Chapter 3 - Bianca Discovered Her Father Had Left Her a Fortune, a Secret Identity, and One Warning About the Man She Was Falling For
The next morning, Bianca called her lawyer.
She had only one.
A local attorney who had handled Petal & Pine's contracts.
He arrived at the mansion looking terrified.
Dante noticed.
“You're afraid of me.”
The lawyer swallowed.
“A little.”
“Good.”
Bianca glared.
“Dante.”
He smiled.
“I'm kidding.”
The lawyer looked even more frightened.
Bianca sighed.
“Mr. Grant, please explain the Bennett trust.”
He opened his briefcase.
“This is complicated.”
“That word doesn't comfort me.”
“It shouldn't.”
He placed documents on the table.
“Your grandfather established a private trust with Dante's grandfather.”
“And?”
“Your father was the final beneficiary.”
“Why?”
“Because he was expected to manage the family holdings.”
“Expected?”
“He refused.”
Bianca frowned.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted out.”
Dante listened.
“Out of what?”
“The network.”
Bianca looked at him.
“What network?”
Grant hesitated.
“The organization.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“What organization?”
Grant looked at Bianca.
“I cannot discuss details without—”
Dante interrupted.
“Discuss them.”
Grant took a breath.
“The trust controlled assets connected to both families.”
“Legal assets?”
“Some.”
“Illegal?”
“Yes.”
Bianca closed her eyes.
“My father was involved.”
“Yes.”
Dante asked:
“Did he steal?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“He hid the assets.”
“Where?”
Grant looked at Bianca.
“With her.”
Silence.
Bianca's heart stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“Your father moved the controlling documents under a secondary identity.”
“What identity?”
Grant handed her a birth certificate.
The name was not Bianca Bennett.
It was Beatrice Bennett Moretti.
She stared.
“What?”
Dante went still.
“Moretti?”
Grant nodded.
“Your grandfather adopted a second surname for legal purposes.”
Bianca laughed nervously.
“You're telling me I'm a Moretti?”
“Legally, yes.”
Dante stared at her.
She looked at him.
“This is ridiculous.”
“I agree.”
Grant continued.
“There is one important clause.”
“What?”
“If the Bennett heir marries into the Moretti family, the trust becomes permanent.”
Bianca's stomach dropped.
She looked at Dante.
“You've got to be kidding.”
Dante was silent.
“You didn't know.”
“No.”
“You swear?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
They both understood.
Their relationship had begun twelve months ago.
No one had known this.
Not even them.
But someone else had.
Someone had watched.
Someone had waited.
The clause explained why people were interested.
The trust had been designed around the union of their families.
Bianca stood.
“I need air.”
Dante followed.
She walked onto the terrace.
He stayed several feet away.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
“I need space.”
“Okay.”
She looked at the city.
“Did you ever wonder why you kept ordering flowers from me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they were good.”
She smiled sadly.
“That's not the whole reason.”
“No.”
“What was the whole reason?”
He stepped closer.
“Because when you entered the room, I stopped thinking about everything else.”
She looked at him.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It was.”
Then her phone rang.
A number she didn't recognize.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice.
“Your father lied about the money.”
Bianca froze.
“What?”
“He left something else.”
“What?”
“The truth.”
The call ended.
She looked at Dante.
He had heard.
“Trace it.”
Marcus did.
The number led nowhere.
Then an email arrived.
A video.
Bianca pressed play.
Her father appeared.
Older.
Tired.
Alive?
She gasped.
“Dad?”
He looked directly into the camera.
“If you're seeing this, I'm probably dead.”
She cried.
“I need you to listen carefully.”
He continued.
“Dante Moretti isn't your enemy.”
Dante stared.
“Trust him.”
The video glitched.
Then her father said something that made her freeze.
“Your mother is alive.”
The screen went black.
Bianca stopped breathing.
“My mother?”
Dante looked at her.
“Your father said she's alive.”
She nodded.
“But that's impossible.”
“Why?”
“She died when I was eight.”
“Did you see her body?”
Bianca couldn't answer.
“No.”
Dante's eyes hardened.
“Then maybe she didn't.”
They searched.
Hospital records.
Death certificates.
Old insurance files.
Nothing.
Then Marcus found a photograph.
A woman outside a bakery.
Same face.
Twenty years older.
Bianca recognized her immediately.
Her mother.
Dante looked at the address.
“Where is this?”
“Milwaukee.”
Bianca stood.
“I'm going.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“No?”
“Not without security.”
“I don't need an army.”
“You need one.”
She sighed.
“Fine.”
They left that afternoon.
But when they arrived, the woman was gone.
The bakery was empty.
A note sat on the counter.
Too late.
Under it:
Ask Dante why his mother helped me disappear.
Bianca turned.
May you like
Dante had gone pale.
---
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