Chapter 11 - THE WOMAN AT THE GATES
The plates in my hand clattered onto the kitchen counter.
Luca’s head snapped up.
“Hannah? What’s wrong?”
I pointed a shaking finger at the window.
“There’s someone outside the gates.”
Luca stood up, his protective instincts flaring instantly. He stepped in front of the children and looked out the window.
The woman in the black coat was still standing there, holding the photograph against the car window.
Luca’s face went completely slack. All the color drained from his skin.
“It’s impossible,” he whispered.
“Is it Eleanor?” I asked, remembering the marriage certificate we had just found. “Is it your aunt?”
“No,” Luca breathed, his voice barely audible.
He turned to me, his eyes wide with a shock that bordered on terror.
“It’s Clara,” Luca said.
My heart stopped.
“Clara?” I repeated. “Sophie and Leo’s mother? But... she died three years ago. You buried her.”
“I buried a closed casket after a horrific car accident,” Luca said, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “The medical examiner identified her by her dental records. The car was engulfed in flames.”
He looked back out the window. The woman in the coat lowered the photograph.
Even from a distance, the resemblance to Sophie was undeniable. The dark hair. The elegant posture.
It was Clara Moretti.
She was alive.
“Daniel!” Luca roared, tearing his apron off.
Daniel sprinted into the kitchen seconds later.
“Sir?”
“Open the gates. Bring the woman in the black sedan to the study. Do not let her out of your sight.”
“Yes, sir.”
Luca turned to me. “Stay here with the kids. Do not leave this kitchen.”
He ran out of the room.
I stood paralyzed, watching Sophie and Leo. They were too busy eating pancakes to realize that the mother they had both mourned—one openly, one in secret—was currently walking through the front door.
Ten minutes later, Daniel returned to the kitchen.
“Mr. Moretti requests your presence in the study, Hannah,” he said quietly.
I looked at the kids. “Are they safe here?”
“I have four men on this room,” Daniel assured me.
I nodded, my stomach tied in knots, and walked down the hallway to the study.
The heavy oak doors were open.
Luca was standing behind his desk, leaning heavily on the mahogany surface as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.
Sitting in the leather armchair across from him was the woman in the black coat.
Clara Moretti.
She was beautiful, though her face was lined with an exhaustion that spoke of years of running. She looked up at me as I entered, offering a small, sad smile.
“You must be Hannah,” Clara said, her voice soft and melodic. “I’ve been watching the house for a long time. You’ve taken wonderful care of my daughter.”
“You... you’re alive,” I stammered, unable to form a coherent thought.
“I am,” Clara nodded.
“Why?” Luca’s voice cracked. He looked like a man who had just seen a ghost and wasn't sure if he wanted to hug it or run from it. “Why did you fake your death, Clara? Why did you leave me? Why did you leave Sophie?”
Clara closed her eyes, a single tear escaping.
“Because of Marcus Bellini,” Clara whispered.
Luca frowned. “Marcus? But Marcus hated our family. Why would you run from him by faking your death?”
Clara opened her purse and pulled out a small, velvet pouch. She untied the strings and dumped the contents onto the desk.
A heavy, emerald-encrusted gold bracelet hit the wood with a dull thud.
The same bracelet Marcus had used in the photograph to taunt Luca. The bracelet belonging to Luca’s murdered mother.
“Marcus Bellini didn't hate our family, Luca,” Clara said softly. “He was obsessed with it. He orchestrated the hit on your father. He orchestrated the hit on your mother. He kidnapped Leo.”
She looked up, her eyes burning with a fierce, protective fire.
“And three years ago, he came to me. He told me that if I didn't fake my death and disappear, he would kill Sophie just like he killed your mother.”
Luca stared at the emerald bracelet.
“He forced you into exile,” Luca realized, the horror dawning on him.
“He wanted you broken,” Clara wept. “He wanted the Moretti family to crumble from grief so he could absorb the empire. I paid the medical examiner. I crashed the car. I disappeared to keep Sophie safe. I’ve been living in Europe, tracking Marcus’s moves, waiting for a mistake.”
She looked at me.
“And then, a brave young housemaid discovered Leo was alive. You forced Marcus to play his hand, Hannah. You exposed him.”
Clara stood up and walked around the desk.
She stood in front of Luca.
“I’m so sorry I left you,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “But I had to save our little girl.”
Luca broke.
He pulled his wife into his arms, burying his face in her neck, sobbing openly. The grief of three years washed away in a single, desperate embrace.
I stood near the door, wiping my own tears, witnessing a miracle I never thought possible.
The family was truly whole.
But as Clara pulled back to look at Luca, she noticed the silver chain hanging around my neck.
It was a necklace my mother had given me for my eighteenth birthday. A simple silver locket.
Clara’s face went pale.
She reached out and pointed at the locket.
“Hannah,” Clara whispered, her voice suddenly filled with terror. “Where did you get that necklace?”
I frowned, touching the silver metal.
“My mother gave it to me. Why?”
May you like
Clara looked at Luca, her eyes wide with panic.
“Because that necklace belongs to Vanessa Bellini. And it houses a GPS tracking chip.”
