Chapter 2 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
Luca stared at the photograph in his trembling hand.
Elena. His little sister. The vibrant, laughing girl who had vanished twelve years ago on the night of her high school graduation. The family had spent millions searching. The police had found nothing.
And now, here she was, captured in glossy color, holding a baby.
"She was alive," Luca whispered. The lethal, composed mafia boss was gone, replaced by a grieving brother. "She was alive for eleven years, and she never called me."
"She couldn't," Rachel said gently, reaching out to stroke her daughter’s hair. "Vanessa's brother, Julian, found Elena shortly after she ran away. He convinced her that your father was going to force her into an arranged marriage with the Russian syndicate. Julian said he was protecting her by keeping her hidden."
Luca’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek. His father had been ruthless, yes, but he had loved Elena fiercely. An arranged marriage had never been discussed.
"Julian lied to her," Luca said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.
"He did worse than lie," Rachel wept. "He kept her isolated. Controlled her money. When Lucy was born, he threatened to take her away if Elena ever contacted you. Elena finally realized the truth eight months ago. She was planning to run."
"And then she died," Luca finished, his dark eyes locking onto Rachel. "How?"
Rachel swallowed hard. "A car accident. That’s what Julian told the police. But Elena didn't know how to drive. And the night before she died, she gave me that photograph and the necklace. She told me to take Lucy and run."
Luca’s blood ran cold.
He had suspected Julian Bellini of many things over the years—embezzlement, cowardice, petty cruelty. But murder?
"So you ran," Luca said. "But Vanessa found you."
"A month ago," Rachel nodded. "She offered us money to leave the country. She said if you found out about Lucy, you would kill us to protect your inheritance. I was so scared, Mr. Moretti. We ran out of money. I came here today to beg Vanessa for the passports she promised us."
"But she tried to take the child instead," Luca realized.
"Yes," Rachel sobbed. "She said she was taking Lucy to a 'safe facility.' That’s when Caroline found us."
Luca looked at the little girl, Lucy, who was staring back at him with his sister’s large, expressive brown eyes.
"You are a Moretti," Luca said softly to the child. "You are blood. No one is ever going to hurt you again."
He stood up, his towering presence filling the small bathroom.
"Daniel," Luca commanded, his voice returning to the chilling authority of the Don. "Move Rachel and Lucy to the underground safe room beneath the main house. Post four men at the door."
"Right away, Boss," Daniel said.
Luca turned toward the door, his mind racing. Vanessa had lied about Elena. She had lied about the broken glass. She was covering for a brother who had likely murdered a Moretti.
But as Luca stepped out of the guesthouse, Daniel’s radio crackled.
"Boss," one of the perimeter guards said, his voice tense. "You need to come back to the dining room. Now."
"What is it?" Luca demanded.
"It's the maid, sir. Caroline. She came back downstairs."
Luca frowned. He had ordered Caroline to the medical wing.
He sprinted across the dark lawn, throwing open the French doors to the dining room.
The twenty-six wealthy guests were dead silent.
Standing at the head of the table, leaning heavily on a wooden cane, was Caroline. Her foot was thickly bandaged, but she wasn't wearing her uniform anymore. She had put on her own coat, clearly ready to leave.
But she wasn't leaving quietly.
In Caroline's hand was a large, silver ice bucket.
And she had just dumped its entire contents—ice, freezing water, and two bottles of expensive champagne—directly onto Vanessa Bellini’s lap.
"You arrogant, lying witch," Caroline said, her voice echoing clearly across the shocked room.
Vanessa shrieked, jumping up from her chair, her red silk gown ruined. "Are you insane?! Luca! Have her arrested!"
But Luca didn't look at his furious fiancée.
He looked at Caroline.
Because clenched tightly in Caroline’s other hand, dragged out from beneath Vanessa’s chair, was a heavy, black leather briefcase.
"I didn't step on glass, Mr. Moretti," Caroline said, looking directly at Luca, ignoring Vanessa entirely. "And Vanessa wasn't trying to 'help' Rachel. I came back down here to get my things, and I saw her kick this under the table."
Caroline slammed the heavy briefcase onto the mahogany dining table. The latch popped open.
Inside were stacks of pristine, hundred-dollar bills. Hundreds of thousands of dollars.
And sitting right on top of the money was a one-way ticket to Switzerland.
May you like
But the ticket wasn't in Rachel's name.
It was in Vanessa's.
