Chapter 3 - THE PHONE CALL IN THE GARDEN
“That’s a mistake,” Vanessa choked out, stepping back until her spine hit the edge of the mahogany dining table.
Luca took the blue document from my trembling hands.
His dark eyes scanned the legal phrasing.
The paperwork wasn't just a draft. It was fully prepared, needing only a doctor’s signature declaring Teresa incompetent, and a notary’s stamp to make it legally binding.
It gave Vanessa complete control over Teresa’s bank accounts, her medical treatments, and her residency.
It gave Vanessa the power to put Teresa in a nursing home against her will.
“A mistake,” Luca repeated, his voice dangerously soft.
“The lawyer must have drafted it wrong!” Vanessa pleaded, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “I told him to put your name, Luca! I swear to God!”
“Do not swear to God in front of my mother.”
Luca threw the document onto the table.
“You tried to legally kidnap my mother,” he said. “You tried to steal her autonomy so you could lock her away and drain the accounts my father left her.”
“No! Luca, you know I have my own money!”
“Then why?” he demanded, his voice finally rising, echoing off the crystal chandeliers. “Why rush this? Why do this before the wedding?”
Vanessa opened her mouth to lie again.
But she didn't get the chance.
“Because of the safety deposit box,” a quiet voice said.
We all turned.
Teresa was standing up.
She wasn't leaning on the table. She wasn't slouching to make herself look smaller.
She stood tall, her silver hair catching the light, both of her hearing aids firmly in her ears.
Vanessa’s face went completely bloodless.
“Teresa, shut your mouth,” Vanessa hissed, dropping the respectful daughter-in-law act entirely.
Luca took a threatening step toward Vanessa, but Teresa held up a hand.
“It’s all right, Luca,” Teresa said calmly.
She looked directly at the woman who had tormented her for months.
“I didn't hear everything you said on the phone last Tuesday, Vanessa,” Teresa said, her voice steady. “You took my hearing aids out before you went into the garden. You thought I was just staring at the television.”
Vanessa swallowed hard, looking like a trapped animal.
“But you left the patio door open,” Teresa continued. “And I know how to read lips.”
Luca looked at his mother. “What did you see, Mom?”
Teresa’s eyes didn't leave Vanessa.
“She was talking to a man,” Teresa said. “She was very angry. She told him that she couldn't access the offshore accounts because the master routing numbers were locked in Giovanni’s private safety deposit box.”
My heart began to pound.
Giovanni Moretti’s private accounts were the stuff of legend in the Chicago underworld. Millions of dollars, hidden away to protect the family in case of a war.
“She told the man on the phone,” Teresa said, her voice filled with quiet strength, “that the bank required my physical signature to open the box. And that if I was declared mentally incompetent, the power of attorney would allow her to open it instead.”
Luca slowly turned his head back to Vanessa.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked.
The silence in the room was suffocating.
Vanessa shook her head, backing away toward the windows. “She’s lying. She’s a confused old woman making up stories!”
“My mother does not lie,” Luca said.
He pulled his cell phone from his tailored jacket.
“Matteo,” Luca said into the phone. “Bring the cars around to the front. We are leaving. And have two men escort my former fiancée to the basement. She’s going to tell us who she’s working for.”
Vanessa screamed as the dining room doors burst open and two massive guards stepped inside.
They grabbed her by the arms.
“Luca, you can't do this!” she shrieked, fighting against their grip. “My father will kill you!”
Luca paused.
He lowered his phone.
“Your father is a retired real estate developer in Florida,” Luca said.
Vanessa stopped struggling. A cruel, desperate smile twisted her lips.
“That’s what my fake passport says,” she spat.
Luca’s expression hardened into stone.
“Who is your father, Vanessa?”
May you like
She threw her head back and laughed, the sound completely devoid of sanity.
“My real last name isn't Bellini, Luca,” she sneered. “It’s Romano. Marco Romano is my father. And he’s going to burn this house to the ground tonight.”
