Chapter 11 - THE POISON IN THE INK
I stared at the heavy, cream-colored stationery resting on my bed.
The monogram at the top—an elegant gold V.B.—stared back at me like a venomous snake.
I hadn’t worn this winter coat in months. The note must have been slipped into the pocket recently, sometime before the engagement dinner, while my coat was hanging in the staff locker room.
My hands trembled as I read the elegant, looping handwriting.
Emma,By the time you read this, I will be gone. Marcus thinks he’s so smart, but he’s arrogant. He told me everything about you. He knew who you were the day you got hired. He let you work here because he thought it was funny.But he didn’t know my secret.Sofia’s child isn’t the only heir to the Moretti throne. Check the silver lining.Good luck,Vanessa.
My breath caught in my throat.
He knew who I was.
Marcus had known about my sister the entire time. He had watched me serve his drinks, clean his messes, and smile at him, knowing he had drowned Chloe. A wave of profound nausea washed over me.
But the second half of the note was even more terrifying.
Sofia’s child isn’t the only heir... Check the silver lining.
What did that mean? Vanessa didn’t have a child.
Check the silver lining.
I turned toward the closet. My eyes frantically scanned the clothes hanging there. Nothing silver.
Then, my gaze fell on the heavy silver lighter resting on my desk—the lighter Luca had cracked open in the dining room to find the brass key. He had left it here when he emptied his pockets earlier.
I rushed to the desk and picked up the antique lighter.
I flipped the lid open. I pulled the metal casing out, revealing the hollow compartment where the key had been hidden. It looked empty.
But as I peered closer, I saw that the bottom of the compartment was lined with a thin piece of foil.
A silver lining.
I grabbed a paperclip from the desk and carefully pried the foil up.
Tucked underneath was a tiny, tightly folded piece of paper. It looked like a receipt.
I unfolded it under the glow of my desk lamp.
It wasn’t a receipt.
It was a laboratory report from a private clinic in Switzerland.
Dated two weeks ago.
Patient: Vanessa Bellini.Test Results: Positive.Estimated Gestation: 8 Weeks.
I dropped the paper as if it burned my fingers.
Vanessa was pregnant.
With Luca’s child.
My mind spun out of control. Luca had just handed her over to the federal authorities. She was facing decades in prison for embezzlement, conspiracy to commit murder, and racketeering. But she was carrying a Moretti heir.
In the mafia, blood is the only currency that matters. A child changes everything. If the Commission found out Luca had a child sitting in a federal prison, it would cause a civil war.
I grabbed the lab report and sprinted out of my room.
I ran down the grand staircase and burst into Luca’s study.
He was sitting behind his massive oak desk, pouring a glass of amber scotch. He looked up, surprised by my sudden entrance.
“Emma? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I walked over to the desk, my hands shaking uncontrollably, and placed the lab report down in front of him.
“I found this hidden in Marcus’s lighter,” I breathed. “Vanessa left me a note telling me where to look. She wanted me to find it.”
Luca frowned. He picked up the paper and read it.
His face went completely pale. The glass of scotch slipped from his fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor.
“No,” Luca whispered. “No, that’s impossible.”
“It’s a Swiss clinic, sir. They don’t forge results. She’s pregnant.”
Luca stood up, pushing his chair back so violently it crashed into the wall. He paced the room, running his hands through his dark hair, looking more trapped than he had when the guns were pointed at us in the cathedral.
“She knew,” Luca realized, his voice trembling with rage. “She knew she was pregnant, and she still helped Carmine try to kill Sofia. She was trying to eliminate the only other heir so her child would inherit everything.”
“And now she’s in federal custody,” I said quietly. “If she tells the FBI she’s carrying your child, they’ll use it to leverage you. They’ll force you to dismantle your entire organization to keep your child out of the foster system.”
Luca stopped pacing. He looked at the shattered glass on the floor.
He was trapped. The woman he despised, the woman who had tried to destroy his family, was carrying his blood.
He looked at me, his eyes dark and desperate.
“What do I do, Emma?” the Don of Chicago whispered, asking a maid for the answer to an impossible problem.
Before I could answer, the heavy oak doors of the study swung open.
Standing in the doorway was Sofia.
She was wearing a soft cashmere sweater, holding little Leo on her hip. She looked at the shattered glass, then at the piece of paper on the desk.
“I heard,” Sofia said softly.
Luca looked at his sister, his face filled with shame. “Sofia, I’m so sorry.”
Sofia walked into the room. She gently set Leo down on the rug and walked over to the desk. She picked up the lab report. She read it, her face completely unreadable.
Then, she turned to the roaring fireplace against the wall.
She tossed the lab report into the flames.
Luca and I gasped as the paper instantly curled and turned to ash.
“What did you just do?!” Luca demanded.
May you like
Sofia turned around, her eyes fierce and unwavering.
“She made her choice, Luca,” Sofia said coldly. “She tried to murder your family. A child born of poison will only bring more poison. Vanessa Bellini is dead to us. That baby is not a Moretti.”
