Chapter 10 - The Heirloom In The Envelope
My hands trembled as I stared at the sealed envelope.
The paper was old, yellowed at the edges, and smelled faintly of pipe tobacco—Antonio Moretti’s signature blend.
Luca looked from the dying man to the envelope in my hands.
“Carlo,” Luca said gently, pressing his hand against the old man’s bleeding shoulder. “What did my father leave for Emma?”
Carlo’s breathing was growing shallow.
“The truth,” he rasped. “Antonio… couldn't take it to his grave.”
His eyes fluttered shut, and his chest stopped moving.
Carlo was gone.
Luca slowly stood up, running a hand through his dusty hair.
He looked at me.
“Open it.”
I slid my finger under the flap and tore it open.
Inside was a delicate gold chain.
Hanging from the chain was a small, emerald pendant shaped like a teardrop.
I gasped, dropping the envelope.
It fluttered to the floor, but I didn't care.
I clutched the necklace in my palm, staring at it in absolute horror.
“Emma?” Luca asked, stepping closer. “What’s wrong? Do you recognize it?”
“Yes,” I whispered, tears suddenly flooding my eyes.
“Is it your mother’s?”
“No,” I said, looking up at him. “It’s yours.”
Luca frowned in confusion.
“Mine?”
“It’s your mother’s,” I corrected, my voice shaking. “I saw it in the portrait hanging in the grand hall. The one of your parents on their wedding day.”
Luca took the necklace from my hand.
He examined the back of the emerald.
His face drained of color.
“It has her initials,” he said quietly. “But… my mother was buried wearing this necklace. I put it on her myself before they closed the casket.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“If she was buried in it, how did it end up in an envelope in Carlo’s pocket?”
Luca didn't answer.
He knelt down and picked up the dropped envelope.
He tipped it upside down.
A small, folded piece of stationery fell into his palm.
He unfolded it.
It was a handwritten letter from his father, Antonio.
Luca read it silently, his jaw tightening so hard I thought his teeth would crack.
“What does it say?” I asked.
He handed the letter to me.
The handwriting was rushed, jagged, filled with desperate energy.
My dearest Luciano,
If you are reading this, Carlo has fallen, and the final lie has been exposed.
I told you your mother died in the hospital three days after the car crash.
I lied.
The woman in the casket was a decoy.
I had to hide her from the Valentis. I had to make them believe their revenge was complete.
I stopped reading and looked at Luca.
“She’s alive?” I whispered.
Luca’s eyes were completely dark.
“Keep reading.”
I looked back at the letter.
She has been living under assumed protection for thirteen years.
But her memory was fractured in the crash.
She does not remember me. She does not remember you.
I paid a family to take her in. A good family.
My heart started to hammer violently against my ribs.
I read the final line of the letter.
I gave her to the widow of the man who caused the crash.
I gave her to Emma’s mother.
The letter slipped from my fingers.
I backed away, shaking my head.
“No. No, that’s impossible.”
Luca stepped toward me.
“Emma. Your aunt. The one who lives in the guest house behind your mother’s property.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Aunt Clara,” I choked out. “She’s been in a wheelchair my whole life. My mother said she was her sister.”
“Did she look like your mother?” Luca asked, his voice breaking.
“No,” I sobbed. “She didn't.”
Luca looked down at the emerald necklace.
May you like
“My mother is Aunt Clara.”
TITLE: The Ticket In The Lining
