Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD|
For ten seconds, nobody inside the Moretti mansion moved.
The only sound came from the enormous grandfather clock standing beside the marble staircase.
I could hear every tick.
Every breath.
Every desperate beat of my own heart.
Luca Moretti stared at his seventy-nine-year-old mother as though she had just told him the world was ending.
And perhaps she had.
"Mama, look at me."
His voice was quieter than I had ever heard it.
"Are you telling me the man in this photograph murdered my father?"
Rosa's trembling fingers tightened around mine.
"I saw him coming out of your father's study that night."
She swallowed.
"Antonio was still alive when I heard the argument."
Luca looked down at the photograph again.
"What's his name?"
Rosa closed her eyes.
"Victor Sloane."
The name seemed to strike Luca harder than any physical blow.
I watched the color drain from his face.
"That's impossible."
Vanessa immediately stepped forward.
"Exactly, darling, this is ridiculous."
But Luca wasn't looking at his wife anymore.
He was staring at the photograph.
"Victor Sloane disappeared ten years ago."
Rosa nodded.
"Three days after your father's funeral."
Luca slowly raised his eyes.
"He was my father's financial adviser."
"He was much more than that," Rosa whispered.
"He knew every account, every property, and every secret your father had."
Vanessa gave a sharp, nervous laugh.
"Well, perhaps this photograph simply shows a businessman visiting the house."
Luca turned toward her.
"Then explain why you were meeting him outside my private study after midnight."
Vanessa's lips parted.
No words came out.
I had spent three years serving breakfast in this house, polishing its silver, and keeping quiet when powerful people spoke.
But I had never seen Vanessa Bellini Moretti speechless.
Not once.
"He's a consultant," she finally said.
"I met him through a business acquaintance."
"What business?"
"Investment management."
"What's his company called?"
She hesitated.
"I don't remember."
Luca took one deliberate step toward her.
"You don't remember the name of the company whose consultant you brought into my house?"
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"I don't appreciate being interrogated in front of servants."
I lowered my gaze automatically.
Old habits were difficult to break.
Then Rosa's hand settled gently over my bruised wrist.
"Claire is not the problem here," she said.
"She is the reason I'm standing here at all."
Luca turned to me.
"Claire, where did this photograph come from?"
My throat tightened.
"I took it last night, sir."
"Why?"
"Because I heard Mrs. Moretti crying outside your study."
I looked toward Vanessa.
"She had been holding Rosa's wrist so tightly that Rosa couldn't pull away."
Vanessa shook her head.
"That's a lie."
"Then I heard a man's voice," I continued.
"He said someone needed to find the original documents before morning."
Luca's eyes narrowed.
"What documents?"
"I don't know."
"The man was standing near the study door, and Vanessa told him to leave."
I struggled to keep my voice steady.
"When they stepped into the hallway, I took the picture because I was afraid nobody would believe us."
Vanessa moved toward me.
"You sneaky little—"
"Don't."
Luca's warning stopped her.
He was no longer shouting.
Somehow, that frightened everyone even more.
He turned toward his security chief, Nico Alvarez, who had been waiting near the entrance.
"Nico, clear the guests from the house."
"Quietly?"
"Immediately."
Nico nodded and began speaking into his earpiece.
Within minutes, the mansion's elegant evening gathering dissolved into hurried goodbyes and confused whispers.
I could feel the weight of every guest's stare as they passed.
A few looked at my bruised wrist.
Most looked away.
One woman whispered something about family scandals.
Another pretended she hadn't noticed Rosa crying.
That was how wealthy people protected their comfort.
They called suffering an inconvenience and left before anyone asked them to help.
Luca guided his mother toward a velvet sofa.
"Mama, sit down."
Rosa refused.
"Not until you promise me something."
"Anything."
"Don't do what your father would have done."
Luca frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Don't let your anger decide what happens next."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Your father trusted Victor once."
"And when that trust was broken, everything became a war."
Luca looked at his mother's bruised arm.
Then at mine.
"I won't let anyone hurt either of you again."
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"You're really choosing their word over your wife's?"
Luca turned.
"My mother has five fingerprints on her arm."
"So does Claire."
"And your explanation is that they both somehow struck the same banister in exactly the same way."
Vanessa looked away.
Before she could respond, Nico returned.
His expression had changed.
"Boss, there's something you need to see."
Luca stood.
"What is it?"
Nico glanced at Rosa before answering.
"The security system recorded someone entering the west wing last night."
"Who?"
"We can't identify him yet."
"Then what did you find?"
Nico hesitated.
"The person entered your father's old security code."
Luca froze.
"My father's code was retired after his death."
"That's what I thought."
Nico's voice dropped.
"But someone reactivated it three weeks ago."
I felt Rosa's hand grow cold against mine.
Luca looked toward the dark corridor leading to his father's study.
"Who had permission to reactivate that code?"
Nico swallowed.
"According to the authorization record, sir, you did."
Luca shook his head.
"I never authorized anything."
Then Rosa whispered something that made every hair on my arms stand up.
"Antonio told me that if Victor ever returned, the first thing he would try to steal wouldn't be the money."
Luca knelt beside her.
"What would he steal, Mama?"
May you like
Rosa stared toward the study.
"The truth about how your father died."
