Chapter 5 - THE WARNING FROM AUNT JUNE
The handwriting on the hospital stationery was erratic and rushed, the ink smudged in places as if the writer’s hands had been shaking—or crying.
I leaned closer to read the words.
Luca,If you are reading this, it means Frank is gone, and I didn't make it to him in time. I am so sorry. I took the bracelet from the nightstand because I know Vanessa is looking for it. It’s not just jewelry. Look at the clasp. Keep Sammy safe. Don't let her take him.—June
The silence in the waiting area was deafening.
Samuel stared at the letter, his young face completely bewildered. "I don't understand. Aunt June put it in the vault? But the ticket had Vanessa's name on it."
Luca’s mind was racing, piecing the fragments together. "Vanessa must have found the ticket in June’s purse when June came to the hospital that night. Vanessa signed her own name on the hospital registry to claim ownership of the vault space so June couldn't get it back."
"But why?" I asked, my heart pounding. "Why would Vanessa care about a silver bracelet? She has diamonds, Mr. Moretti. Why fight an old woman over a tarnished heirloom?"
Luca didn't answer immediately. He picked up the velvet box and pulled the delicate silver chain from the satin groove.
He held it up to the fluorescent hospital lights.
Look at the clasp, the letter had said.
Luca turned the small silver mechanism over in his massive fingers. He squinted. "There’s a groove here. It’s thicker than a normal clasp."
He pressed his thumbnail into a tiny seam on the side of the silver cylinder. There was a faint click, and the clasp slid open, revealing a hollowed-out center.
Inside, rolled tighter than a cigarette, was a tiny slip of micro-paper.
"Oh my god," I breathed.
Luca carefully used a pen from his pocket to slide the paper out. He unrolled it on the vinyl cushion. The text was incredibly small, typed with precision. It looked like an old banking ledger.
Luca read the tiny numbers, his face turning harder and colder by the second.
"What is it, Luca?" Samuel asked, gripping his father’s coat tightly.
"It’s an offshore account number," Luca said, his voice lethal. "And a list of wire transfers."
"Transfers to who?" I asked.
Luca looked up, his eyes burning with a rage so profound it made me shiver. "To the Bellini family. Vanessa’s father."
He stood up, pacing the small waiting area, running a hand aggressively through his dark hair.
"The Bellinis have been bankrupt for three years," Luca said, speaking fast. "Everyone in Chicago knew they were struggling, but Vanessa always claimed her father had restructured the company. She said they were fine."
He pointed at the tiny slip of paper.
"They weren't fine. They were drowning. And according to this ledger, someone has been secretly wiring millions of dollars into their accounts to keep them afloat."
"Who was sending the money?" Samuel asked.
Luca stopped pacing. He looked down at his little brother. "Dad was."
Samuel’s eyes widened. "Dad gave them money?"
"Not willingly," Luca said softly. He sat back down next to Samuel, resting his elbows on his knees. "Dad was old-school. He didn't do charity for failing businesses, especially not men like Arthur Bellini. If Dad was sending him millions of dollars, it was because he was being forced to."
I felt sick to my stomach. "Blackmail?"
Luca nodded grimly. "Vanessa targeted me. She made sure we met at that charity gala last year. She played the perfect, supportive girlfriend. But she wasn't just after my money. Her family had something on Dad. Something so dangerous he was willing to bleed his own accounts dry to keep it quiet."
"And Aunt June knew," I realized, the pieces falling into place. "That’s why Vanessa sent Samuel to live with her. It wasn't to give him stability. It was to keep Samuel out of the house while she searched for whatever proof your father had hidden."
"The bracelet," Samuel whispered, looking at the silver chain. "Dad hid the account numbers in Mom's bracelet. He knew Vanessa would never touch something so cheap."
Luca closed his eyes, the guilt washing over his face in waves. "She isolated you, Sammy. She made you think I didn't want you, all so she could tear this house apart looking for the one piece of evidence that could send her family to prison."
Samuel looked down at his hands. "She said Dad thought I was a burden."
Luca reached out and grabbed Samuel’s face gently in both hands, forcing the boy to look him in the eye.
"Listen to me," Luca said fiercely. "Dad loved you more than anything in this world. He was paying those bastards to protect you. I don't know what they threatened him with, but I know Frank Moretti. He would only pay a ransom if someone he loved was in danger."
Samuel’s eyes filled with tears, but this time, they weren't tears of rejection. They were tears of relief. The heavy, crushing weight of believing his father hadn't wanted him was finally lifting.
"We need to talk to Aunt June," I said softly. "She wrote the letter. She knows what the Bellinis were threatening your father with."
Luca stood up, his jaw set like granite. "Yeah. We do."
He carefully placed the micro-paper back into the silver clasp, closed it, and put the bracelet in his pocket. He picked up the yellow claim ticket and the brown envelope, throwing them into a nearby trash can.
We walked out of the hospital and climbed back into the SUV.
"Hannah," Luca said as he started the engine. "Call June. Tell her we're coming over."
I pulled out my phone and dialed the familiar number. Aunt June had always been kind to me when I helped Samuel pack his bags for weekend visits. I listened to the phone ring. Once. Twice. Three times.
It went to voicemail.
"She's not answering," I said, a knot forming in my throat. "I'll try her cell."
I dialed the cell number. It went straight to voicemail.
Luca put the SUV in drive and slammed on the gas. The tires squealed against the wet pavement.
"Call her neighbor," Luca ordered, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "The lady with the rose bushes. Ask her to check the house."
My hands were shaking as I found Mrs. Gable’s number in my contacts. She answered on the second ring.
"Mrs. Gable, it's Hannah from the Moretti house," I said quickly. "Can you look next door? Is Aunt June's car in the driveway?"
There was a pause on the line. Then, Mrs. Gable’s confused voice came through the speaker.
"Hannah? Honey, June’s car isn't here. But there’s a police cruiser parked on her lawn. The front door is wide open."
The phone slipped from my hand.
I looked at Luca in the rearview mirror. His eyes met mine, cold and terrified.
May you like
Vanessa hadn't just gone home to pack.
She had gone to silence the only person who knew the truth.
