Chapter 2 - The Name Hidden Beneath the MedallionDominic spent the next six hours tearing through every record his family had.
Birth records.
Hospital files.
Travel manifests.
Old photographs.
Bank transfers.
Private investigators.
Sophia Carter had vanished ten years earlier.
Every trace of her disappeared three months before Ethan's birth.
That was what the official records said.
The truth was different.
Dominic found an old medical invoice.
Sophia.
Eight months pregnant.
At a private clinic in Queens.
The appointment date was three weeks before she disappeared.
The father section had been marked:
UNKNOWN.
Dominic stared at it.
He knew it was a lie.
He remembered that winter.
He and Sophia had been planning to leave New York.
They were going to Boston.
He had promised her a normal life.
No Moretti business.
No weapons.
No family wars.
They were supposed to leave on March 22.
She disappeared on March 19.
Three days before they planned to run.
Dominic had spent years believing she had left him.
Now he realized she may have been taken.
Elena entered his study.
She was pale.
“You found something.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You own a medallion.”
Silence.
Elena closed the door.
“How long have you known?”
“About what?”
“The Moretti crest.”
Elena sighed.
“Six years.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you were in danger.”
Dominic stood.
“Where is it?”
She reached into her bag.
A silver medallion.
Identical to Ethan's.
Dominic stared.
“Why do you have it?”
“Because Sophia gave it to me.”
His heart stopped.
“When?”
“Two weeks before she disappeared.”
“Why?”
“She told me to protect her son.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“Her son?”
Elena nodded.
“She never told me his name.”
“You knew she had a child.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Elena?”
She took a breath.
“Your father.”
Dominic's face hardened.
“My father died before Sophia disappeared.”
“Not before she became pregnant.”
Dominic froze.
“What are you saying?”
Elena handed him a photograph.
It showed Sophia.
Pregnant.
Standing beside Dominic's father, Vittorio Moretti.
Dominic stared.
The photograph had been taken ten years ago.
His father was smiling.
Sophia wasn't.
Dominic looked at Elena.
“Why was she with him?”
“He found out about the baby.”
“His grandchild?”
“No.”
Elena lowered her voice.
“He didn't think the child was yours.”
Dominic felt the room tilt.
“Whose was it?”
Elena hesitated.
“Your father's.”
Silence.
The words didn't make sense.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Dominic laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because some truths were too monstrous for the mind to accept immediately.
“You're telling me Sophia had a child with my father?”
“No.”
Elena shook her head.
“I'm telling you your father believed that.”
Dominic stared.
“And he tried to take the child.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he believed the child would inherit everything.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“My father would never—”
“He did.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was there.”
Elena told him the story.
Sophia had been pregnant.
She had tried to leave Dominic.
Not because she stopped loving him.
Because Vittorio threatened to kill Dominic if she didn't disappear.
She agreed.
But she refused to give him the baby.
So Vittorio created a different story.
He told Dominic that Sophia had abandoned him.
Then he paid doctors to falsify records.
He moved Sophia to another location.
And when she gave birth, someone else took the baby.
Dominic stared at the medallion.
“What happened to Sophia?”
Elena's eyes filled.
“She died.”
He stopped.
“When?”
“Ten years ago.”
“Where?”
“A safe house in Pennsylvania.”
Dominic's chest tightened.
“Who killed her?”
Elena looked toward the window.
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
She shook her head.
“I know who ordered it.”
“Who?”
Elena whispered:
“Vittorio.”
Dominic's father had been dead for nine years.
If Elena was telling the truth, Sophia had been murdered.
And Ethan had survived.
But there was one problem.
Dominic looked at the photograph.
Sophia was wearing a medallion.
The exact medallion Ethan had.
He turned it over.
The initials were different.
S.C.
Elena's wasn't.
Hers had only the Moretti crest.
“What does this mean?”
Elena said:
“It's not jewelry.”
“What is it?”
“A key.”
Dominic stared.
“To what?”
“A vault.”
“Where?”
“In the Moretti family cemetery.”
That night, Dominic went there alone.
He found the old mausoleum.
Behind Vittorio's tomb was a stone panel.
The medallion fit perfectly.
A hidden drawer opened.
Inside was a small metal box.
Dominic opened it.
A cassette.
Three photographs.
And a letter.
His hands shook as he unfolded it.
Dominic,
If you find this, then my son is alive.
Dominic stopped breathing.
You must understand that he was never the danger.
He was the reason they were afraid.
Because he is the legal heir to something your family has hidden for generations.
Dominic read the next line.
His name is not Ethan Carter.
He looked at the photograph.
A baby.
Wrapped in a white blanket.
Around his neck was the medallion.
The final sentence broke him.
His true name is Ethan Moretti.
Dominic sat on the cold stone floor.
His son had called Ethan his brother because he was his brother.
Not because of dreams.
Not because of a child's imagination.
Because they shared blood.
But the letter continued.
There is one more secret.
Ethan was not the only child taken from Sophia.
Dominic stared.
There were two baby photographs.
Twins.
One was Ethan.
The other had a small birthmark shaped like a crescent moon.
A girl.
Dominic whispered:
“Where is she?”
A voice answered behind him.
“You already know.”
He turned.
Mara Cole stood in the doorway.
“You've met her.”
Dominic's face went cold.
“Who?”
Mara held up another photograph.
A little girl.
Five years old.
Standing beside Luca.
Dominic stared.
His own son.
And the girl.
They looked almost identical.
May you like
Mara whispered:
“Luca has a sister too.”
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