Chapter 10
I heard Lily ask something, but her voice sounded distant.
My father, Vittorio Moretti, had supposedly died from heart failure in a private hospital in Switzerland.
I had identified his body.
I had buried him in the Moretti family crypt.
I had taken control of the organization while six rival families waited for weakness.
“You’re lying.”
“I saw him four months ago.”
“Where?”
“At Sofia’s father’s estate.”
I crossed the room so quickly that Isabella rose, shielding Lily instinctively.
I stopped myself before coming closer.
“You saw my father?”
“He was older. Thinner. But it was him.”
“That’s impossible.”
“He called Sofia by name. She called him Vittorio.”
I remembered the body in Switzerland.
The coffin had remained closed during the funeral because the embalming had been mishandled.
Before burial, I had viewed the face for less than a minute.
The features had been swollen.
A ring sat on the right hand.
My father’s ring.
But rings could be moved.
Medical records could be forged.
Bodies could be altered.
Especially by a man with judges, doctors, and government officials in his pocket.
“Why would he fake his death?”
“Because Elena had gathered enough evidence to destroy him.”
“And Sofia?”
“She works for him.”
The betrayal struck harder than the DNA report.
Sofia had entered my life two years after my father’s death.
Beautiful, intelligent, patient.
She had never pushed me toward marriage. That was what made me trust her.
She knew when to speak and when to remain silent. She learned the names of my guards’ wives. She remembered birthdays. She waited until I believed choosing her had been my idea.
Even the pregnancy had seemed like a miracle.
Now I understood.
Nothing about Sofia had been accidental.
“Whose child is she carrying?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
The phone vibrated again.
A second message appeared.
Midnight. The nursery. Come alone, or Lily’s school will receive Elena’s real file.
Lily leaned toward the screen.
“Is that Miss Sofia?”
Isabella quickly took the phone.
“You know her?” I asked Lily.
“She comes to the house sometimes.”
“What house?”
“The big one where Mom works.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“Lily—”
“She asks me questions,” the child continued. “About the treasure.”
Every instinct inside me sharpened.
“What treasure?”
Lily shrugged.
“The thing my first mother left me.”
Isabella’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood.
“We’re leaving.”
“No one is leaving.”
My guards opened the door immediately.
Isabella turned toward them, panic rising in her eyes.
I dismissed the men with a look and closed the door again.
“I’m not threatening you,” I said. “But I need the truth.”
“There is no treasure.”
“Lily believes there is.”
“She’s a child.”
Lily frowned.
“You told me never to show anyone.”
Isabella’s shoulders dropped.
The secret had escaped.
I crouched beside Lily.
“What did your mother leave you?”
She reached beneath the collar of her yellow sweater and pulled out a thin silver chain.
A tiny key hung from it.
It was old and blackened around the edges.
Stamped into the metal was the Moretti crest.
May you like
I recognized it instantly.
The key belonged to a vault hidden beneath my childhood home.
