Chapter 3 - The Six-Year-Old Heir Became the Most Wanted Child in BostonAfter the hospital attack, I moved Sofia and Emma to Blackwood Estate.
My mansion.
The place where I had spent years creating a fortress around myself.
Now a six-year-old girl was running through its halls.
She hated the marble.
She loved the kitchen.
She liked Harold.
She was terrified of the security guards.
And she kept asking whether she could wear the cleaning apron again.
“Why?” I asked.
“Mommy says I look serious.”
I laughed.
“Your mother was always strange.”
Emma smiled.
“I like strange.”
I watched her.
She had Sofia's smile.
My stubbornness.
It was almost cruel how obvious it was.
I hired a private doctor.
A tutor.
A nanny.
Emma rejected all of them.
She wanted Sofia.
She wanted me.
She wanted pancakes.
Life had suddenly become painfully ordinary.
Until Vincent found another clue.
The Moretti trust wasn't only financial.
It included a list of names.
Every person who had ever participated in the family's criminal operations.
Judges.
Politicians.
Police chiefs.
Business leaders.
And one name appeared at the top.
Anthony Moretti.
My uncle.
Beneath it:
Current controller.
I stared.
“How?”
Vincent shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Find out.”
He nodded.
Then I heard Emma laughing.
She was playing with a small wooden horse.
The sound made me stop.
I hadn't heard laughter in my house in years.
My home had become silent.
She had brought noise back.
That evening, she asked me:
“Why don't you smile?”
I frowned.
“I do.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You make your mouth smile.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don't smile here.”
She touched my chest.
I smiled.
“Better?”
“Almost.”
She laughed.
Then she leaned against me.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Why didn't you come get us before?”
The question broke my heart.
“I didn't know.”
“Mommy said you tried.”
“I did.”
“Were you sad?”
“Yes.”
“How sad?”
I thought.
“Very.”
She considered it.
“I'm glad you found us.”
So was I.
Then Sofia entered.
She looked stronger.
She sat beside us.
“There is something you need to know.”
“What?”
“Emma isn't the only reason they are coming.”
“What else?”
“The trust contains a recording.”
“Of what?”
“Your father's confession.”
My chest tightened.
“What did he confess?”
“He admitted ordering a murder.”
“Whose?”
Sofia looked at me.
“Mine.”
Silence.
“What?”
“He told everyone I was dead.”
“Why?”
“To protect the empire.”
“How?”
“Because I discovered Anthony's operation.”
“What operation?”
“Children.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
“Anthony had been trafficking children through your family's shipping routes.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Money.”
“God.”
Sofia looked at Emma.
“I found the records.”
“And?”
“Your father helped me.”
“Then why did he betray you?”
“He didn't.”
“Then who did?”
“Anthony.”
I stood.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“But he knows about Emma.”
“Yes.”
“Then he will come.”
Sofia nodded.
At that moment, the house alarm sounded.
Harold ran in.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We've got movement at the north gate.”
I grabbed my gun.
“Who?”
“Unknown.”
We reached the security room.
The cameras showed a single man standing outside.
No guards.
No weapon.
Just an umbrella.
I recognized him.
Michael Moretti.
My dead cousin.
Alive.
He looked directly into the camera.
May you like
Then held up a note.
LET ME IN.
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