Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Photograph
The silence in the dining room was absolute.
I stared at the faded photograph in Luca's trembling hand. The man standing next to the younger version of me had dark hair, a confident smile, and the exact same blue-gray eyes as my daughter.
Matteo.
"That’s impossible," I whispered, the room spinning around me. "He told me he was a mechanic. He told me his name was David."
"He lied to you to protect you," Luca said, his voice hollow, still staring at the picture of his dead brother. "Matteo was the Underboss of the Chicago Syndicate. Our father was grooming him to take over."
Rebecca stumbled backward, clutching my arm for support. "My father... my father was a mafia boss?"
Luca slowly lowered the photograph. The shock on his face was hardening into a cold, terrifying clarity.
"Matteo died twenty-eight years ago," Luca explained, his voice tight with suppressed grief. "The police said it was a car accident. But my father always suspected it was a hit."
He looked at me. "When exactly did he leave you, Catherine?"
I swallowed hard, my mind struggling to piece together a reality I had never suspected. "It was a Tuesday. It was pouring rain. I told him I was pregnant, and he... he looked terrified. He kissed my forehead, told me he had to fix something, and walked out the door. I never saw him again."
"Because he never made it home," Luca realized, his jaw clenching. "His car exploded that same night."
I gasped, covering my mouth. He didn't abandon me. He didn't run away from the baby.
He was murdered.
Luca turned to Marco, who had been standing silently by the door.
"Arthur Bellini didn't just facilitate an illegal adoption," Luca said, his voice vibrating with a sudden, lethal fury. "He orchestrated it to hide the existence of a Moretti heir. He sold my brother’s child."
Marco’s hand rested on the grip of his holstered weapon. "Arthur is in the basement, Boss. Do you want me to start asking questions?"
"No," Luca said. "I’ll ask them myself."
Before Luca could move, the heavy mahogany doors burst open.
Two armed guards dragged a thrashing, frantic man into the dining room. He was older, perhaps in his late fifties, wearing an expensive suit that was now wrinkled and stained with rain.
"Let me go!" the man screamed, fighting wildly.
I froze. I knew that voice.
Rebecca screamed, throwing her hands over her mouth. "Dad?!"
The man stopped struggling the moment he saw her. "Rebecca! Oh, thank God, Rebecca!"
It was Richard Bennett. The man who had bought my daughter.
"Mr. Moretti," one of the guards panted, pinning Bennett’s arms. "We found him trying to breach the back gate. He was screaming for the girl."
Luca looked at Richard Bennett with absolute disgust.
"You have a lot of nerve breaking into my home, Richard," Luca said coldly.
Bennett fell to his knees on the marble floor. "Please! I just want my daughter back! Vanessa called me! She said you were going to kill her!"
"Vanessa lied," Luca stated. "I have no intention of harming my niece."
Bennett went completely still. "Niece?"
"Did you think we wouldn't find out?" Luca asked, stepping toward him. "You paid Arthur Bellini twenty-five thousand dollars for a stolen child."
Bennett shook his head frantically, tears streaming down his face. "No! I didn't know it was stolen! Arthur told us the mother didn't want her! My wife couldn't have children! We were desperate!"
"So you bought one," I snapped, the anger finally overriding my shock.
I stepped in front of Luca, glaring down at the man who had raised my child.
"You let me believe I was signing legal papers," I cried. "You let me walk out of that hospital with empty arms, thinking I was doing the right thing for her!"
Bennett looked up at me, his eyes filled with genuine, agonizing guilt.
"I'm sorry," he wept. "I swear to God, Catherine, I didn't know the agency was fake until my wife found the private ledger years later. We loved her. We gave her everything."
"You bought a child from the mafia!" Luca roared, his patience snapping. He grabbed Bennett by the collar, hauling him off the floor. "And when you found out Arthur Bellini sold you a Moretti heir, you kept your mouth shut to protect yourself!"
"I protected her!" Bennett screamed back, terrified but fierce. "If your father knew Matteo had a bastard child, he would have taken her from us! He would have raised her in this violent, bloody world! I kept her safe!"
Luca froze, the truth of Bennett’s words hitting him hard. His father had been a ruthless, unforgiving Don. He absolutely would have taken the child by force.
Rebecca stepped forward, tears streaming down her face.
"Let him go," she whispered.
Luca looked at her, then slowly released Bennett’s collar. Bennett collapsed back onto the floor, gasping for air.
"He's the only father I've ever known," Rebecca cried, looking between me and Luca. "He lied. But he did love me."
I watched the man who had raised my daughter. The anger inside me burned, but the maternal instinct to protect Rebecca’s heart was stronger.
"Take him out of here," Luca ordered the guards. "Put him in the guest house. He doesn't leave until I say so."
The guards pulled a sobbing Bennett out of the room.
Luca ran a hand through his hair, exhausted. He looked at me, then at Rebecca.
"I have a niece," Luca murmured, the realization finally settling in. A small, genuine smile touched his lips. "Matteo’s daughter."
He stepped toward Rebecca, offering his hand.
"Welcome to the family, Anna," Luca said gently.
Rebecca hesitated, then took his hand. "It’s Rebecca."
Luca nodded respectfully. "Rebecca."
Before the moment could settle, Marco’s radio crackled loudly.
"Boss! Boss, do you copy?!"
Marco grabbed the radio off his belt. "I copy. What is it?"
"It’s Arthur Bellini," the panicked voice of a basement guard echoed through the room. "He’s dead."
My heart stopped.
Luca’s expression instantly shifted back to the lethal Don. "What do you mean he’s dead? I just sent him down there five minutes ago!"
"He didn't make it to the cell, Boss," the guard stammered. "Someone intercepted us in the hallway. They shot Arthur twice in the chest and killed Tony."
"Who?" Marco demanded, drawing his weapon. "Who did it?"
"It was Vanessa, sir," the guard coughed, clearly injured. "She had a gun hidden in her dress. She killed her own father."
The room plunged into absolute chaos.
"Lock down the estate!" Luca roared, pulling his own weapon from his shoulder holster. "Nobody gets out!"
"Why would she kill her own father?" I panicked, grabbing Rebecca’s arm and pulling her behind me.
"Because Arthur knew who orchestrated Matteo’s murder twenty-eight years ago," Luca realized, his eyes wide with a terrifying clarity. "And Vanessa is working for them."
Luca looked at Marco. "Get Catherine and Rebecca to the safe room. Now."
Marco grabbed my shoulder, pushing me toward the hidden panel behind the dining room fireplace.
But as the panel slid open, the heavy double doors of the dining room crashed open again.
Standing in the doorway, holding a smoking, silenced pistol, was Vanessa Bellini.
Her red dress was splattered with blood. Her makeup was smeared, and her eyes burned with a manic, desperate fury.
She didn't aim the gun at Luca.
She aimed it directly at Rebecca.
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"If the Moretti bloodline ends," Vanessa screamed, "the Bellini family takes over the syndicate!"
She pulled the trigger.
