Chapter 4 - DAMIAN’S MOTHER CALLED MY CHILDREN “THE HEIRS”
Lucia Marchetti arrived before noon.
She did not know I was there.
That was intentional.
Damian seated me in the adjoining study with the door open less than an inch.
I hated hiding.
But I hated ignorance more.
The triplets were upstairs with a nanny Damian trusted because she had worked for his late grandmother for twenty years.
I checked them twice before agreeing.
Lucia swept into the library wearing a cream coat and pearl earrings.
She was sixty-one.
Beautiful in the intimidating way some women become after decades of never being told no.
“Damian.”
“Mother.”
“I received a ridiculous call from security.”
“Sit.”
“What happened?”
“Sit.”
She did.
He placed Rachel Dunn’s photograph on the table.
Silence.
Lucia’s fingers tightened around her handbag.
“You recognize her.”
“No.”
Damian leaned back.
“My investigators traced payments to her.”
Lucia said nothing.
“From the family trust.”
Her face remained controlled.
“Many people receive money from the trust.”
“Four hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
Still nothing.
“Beginning seven days after the triplets were born.”
Lucia’s eyes sharpened.
So she knew.
Damian’s voice turned dangerous.
“Tell me.”
“I was protecting Luca’s children.”
My hands went cold.
Damian didn’t move.
“From what?”
“Their mother.”
Everything inside me exploded.
I almost entered the room.
Stopped myself.
Damian asked, “Who was their mother?”
Lucia looked away.
“A girl named Elena.”
He became very still.
“You knew her name.”
“Yes.”
“Did Luca tell you?”
“Eventually.”
“And?”
“She was unsuitable.”
I gripped the doorframe.
Unsuitable.
I had been twenty-four.
Working part-time.
Caring for my dying mother.
Pregnant with triplets.
Apparently poverty made motherhood negotiable.
Damian’s voice lowered.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing at first.”
“At first.”
“Luca wanted to leave.”
“Yes.”
“He wanted to take the children away from Chicago.”
“And?”
“He could not.”
“Why?”
“The triplets were Marchettis.”
My nails dug into my palms.
Damian said, “They were also Elena’s children.”
Lucia laughed softly.
“A waitress?”
His chair moved.
“Careful.”
The warning in his voice made her stop.
She stared.
“You’ve met her.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“The children found her.”
For the first time, Lucia lost control.
“What?”
Damian leaned forward.
“The children saw Elena yesterday.”
Lucia’s face went white.
“They called her Mama.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Lucia stood.
“That’s impossible.”
“DNA confirmed maternity this morning.”
Her hand gripped the table.
Then she whispered something I would never forget.
“Rachel promised she would never find them.”
I opened the door.
Damian looked toward me.
Lucia turned.
Our eyes met.
She knew me.
Not from photographs.
From somewhere else.
“You.”
My voice shook.
“Yes.”
Lucia’s face hardened.
“You were supposed to stay away.”
“You told me my babies were dead.”
“No.”
“Rachel told you.”
“You paid her.”
“I paid her to protect the children.”
“By stealing them?”
“You were young.”
“So?”
“Poor.”
“So?”
“Your mother was dying.”
“She was already dead when I delivered.”
Lucia stopped.
Maybe she had not known that detail.
Good.
Let it hurt.
“You had no family.”
“I had them.”
I pointed upstairs.
“My children.”
Lucia looked at Damian.
“Send her out.”
He stood.
“No.”
Her eyes widened.
“This is family business.”
“Elena is their mother.”
“She is nobody.”
The temperature in the room changed.
Damian’s voice became almost quiet.
“Say that again.”
Lucia looked at him.
Then wisely didn’t.
I stepped closer.
“Why did you steal them?”
She lifted her chin.
“Because Luca was dead.”
“What?”
Damian snapped.
“Luca died eleven months after the birth.”
Lucia’s mouth tightened.
The lie cracked.
“You stole them before he died.”
Silence.
Damian saw it too.
“What happened to Luca?”
Lucia looked toward the window.
“Damian.”
“What happened to my brother?”
“He found out.”
My heartbeat stopped.
“Found out what?” I asked.
Lucia closed her eyes.
“That I moved the babies.”
The room went silent.
Damian whispered, “He didn’t know?”
“No.”
“He thought they died too?”
“At first.”
I covered my mouth.
Luke.
Luca.
He had not abandoned me.
He had been lied to.
Just like me.
“What did you tell him?”
Lucia’s voice became colder, as if cruelty were easier when expressed like administration.
“That Elena hemorrhaged.”
I stared.
“You told him I died?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
Rachel had told me the babies died.
Lucia told Luca I died.
Two grieving parents separated by matching lies.
Damian’s face became something frightening.
“And when he discovered the truth?”
“He became unstable.”
“What does that mean?”
“He threatened me.”
“He wanted his children.”
“He wanted to expose everything.”
“What everything?”
Lucia went silent.
Damian stood.
“What else were you hiding?”
She looked at him.
“Luca found irregularities in the family trust.”
Money again.
It was always money.
The triplets had inherited shares from their grandfather.
Under an old agreement, Luca’s first biological children collectively received fifteen percent of Marchetti Holdings.
Worth hundreds of millions.
If Luca controlled the children, he controlled those shares.
If Luca died while the children had no legally recognized mother?
Trust administration went to the senior surviving family trustee.
Lucia.
Damian’s mother had not only stolen my babies.
She had positioned herself to control their inheritance.
“You used my children for votes,” I whispered.
Lucia’s expression hardened.
“I preserved the family.”
Damian laughed once.
A terrifying sound.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You preserved yourself.”
She turned toward him.
“You think you’re different?”
“I hope so.”
“You’ve killed for this family.”
I went still.
Damian did too.
There it was.
The truth nobody said in polite rooms.
He did not deny it.
Lucia continued.
“You have threatened men. Bought judges. Controlled docks. And now a waitress walks in with sad eyes and suddenly you discover morality?”
I looked at Damian.
He stared at his mother.
Then said, “Maybe morality should have arrived sooner.”
Lucia’s face changed.
Before she could answer, one of Damian’s guards entered.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found Luca’s old storage unit.”
Damian’s head turned.
“Where?”
“South Loop.”
“What’s inside?”
The guard hesitated.
“A laptop.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“Video recordings.”
My chest tightened.
“Of what?”
The guard swallowed.
“Luca talking about Elena.”
Lucia moved toward him.
“Destroy them.”
Damian turned slowly.
Every person in the room froze.
His mother had just made the worst mistake possible.
Damian’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Mother.”
Lucia stopped.
“You will never give that order in my house again.”
Then he looked toward security.
“Take her phone.”
“What?”
Lucia recoiled.
“You cannot imprison me.”
“I can prevent you from destroying evidence.”
“I am your mother.”
“And those are Luca’s children upstairs.”
His eyes shifted toward me.
“And Elena is their mother.”
He turned back.
“For once, you do not decide what family means.”
Lucia was escorted into a guarded guest suite while lawyers were contacted.
I should have felt relief.
Instead, I could barely breathe.
May you like
Because somewhere inside a storage unit was the voice of a man I had spent fourteen months believing abandoned me.
A man who may have spent his final months searching for the children both of us thought we had lost.
