Chapter 4 - The Father Who Never Died
We moved the entire family to my most secure property outside Manhattan.
The house was surrounded by private land and guarded by men I trusted.
But that night, security didn't make me feel safe.
For the first time in my life, the enemy knew something I didn't.
Luciano Moretti was alive.
He was Emma's biological father.
And he had been manipulating people from the shadows.
Sophia sat in the library holding a cup of tea.
She hadn't touched it.
Emma was asleep upstairs.
My mother sat across from her.
Marco stood by the fireplace.
I entered with the photograph.
Sophia looked at me.
“What did Matteo mean when he said Luciano was coming?”
“I don't know.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“Find him.”
She stared at the photograph.
“I don't want Emma anywhere near him.”
“That won't happen.”
“You don't understand.”
Her voice cracked.
“Daniel died trying to protect her.”
I sat across from her.
“Tell me what happened.”
Sophia finally agreed.
Daniel had discovered the financial transfers four years earlier.
He realized Matteo was moving assets through companies connected to the fertility clinic.
At first, he believed it was simple fraud.
Then he found Luciano's name.
Luciano was alive.
Daniel confronted him.
Luciano denied everything.
But two weeks later, Daniel was hit by a vehicle.
Before he died, he managed to call Sophia.
“Don't trust Matteo.”
That was all he said.
Sophia had taken Emma and disappeared.
For almost two years, she worked at my house.
She had never told me the truth because she feared I would assume she was using Emma to get close to the Moretti fortune.
I looked at her.
“You should have told me.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“Yes.”
That hurt.
Not because I was offended.
Because I understood.
I had built a reputation that taught innocent people to fear me too.
I looked toward the staircase.
“Emma doesn't fear me.”
“She shouldn't.”
“She walked into my wedding and accused my bride.”
Sophia smiled faintly.
“Emma notices everything.”
“So I learned.”
We were interrupted by Marco.
“We found Isabella.”
I stood.
“Where?”
“An underground parking garage.”
“Bring her.”
Isabella arrived an hour later.
Her wedding dress was covered in dirt.
Her makeup was ruined.
She looked exhausted.
She sat in front of me.
“I know you hate me.”
“I don't know what I feel.”
“I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
She took a breath.
“Matteo approached me eight months ago.”
“To marry me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said if I became your wife, he'd make sure I never had to worry about my father's medical debts again.”
“Did you want my money?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“My father was dying.”
I said nothing.
“He owed Matteo money.”
I looked at her.
“Matteo used your father.”
“Yes.”
“And you agreed.”
“I thought I could control it.”
“You couldn't.”
“No.”
She looked down.
“I fell in love with you.”
I stayed silent.
“That made everything worse.”
She had planned to use the marriage to gain legal access.
Then she started questioning Matteo.
Then she secretly recorded him.
The footage we had seen hadn't been the only recording.
She had more.
She handed Marco a device.
“Everything is there.”
We watched.
Matteo spoke with several men.
Then another person entered.
The face was hidden.
But the voice wasn't.
Luciano.
He told Matteo exactly what to do.
“Alessandro is too loyal to the family.”
Matteo asked, “And the girl?”
“Emma is the key.”
“What if Alessandro protects her?”
“Then make him believe she belongs to someone else.”
I paused the recording.
“Someone else?”
Isabella nodded.
“There was another man.”
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
The recording resumed.
Luciano said:
“Once the wedding happens, Alessandro will transfer the holdings. After that, Emma will disappear.”
I looked at Isabella.
“Why didn't you bring me this?”
“Because I was terrified.”
“Of Luciano?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He showed me photographs of people who disappeared.”
She began crying.
“I knew I had made a terrible mistake.”
I believed that she regretted it.
But regret didn't erase betrayal.
I stood.
“You're not going anywhere.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
My mother entered.
“We have another problem.”
“What?”
She held a letter.
“It arrived at the front door.”
No stamp.
No fingerprints.
Inside was one sentence.
Bring Emma to the old Moretti theater at midnight.
Or the truth about her father will be broadcast to every news station in New York.
I stared at it.
Luciano wanted publicity.
That wasn't like him.
He preferred secrets.
Unless he wanted to force me into a public move.
I called Marco.
“Get the theater surrounded.”
“No police?”
“Not yet.”
At midnight, we entered the theater.
The stage was empty.
Rows of seats disappeared into darkness.
Emma stayed in the armored vehicle outside with Sophia and three guards.
I refused to bring her inside.
A spotlight came on.
A man stood on stage.
He looked older.
Gray hair.
Same dark eyes.
Same jaw.
I knew immediately.
Luciano.
My cousin.
The man who was supposed to be dead.
He smiled.
“Alessandro.”
I walked forward.
“You've been hiding for twenty years.”
“I've been preparing.”
“For what?”
“For her.”
He pointed toward the entrance.
Sophia stepped out.
“No!”
I turned.
She had entered despite my orders.
Luciano smiled.
“You see?”
He looked at her.
“She always was brave.”
“Where is Emma?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
Luciano reached into his pocket.
He pulled out an old photograph.
It showed Sophia holding baby Emma.
Behind her stood Daniel.
And behind Daniel stood Luciano.
A family photograph.
“Daniel knew,” Luciano said.
“Knew what?”
“That Emma was my daughter.”
Sophia shook her head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Luciano looked at her.
“He loved her anyway.”
I raised my weapon.
“Take one more step and this ends.”
He laughed.
“You won't shoot me.”
“Try me.”
Then he said something that stopped me.
“Your father didn't just hide me.”
I stared.
“He protected me.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew I wasn't the enemy.”
I lowered the gun slightly.
“What are you saying?”
“Matteo is.”
“He worked for you.”
“No.”
Luciano shook his head.
“He thought he worked for me.”
My mind raced.
“Then who does Matteo work for?”
Luciano's smile vanished.
“That is the question you should have asked from the beginning.”
The theater lights came on.
Every wall screen displayed one photograph.
My father.
Matteo.
Luciano.
Daniel.
Sophia.
And one final person.
My mother.
I turned.
She had gone pale.
Luciano spoke quietly.
“She knows.”
May you like
My mother closed her eyes.
“I've been waiting twenty years for someone to finally ask.”
