Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH IN THE RED LEATHER COAT

The hallway went dead silent.
The rain lashed against the tall windows, but inside the Moretti estate, the air felt like it had been sucked from the room.
“What did you just say?” Luca asked, his voice barely a breath.
Teresa covered her face with her hands, sobbing quietly.
“I didn’t want you to know. Antonio begged me never to tell you.”
Luca stared at his mother. Thirty-six years of his life, his entire foundation, was crumbling in a matter of seconds.
“I have a sister?” he asked.
Teresa nodded slowly. “She was born two years before you. Antonio… he made a mistake before we were married. But he took care of her. He supported her in secret.”
I stood near the sitting room doors, feeling like I was intruding on an intimate tragedy. I quietly stepped back, intending to leave them alone.
“Claire, stay,” Luca said without looking at me.
I froze. “Yes, sir.”
He walked over to his mother and gently guided her to a velvet armchair. Walter limped closely behind, resting his chin heavily on Teresa’s foot.
“Why did Vanessa know about this?” Luca asked. “How could she possibly have the key to Dad’s safety deposit box?”
“Because Vanessa’s family has been blackmailing us for five years,” Teresa confessed, her voice shaking. “Antonio’s daughter… her name is Elena. Vanessa’s father found out about her. He threatened to leak the scandal to the press and ruin the Moretti business unless Antonio agreed to the marriage between you and Vanessa.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
His entire engagement wasn’t a romance. It was a ransom.
“Dad agreed to that?” Luca asked, anger flaring in his eyes.
“He was dying, Luca! He wanted to protect his legacy. He thought Vanessa was just a spoiled girl. He didn’t know she was cruel.”
Luca looked down at the silver key in his hand.
“What’s in the safety deposit box?”
“The proof,” Teresa said. “Elena’s birth certificate. And the gold watch. He left the watch for her, to prove she was his blood.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“I need to find her.”
Teresa shook her head frantically. “You can’t! Vanessa’s father will destroy everything if you break the engagement and go looking for Elena.”
“The engagement is over,” Luca said firmly. “And nobody threatens this family.”
He looked at me.
“Claire. Go up to the attic. Bring down my father’s old red leather coat. The one he wore the night he found Walter.”
I blinked in surprise. “The coat, sir?”
“Just bring it.”
I hurried up the grand staircase. The attic was cold and smelled of cedar and old paper. I found the heavy garment bag in the back corner. Inside was the worn, red leather coat Antonio had loved so much.
As I carried it downstairs, something hard bumped against my side from inside the pocket.
I reached in.
My fingers brushed against a piece of stiff paper.
When I reached the sitting room, I handed the coat to Luca.
He didn’t put it on. Instead, he reached into the inner lining. He felt around, his fingers searching for something specific.
He frowned.
“It’s not here.”
“Sir?” I asked hesitantly. “I felt something in the right pocket.”
Luca immediately reached into the right pocket and pulled out a faded, black-and-white photograph.
It was a picture of Antonio, looking young and happy, holding a little girl with dark curls.
But it wasn’t just a picture.
Written in faded ink on the back were three words.
She is safe.
Luca stared at it. “This isn’t Elena,” he whispered.
Teresa looked up, wiping her tears. “What do you mean?”
Luca turned the photograph around so his mother could see it.
“Mom,” Luca said quietly. “Elena was born two years before me. Look at the date stamped on the bottom of this picture.”
Teresa squinted.
Her breath hitched.
The date was exactly seven years ago. The exact same year Antonio brought Walter home.
“That’s impossible,” Teresa whispered.
Luca looked at the little girl in the photo.
“Vanessa was lying,” Luca said, his eyes darkening. “Dad wasn’t blackmailed to protect Elena.”
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He looked at me, and my stomach dropped.
“He was blackmailed to protect someone else.”