Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH IN THE AMBULANCE
The flashing red lights of the ambulance illuminated the stone driveway of the Moretti estate.
Paramedics loaded Richard onto the stretcher. Vanessa tried to climb into the back of the ambulance, but Luca stepped in front of her.
"You stay here," Luca ordered.
"He's my father!" she screamed.
"He's her father too," Luca said, his eyes hard. He looked at me. "Go with him, Margaret."
I didn't hesitate. I climbed into the back of the ambulance, still wearing my black-and-white maid’s uniform. The doors slammed shut, and we sped into the Chicago night.
As the paramedics worked to stabilize his heart, I sat in the corner, clutching the old photograph Richard had given me.
My hands were shaking as I held it up to the dim light.
It was a picture of my mother, Evelyn, holding me when I was a baby. We were standing in front of our old apartment building.
But it wasn't the image that made my breath catch.
It was what was written on the back.
Answer One, Open Two.
My grandmother used to say that phrase. When you answer one mystery, you usually open two more.
Beneath the phrase was a series of numbers and a single word: Dante.
I stared at the ink. Dante was Luca's father. The legendary, ruthless boss of the Moretti syndicate who was assassinated ten years ago.
Why would my father have Dante Moretti’s name written on the back of a picture of me?
The ambulance arrived at Chicago Memorial Hospital. They rushed Richard through the emergency doors. I was forced to stay in the waiting room, pacing the linoleum floor, my mind spinning.
Thirty minutes later, the heavy sliding doors of the ER opened.
Luca Moretti walked in.
He had taken off his suit jacket. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the intricate tattoos on his forearms. He didn't look like a man whose engagement had just imploded. He looked like a predator hunting for the truth.
He walked directly to me.
"Is he alive?" Luca asked quietly.
"They're stabilizing him," I said, my voice trembling. "It was a severe angina attack. The stress triggered it."
Luca nodded. He looked at me, truly looking at me for the first time. Not as the girl who cleaned his floors, but as an equal.
"I reviewed the employment file, Margaret," Luca said. "The transfer documents you signed are legally binding. Vanessa legally owns your trust."
Tears pricked my eyes. "So she wins. She humiliated me, she stole my mother's money, and she wins."
"No," Luca said softly. "She doesn't win."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy, antique silver watch.
"This belonged to my father, Dante," Luca said. "He gave it to Richard Bellini fifteen years ago as a symbol of a truce between our families."
I frowned. "Why are you showing me this?"
"Because," Luca said, his dark eyes locking onto mine, "when Vanessa was packing her things to leave my house tonight, my security team searched her bags. They found this watch hidden in her jewelry box."
My stomach tightened.
Luca pressed a hidden button on the side of the watch. The back casing popped open.
"It has a hidden compartment," Luca explained.
He tipped the watch over.
A small, folded piece of paper fell into his palm. He unfolded it and handed it to me.
It was a copy of my birth certificate.
But it wasn't the one I had grown up with. The mother listed was Evelyn Ellis.
But the father wasn't Richard Bellini.
The father listed was Dante Moretti.
The floor dropped out from under me.
"That's impossible," I gasped, backing away. "Richard is my father! He just confessed to it!"
"Richard raised you for eleven years to protect you," Luca said, his voice thick with a sudden, devastating emotion. "But he isn't your biological father, Margaret. Dante was."
"No," I cried, shaking my head violently. "No, that means..."
"It means," Luca whispered, stepping closer, "you are my half-sister. And Vanessa didn't just steal your inheritance. She used you to infiltrate my family, knowing exactly who you truly were."
Before I could process the massive, shattering revelation, the doors to the emergency room burst open.
A doctor ran out, his face pale.
"Family of Richard Bellini?" he called out.
"Right here," I said, rushing forward.
"I'm sorry," the doctor said, panting. "He was stable, but a nurse went in to adjust his IV... and he went into sudden cardiac arrest. We couldn't revive him."
"What?" I screamed. "No, he was fine! What nurse?"
"I don't know," the doctor stammered. "She wasn't on our staff schedule. She left this on his bed."
The doctor held up a small, silver rosary.
I recognized it instantly.
May you like
It was the rosary Vanessa wore around her wrist every Sunday.
TITLE: THE ROSARY LEFT ON THE BED
