Chapter 6 - The Trust Fund Nobody Was Supposed to Find|
Antonio Moretti's study smelled of old leather and cedarwood.
Luca stood in the doorway for several seconds before entering.
I followed Teresa inside and helped her settle into a chair beside the fireplace.
Detective Ramirez remained nearby.
Marco opened the curtains.
Dust floated through the afternoon sunlight.
A portrait of Antonio Moretti hung above the desk.
He looked stern.
Powerful.
The kind of man who had probably spent his entire life believing he could solve every problem through money and influence.
Luca approached the desk.
“My father kept this room locked after his last illness.”
Teresa nodded.
“He said some papers should never be handled by anyone except you.”
Luca opened the bottom drawer.
Inside were old contracts, photographs, and a small black metal box.
The key Teresa had given him fit the lock.
He opened it.
Inside sat three folders.
One bore Sofia's name.
The second bore Michael's.
The third was marked:
FAMILY TRUST — DESCENDANTS.
Luca looked toward Ramirez.
“May I?”
She nodded.
“Please preserve the documents as you found them. We'll arrange copies and appropriate evidence handling.”
He opened the folder.
His eyes moved across the first page.
Then his expression changed.
“What is it?” Teresa whispered.
Luca swallowed.
“Dad established separate trusts for future grandchildren.”
Teresa nodded.
“He wanted them protected.”
Luca turned another page.
Then froze.
“What?” I asked.
He looked toward Ramirez.
“The trust becomes active when a child is born.”
She leaned forward.
“And who controls the assets?”
Luca studied the page.
“The child's parent or legally appointed fiduciary, depending on the circumstances.”
He turned another page.
His jaw tightened.
“If Sofia's daughter was declared dead, the allocation would remain in the larger family fund.”
Ramirez nodded slowly.
“And who manages that fund?”
Luca stared at the document.
Then answered.
“Michael.”
The room fell completely silent.
Teresa covered her mouth.
I felt sick.
Michael had a financial motive to make Isabella disappear from the records.
But why keep her alive?
Why move her between properties?
The answer emerged from the next folder.
A proposed guardianship document.
It listed a child under the name Emma Reed.
Beside the child's name was an application for access to funds intended for a dependent with medical needs.
Luca stared.
“Emma Reed.”
I remembered the name from the nursery.
The pediatric receipts.
The baby supplies.
The hidden room.
Ramirez examined the paperwork.
“This document may have been intended to establish control over funds through a different legal identity.”
Luca looked up.
“Could that work?”
“Not automatically. It would require additional false documentation and approvals. But it indicates what someone may have been attempting.”
Teresa began crying.
“My granddaughter.”
Luca knelt beside her.
“Mom, we'll find her.”
She shook her head.
“They took her name.”
His expression softened.
“No.”
He gently took her hands.
“They tried.”
I looked toward the papers.
For some reason, the name Emma Reed bothered me.
I'd seen it before the nursery.
But where?
Then I remembered a white envelope delivered three weeks earlier.
It had been addressed to Vanessa.
The return address belonged to a pediatric practice near Milwaukee.
I had placed it on the hallway table.
Later, I saw Vanessa carrying it upstairs.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Luca looked up.
“Yes?”
“I think Vanessa received mail related to Emma Reed.”
Ramirez immediately turned.
“What mail?”
I described the envelope.
The address.
The pediatric practice.
The date.
Ramirez wrote everything down.
Then she called an investigator.
Within minutes, the practice was identified.
It was located in a suburb outside Milwaukee.
And according to the records, a child named Emma Reed had attended an appointment two days earlier.
Luca's expression changed.
“Was Vanessa there?”
Ramirez listened to the reply.
Then looked up.
“The appointment was booked by someone using Vanessa's name.”
Teresa gasped.
Luca stood.
“Is the child still there?”
“No. The appointment ended normally.”
“Where did they go?”
“We're requesting the records and contacting the provider.”
Luca looked toward the window.
He was silent for several seconds.
Then his phone rang.
An unknown number.
He answered.
“Luca Moretti.”
A man's voice came through.
“Hello, big brother.”
Michael.
Luca's expression hardened.
“Where is Isabella?”
Michael laughed softly.
“Straight to business.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Give me proof.”
A pause.
Then Michael said something that made Luca go pale.
“You always thought Dad trusted you more.”
Luca gripped the phone.
“This isn't about Dad.”
“Oh, but it is.”
Michael's voice turned bitter.
“He left you the empire. Sofia got the protected trusts. And I got whatever you decided I deserved.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Michael, she's a baby.”
“Then perhaps Sofia should have thought about that before threatening to expose me.”
The room went still.
Luca's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Expose what?”
Michael laughed.
“The money, Luca.”
Then he added:
May you like
“Ask Sofia what she found in my office before she went into labor.”
The line went dead.
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