Chapter 3 - THE BLUE INK
Luca stared at the paper.
“I never signed this,” he said flatly.
Caroline’s hand trembled slightly as she held it. “It was delivered to my lawyer by your estate manager. It has your personal wax seal on the envelope, Luca. And it’s notarized.”
I leaned closer to the door window.
I shouldn't have been watching. But I couldn't look away.
Luca took the document. He scanned the legal jargon, his dark eyes narrowing. “This gives you full legal and physical custody. It waives all my parental rights. It says I voluntarily surrendered her because I felt unfit.”
He looked up, his jaw tight. “Do you honestly believe I would ever sign something like that?”
Caroline swallowed hard. “Vivian told me—”
“Stop listening to what Vivian told you!” he snapped, his voice echoing in the empty ballroom.
Isabella flinched. Luca immediately softened his posture, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Caroline. But this signature is a forgery.”
Vivian, who was still standing near the piano, let out a nervous laugh.
“Oh, please. She forged it herself, Luca. She’s trying to extort you.”
But I knew she hadn't.
Because I recognized the notary stamp.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I thought about my mother. I thought about the property taxes due on Friday. If I walked into that room right now, Vivian would make sure I never worked in Chicago again.
But I looked at Isabella. She was holding her mother’s hand, looking so small and terrified in her expensive dress.
I pushed the service door open.
“Mr. Moretti?”
All three of them turned to look at me.
Vivian’s eyes immediately narrowed into slits. “Claire, get back to the kitchen. You are dismissed.”
I kept my eyes on Luca. “Sir, the notary stamp on that paper. Is it from a man named Arthur Pendelton?”
Luca looked down at the document. Then back at me. “Yes. How do you know that?”
“Because Mr. Pendelton comes to the house on the first Tuesday of every month,” I said, my voice shaking. “He meets with Vivian in the library. I serve them tea.”
Vivian stepped forward, her face flushed with panic. “She’s lying! This maid has been trying to cause trouble all evening!”
“Last Tuesday,” I continued, forcing myself not to step back, “I was dusting the library shelves when he arrived. Vivian asked him to leave his stamp on the desk while he took a phone call in the hallway.”
Luca walked slowly toward me. “Claire. Are you telling me my sister used a notary stamp to forge custody documents?”
“I don't know what she stamped, sir. But I saw her press it onto a stack of legal papers while he wasn't looking.”
Luca turned slowly back to his sister.
Vivian was backed against the piano. The arrogance was completely gone, replaced by raw, unadulterated fear.
“Why?” Luca asked. The one word held more weight than a scream. “Why would you give away my daughter?”
“Because we couldn't afford her!” Vivian finally screamed, tears streaking her perfectly applied makeup.
Luca stopped. “What?”
Vivian reached into her expensive designer clutch. Her hands shook as she pulled out a heavy, diamond-encrusted bracelet. She threw it onto the marble floor. It clattered loudly, the stones catching the light.
“It’s fake,” Vivian sobbed. “Everything is fake, Luca. The jewelry. The trust funds. The offshore accounts. Dad left us drowning in debt before he died. I’ve spent the last five years secretly liquidating assets just to keep this house running!”
Luca stared at the fake diamonds on the floor. “You stole from the estate.”
“I saved the estate!” she fired back. “But Caroline’s family... they knew. Her father found out about the debt. He was going to expose us to the board. It would have ruined the company. So I made a deal with him.”
Caroline looked sick. “A deal?”
Vivian glared at her. “I told your father that if he kept his mouth shut, I’d make sure you left Luca. And I’d make sure you got Isabella in the end. He just wanted his daughter away from our mess.”
Luca’s expression turned lethal. “You sold my marriage. And you tried to sell my child.”
Vivian broke down, sinking to the floor. “I did it for the family!”
Luca looked at Caroline.
He stepped toward her, his anger shifting into a profound, devastating regret.
“Caroline,” he whispered. “I didn't know. I swear to God, I didn't know.”
She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face.
“I know you didn't, Luca,” she said softly.
She reached into her coat pocket again.
“But Vivian didn't just threaten my father.”
Caroline pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. It looked old and yellowed.
“She threatened Isabella.”
She handed the paper to Luca.
He opened it.
And all the color drained from the most powerful man in Chicago’s face.
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“Where did you find this?” he demanded, his voice trembling.
“Under Isabella’s pillow,” Caroline whispered. “The night before I left.”
