Chapter 2 - A Father's Heartbreak and A Mother's Cruelty
The entire dining room froze.
Nobody breathed.
Nobody moved.
Only the sound of Ivy’s small, terrified voice lingered in the heavy air.
“Daddy... did I do something wrong?”
Michael Moretti, a man known throughout Chicago for his ruthless business negotiations and unbreakable composure, dropped to his knees.
He didn't care about the fifty wealthy guests staring at him.
He didn't care about his older brother, Luca, standing just inches away with a look of pure betrayal.
Michael reached out with shaking hands and pulled the nine-year-old girl into his chest.
He buried his face in her dark curls.
“No, sweetie,” Michael choked out, his voice cracking. “You didn't do anything wrong. You were perfect. You're always perfect.”
Ivy wrapped her small arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder.
She dropped her stuffed rabbit onto the floor.
“Aunt Vanessa said you'd be mad if I talked to you,” Ivy whispered, her voice muffled against his suit. “She said you didn't want to be my dad anymore.”
Michael let out a sound that tore at my heart. It was a sob of pure agony.
He pulled back just enough to look at her tear-stained face.
“I have never stopped wanting to be your dad,” he said fiercely, wiping her cheeks with his thumbs. “Not for a single second of your life.”
I stood beside the table, the spilled wine still dripping down my ruined uniform, my chest tight with emotion.
Luca slowly turned away from his brother.
His dark eyes locked onto Vanessa.
“You told her he didn't want her?” Luca’s voice was barely a whisper, but it carried enough quiet rage to make the guests step backward.
Vanessa’s face was ashen. Her perfect posture was crumbling.
“Luca, listen to me—”
“You told a nine-year-old child that her own father didn't want her?” Luca stepped closer. “You forced my brother to watch his daughter grow up from a distance? To pretend he was just an uncle?”
“It was the only way!” Vanessa screamed, her voice shrill and desperate.
She reached into her expensive clutch purse and pulled out a small, tarnished silver object.
She threw it onto the white tablecloth.
It was a baby’s rattle. Made of solid silver, engraved with the initials I.M.
Ivy Moretti.
“Do you know what my father would have done if he found out I was pregnant by the younger, reckless Moretti brother?” Vanessa’s chest heaved. “My family was preparing me to marry you, Luca! The heir! The head of the family!”
Luca stared at the silver rattle.
His jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth would shatter.
“So you hid the pregnancy,” Luca said coldly. “You went to Italy. You had my brother’s child in secret, left her with your sister, and then came back to Chicago to seduce me.”
“I did it to save Michael's life!” Vanessa cried, pointing a trembling finger at him. “My father would have killed him for ruining my reputation!”
It was a staggering confession.
The guests murmured in shock.
For a second, I almost felt a shred of pity for Vanessa. She had been trapped by a ruthless, mafia-connected father.
But then, Carlo Romano stepped forward.
The wealthy Italian businessman buttoned his suit jacket, his expression dark.
“That is only half the truth, Vanessa,” Carlo said smoothly.
Vanessa whipped her head toward him, pure terror in her eyes. “Carlo, shut your mouth!”
But Carlo ignored her. He looked directly at Luca.
“She didn't just hide the child to protect your brother, Mr. Moretti,” Carlo said. “She hid the child because of the arrangement she made with me.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “What arrangement?”
Carlo reached into his inner jacket pocket.
He pulled out a small, navy blue booklet.
An Italian passport.
“Three years ago, Vanessa’s family ran into a terrible financial debt with my family in Rome,” Carlo explained. “A debt of five million dollars.”
Vanessa lunged for the passport, but Luca caught her wrist, holding her back.
“Let him finish,” Luca growled.
Carlo looked down at Ivy, who was still clinging to Michael.
“Vanessa promised that if she successfully married you, Luca, she would use the Moretti wealth to pay off her father's debt,” Carlo said.
My heart pounded against my ribs.
“And if she didn't?” Luca demanded.
Carlo’s eyes were entirely devoid of warmth as he held up Ivy’s passport.
“If the wedding did not happen, or if she failed to pay,” Carlo said softly, “Vanessa signed a legal contract giving me full custody of Ivy. As collateral.”
The room erupted into gasps.
Michael stood up, pulling Ivy behind his legs to shield her from the Italian businessman.
“You're out of your mind,” Michael snarled, his fists clenched. “You will never touch my daughter.”
Carlo smiled faintly. “I already have the signed adoption papers, Michael. Under Italian law, since you are not on the birth certificate, you have no rights. If Luca does not marry Vanessa tomorrow... the child comes to Rome with me.”
Luca slowly released Vanessa’s wrist.
He looked at the woman he was supposed to marry in less than twenty-four hours.
A woman who had sold her own flesh and blood to settle a mafia debt.
“The wedding is off,” Luca said, his voice echoing through the silent room.
Vanessa fell to her knees, sobbing.
Carlo Romano simply checked his watch.
“Then I suggest you say your goodbyes,” Carlo said coldly. “My men are waiting outside to collect the girl.”
Suddenly, the heavy oak dining room doors slammed open.
Three men in dark suits stepped into the room.
But my eyes weren't on the men.
My eyes were on the silver crest pinned to the lapel of the man in the center.
May you like
It was a crest I hadn't seen since I was a little girl in my grandmother’s kitchen.
A crest that belonged to my family.
