Chapter 8 - The Daughter She Tried to Steal|
At 3:12 in the morning, Luca Moretti stood in the center of our living room and admitted something I never thought I'd hear.
"I have failed you."
Nobody spoke.
Daniel stood near the doorway.
Francesca sat beside Isabella, who had finally fallen asleep again.
Maria had brought blankets and warm milk.
Outside, three security vehicles waited in the circular driveway.
Luca looked at me.
"I let Vanessa into our home. I believed what she told me. I signed papers I should never have signed. And I made decisions about our daughter without speaking to her mother."
His voice broke slightly.
"I don't expect you to forgive me tonight."
I stared at him.
The apology mattered.
But it didn't erase the damage.
"Good," I whispered.
He lowered his eyes.
"Because I can't."
He nodded once.
"I understand."
For the first time, he didn't argue.
He didn't reach for my hand.
He didn't tell me I was overreacting.
He simply stood there and accepted the consequences of what he'd done.
Then Daniel entered with news.
"We found the charter company."
Luca turned.
"Where?"
"Executive terminal at Midway. Flight scheduled for six. Three passengers listed."
My chest tightened.
"Who?"
"Vanessa Bellini. A woman traveling under the name Alessandra Russo. And Isabella Moretti."
I felt sick.
Luca's face hardened.
"Alessandra Russo?"
Daniel nodded.
"An alias used by Vanessa's grandmother before her death."
Francesca straightened.
"Her grandmother died eight years ago."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then someone is using a dead woman's identity."
Daniel nodded.
"Looks that way."
I looked toward Luca.
"Who?"
He answered quietly.
"Victoria Bellini."
Vanessa's mother.
A woman I'd met twice.
She wore expensive perfume, spoke softly, and once criticized the way I dressed for a charity luncheon.
She'd smiled at Isabella and given her a gold bracelet.
I'd thought she was merely unpleasant.
Now I wondered whether she'd been studying my daughter.
Daniel continued.
"The flight paperwork lists Vanessa as Isabella's legal guardian for travel purposes."
I stared at him.
"Based on those forged custody documents?"
"Apparently."
Luca's expression became deadly calm.
"Stop the flight."
Daniel nodded.
"Federal authorities have already been notified."
I looked up.
Luca noticed.
"What?"
"You're involving the police?"
"Yes."
I studied his face.
That decision mattered.
For years, Luca had solved problems inside the Moretti organization.
Disputes were handled through private meetings.
Threats were answered by men whose names I never learned.
I'd always hated it.
But tonight, he was choosing a different path.
"Will they arrest Vanessa?" I asked.
"If the evidence supports it."
"And Isabella?"
Luca looked toward our sleeping daughter.
"She isn't going anywhere without your consent."
I closed my eyes.
It should have been obvious from the beginning.
Yet hearing him say it aloud nearly made me cry.
Daniel's phone rang.
He stepped aside.
Then his expression darkened.
"Boss."
Luca turned.
"What?"
"Someone tried to access the garage camera system ten minutes ago."
"From where?"
"An external connection."
Luca's jaw tightened.
Daniel continued.
"We traced it to an account used by the estate's former IT contractor."
I frowned.
"Former?"
Daniel nodded.
"He stopped working here last month."
I remembered him.
A quiet man named Peter Salvi.
He had come to the mansion several times to repair security cameras.
Vanessa had once introduced him as a friend of her brother.
My stomach tightened.
"Peter."
Daniel looked at me.
"You know him?"
"He was in Isabella's room last month."
Luca went still.
"What?"
"Vanessa said he needed to inspect the window sensors."
Daniel immediately looked toward his phone.
"Which day?"
I thought carefully.
"October fourth. The afternoon before Isabella's school concert."
He began typing.
Then stopped.
His expression changed.
"The first threatening photograph arrived October fifth."
Luca slowly turned toward me.
Everything clicked into place.
Vanessa's security questions.
The threats.
The Switzerland plan.
The legal paperwork.
The missing passport.
She hadn't merely exploited a danger that already existed.
She had helped create it.
Luca's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Speak."
A woman's voice came through.
I recognized Vanessa immediately.
"Good morning, darling."
Luca's expression hardened.
"Where are you?"
She laughed softly.
"Still giving orders?"
"Give me Isabella's passport."
"That can be arranged."
"What do you want?"
There was a pause.
Then Vanessa answered.
"The Lakefront Trust."
Luca said nothing.
"You sign over the controlling interest, and I disappear."
"You're admitting to kidnapping plans?"
"Oh, Luca. Don't be dramatic. You were the one planning to send Isabella away."
I saw his jaw tighten.
Vanessa continued.
"All I did was arrange the details."
Luca glanced toward Daniel, who was coordinating with investigators.
"Where is Victoria?"
"With me."
"And Peter Salvi?"
A pause.
Then Vanessa's voice became sharp.
"Who told you about Peter?"
Luca looked toward me.
I felt a chill.
Because for the first time, Vanessa sounded frightened.
Luca spoke calmly.
"You made a mistake."
She laughed nervously.
"Did I?"
"You assumed Emma was too unimportant to notice what was happening."
Silence.
Then Vanessa whispered, "Emma has always been the problem."
I stared at the phone.
She continued.
"She wasn't supposed to marry you."
My stomach dropped.
Luca went still.
"What?"
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"Ask your grandmother who arranged your first meeting."
Francesca slowly rose from her chair.
Vanessa's voice hardened.
"Ask her why a girl from an ordinary family ended up marrying the heir to the Moretti empire."
Luca looked toward his grandmother.
May you like
And I saw the truth in Francesca's expression before she spoke.
"Leonardo," she whispered, "there's something I should have told you seven years ago."
