Nora began crying harder.
“I was tired of being a secret.”
The words seemed to pierce him.
He gripped the edge of the desk.
“You shouldn't have had to be one.”
Nobody spoke.
Then he said, “Nora, listen to me.”
She sniffed.
“I'm listening.”
“You don't have to prove you belong to this family.”
I watched his eyes fill.
“You already do.”
Nora began sobbing.
For a moment, all I could hear was her breathing.
Then she whispered, “My mother said you were like your grandfather.”
Luca smiled sadly.
“She probably meant my father.”
“No.”
Nora took a breath.
“She meant Giovanni's father.”
Luca looked confused.
“She met my grandfather?”
“Mom has the old family journals.”
Another secret.
Another piece of history Luca had never been shown.
Then Nora whispered, “He helped my grandfather after the fire.”
Luca frowned.
“Nora, your grandfather died in that fire.”
“No,” she said.
“He didn't.”
I felt my stomach drop.
Luca went completely still.
“What?”
Nora's voice trembled.
“My grandfather survived.”
Luca stared at the photograph of Giovanni.
“But everyone believed he died.”
“I know.”
“Where has he been?”
Nora hesitated.
Then she whispered, “Hiding from Richard.”
Luca's expression changed.
“For twenty-five years?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Nora didn't answer immediately.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.
“That's why Richard wants Grandma Teresa declared incompetent.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“What does my mother have to do with your grandfather?”
Nora inhaled shakily.
“Because she's the only person still alive who knows where he's been living.”
I looked around Teresa's empty bedroom.
The missing furniture.
The blanket.
The threats.
The supposed inspection.
Everything had seemed designed to remove an old woman from her home.
But now I understood something worse.
They hadn't simply wanted Teresa out.
They wanted her isolated.
Without a trusted caregiver.
Without her son.
Without anyone who might listen when she tried to tell the truth.
“Nora,” Luca said, “where can I find your mother?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you have anything that could help us?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“A photograph of the vehicle that took her.”
Luca looked toward me.
“Send it.”
“I will.”
“Can we meet somewhere safe?”
Nora was quiet.
Then she asked, “Will Hannah come?”
I looked at Luca.
He nodded.
“Yes.”
Nora gave a shaky breath.
“Then I'll meet you.”
“Where?”
“The place Grandpa Giovanni used to take me on Sundays.”
Luca frowned.
“Nora, I don't know where that is.”
She sounded surprised.
“He never told you?”
“No.”
“Lincoln Park.”
Luca glanced at me.
“Where in Lincoln Park?”
“The little café across from the conservatory.”
He nodded.
“When?”
“Eleven.”
“We'll be there.”
Then Nora whispered, “Uncle Luca?”
He stopped breathing for a second.
It was the first time she'd called him that.
“Yes?”
“Please don't bring Michael.”
Luca's expression tightened.
“Why?”
Her answer was so quiet I almost missed it.
“Because I think my father helped them take Mom.”
May you like
The call ended.
And Luca stared at the phone as though it had become something he no longer knew how to hold.
