Chapter 5 - The Forged Signature
The gold pocket watch felt heavy as lead in my apron pocket.
Teresa’s desperate plea echoed in my mind as I slipped out of her bedroom and crept down the long, carpeted hallway of the second floor.
The music from the engagement party drifted up the grand staircase, a mocking soundtrack to the nightmare unfolding above.
Luca’s late father’s study was at the very end of the East Wing.
It had been locked since the day he died.
I pressed myself against the wall as a pair of caterers hurried past, carrying silver trays of empty champagne flutes.
When the coast was clear, I hurried to the heavy mahogany door of the study.
It was locked, of course.
But Teresa had told me the secret.
I pulled out the pocket watch. The winding stem on the top had an unusual groove.
I pressed the stem directly into the small keyhole beneath the door handle and twisted.
A heavy click echoed in the quiet hall.
I pushed the door open and slipped inside, shutting it silently behind me.
The study was pitch black, smelling of old leather, dust, and expensive cigars.
I didn't dare turn on the overhead lights.
I pulled out my phone and used the dim glow of the screen to navigate.
Teresa had said the safe was behind the large oil painting of the Italian countryside.
I found the painting above the unlit fireplace.
I reached behind the heavy wooden frame and felt a small latch. I pulled it, and the painting swung outward on hidden hinges.
Behind it was a modern, steel wall safe.
But there was no keypad.
Just a small, circular indentation perfectly the size of the pocket watch.
I pressed the watch into the groove.
The mechanical gears inside the safe whirred to life, recognizing the internal magnets of the watch.
The steel door popped open.
I reached inside.
There was no money. No jewels.
Just a single, thick manila envelope sealed with red wax.
I pulled it out and tore the wax seal.
Inside was a legal document. A deed.
I scanned the heavy parchment paper under the light of my phone.
It was the deed to the entire Moretti estate, including the mansion, the surrounding thousand acres, and the lucrative private airstrip on the mountain.
Answer one: Vanessa wasn't just after Luca’s money. She wanted the stronghold itself. She wanted to hand the Moretti fortress over to the Romanos.
Open two: A transfer of this magnitude required two signatures. Luca’s, and Teresa’s. The matriarch retained half ownership until her death.
I looked at the bottom of the document.
My blood turned to ice.
Both signature lines were signed.
Luca Moretti.Teresa Moretti.
A reversal.
Teresa had sworn to me she had never signed over the house. She had told me just yesterday that she would rather die than give Vanessa control of her home.
I stared at the looping, elegant signature of the old woman.
It was perfect. Every curve, every slant was exactly how Teresa wrote her name.
But as I looked closer, holding the phone light directly over the ink, I noticed something.
The ink on Luca’s signature was slightly faded, absorbed deep into the paper.
The ink on Teresa’s signature was entirely fresh. It sat on top of the parchment, slightly glossy.
It was a forgery.
A masterfully executed forgery, but a forgery nonetheless.
Someone in this house had copied Teresa’s signature within the last twenty-four hours.
And then, a cold, terrifying thought struck me.
If Vanessa had this forged deed, why did she leave it in the safe?
Unless she didn't leave it here.
Unless she was coming to get it right now.
The sound of the heavy mahogany door clicking shut behind me made my heart stop.
I spun around.
The overhead lights flickered on, blinding me for a split second.
Standing in the doorway, wearing her pristine red gown, was Vanessa Bellini.
She smiled. A cold, predatory smile that didn't reach her eyes.
“I was wondering how long it would take the loyal little maid to come snooping,” Vanessa purred, locking the door from the inside.
I shoved the deed behind my back, gripping it tightly.
“You forged Teresa’s signature,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Vanessa chuckled, walking slowly toward me. The heels of her expensive shoes clicked rhythmically against the hardwood floor.
“I didn't have to,” Vanessa said casually. “Adrian did it for me.”
Adrian. The brother.
“He’s a weak man,” Vanessa continued, trailing a perfectly manicured hand along the edge of the leather sofa. “Always living in Luca’s shadow. All it took was a little push, a little promise of power, and he was more than happy to help me empty his mother’s cedar box and forge her name.”
“You’re giving the estate to Dominic Romano,” I said.
Vanessa’s eyes flashed with annoyance.
“Dominic is an idiot. But he pays well. And once the Romanos control this mountain, Luca will have nowhere to hide.”
She held out her hand.
“Give me the deed, Sophie. And I will let you walk out the front door. I will even give you a very generous severance package.”
“I’m not giving you anything,” I said, stepping backward until my shoulders hit the cold stone of the fireplace.
Vanessa sighed dramatically.
“Such misguided loyalty. Do you really think Luca cares about you? You’re the help. The moment he finds out you broke into his father’s study, he’ll throw you out on the street.”
She took another step closer, dropping the charming facade entirely.
“Give me the paper, Sophie. Or my bodyguard will make sure your parents have a very unfortunate accident back in Ohio.”
My breath caught in my throat.
She knew about my parents. She knew where they lived.
“You’re a monster,” I whispered.
“I’m a pragmatist,” Vanessa smiled.
She reached out to grab the deed from my hand.
Before her fingers could even touch the paper, a shadow detached itself from the heavy velvet curtains covering the adjoining balcony door.
“She’s not giving you a damn thing, Vanessa.”
Vanessa shrieked, stumbling backward.
Luca stepped out of the shadows.
May you like
He had climbed the exterior stonework from the terrace below. His suit was damp from the rain, and his eyes were completely devoid of mercy.
He had heard every single word.
