Chapter 3 - THE SECRET IN THE STUDY
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The sound of Luca’s heavy footsteps echoed up the grand staircase like distant thunder.
Vanessa tried to bolt toward the kitchen, but two armed guards blocked her path with drawn expressions.
“Sit down, Mrs. Moretti,” the senior guard said flatly, keeping his hand rested firmly on his holster.
Vanessa collapsed into a leather armchair, glaring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.
“You signed your own death warrant tonight, Claire,” she hissed beneath her breath.
I ignored her poisonous words and poured a warm glass of water for Frank.
The old man’s hands shook so violently that the rim of the glass clattered against his dentures.
“Twenty years, Claire,” Frank whispered, his voice trembling with heartbreak.
“Twenty years I believed my own flesh and blood robbed me blind and laughed behind my back.”
“It wasn't your fault, Mr. Moretti,” I said gently, wiping a stray tear from his hollow cheek.
“Someone built a wall of lies around you and kept you trapped inside it.”
From the second floor, the violent sound of splintering wood shattered the heavy silence.
Luca had not waited for a key; he had kicked open the heavy oak desk with brute force.
A few minutes later, Luca walked slowly down the stairs, holding a thick stack of manila folders.
In his left hand, he held eleven unopened envelopes, yellowed and creased from months of neglect.
In his right hand, he held a sleek black binder stamped with the logo of Sterling Financial Enterprises.
Vanessa gasped, her skin draining of all color until she looked like a walking corpse.
Frank straightened his posture, his tear-filled eyes locking onto the handwriting on the envelopes.
“That’s Anthony’s script,” Frank whispered, reaching out with trembling fingers.
“He always curved his capital M's just like our mother taught us in Sunday school.”
Luca walked past Vanessa without acknowledging her existence and laid the envelopes gently before his father.
“Every single one of them was addressed to you, Dad,” Luca said softly.
Then Luca slammed the black binder down onto the table with enough force to rattle the chandelier.
“Care to explain why my wife’s maiden name is on the land deed for Taylor Street?” Luca asked.
Vanessa buried her face in her manicured hands, beginning to weep hysterical tears.
Luca flipped the binder open, revealing bank wire transfers dating back eighteen months.
“My wife’s father, Arthur Sterling, has been purchasing city permits to demolish our original family restaurant,” Luca said.
“To build a luxury condominium complex worth eighty million dollars,” he continued, reading the municipal filings.
“The only obstacle standing in their way was the shared deed between Frank Moretti and Anthony Moretti.”
I felt a chill crawl down my spine as the full scale of the monstrous betrayal came into focus.
Vanessa had never loved Luca; she had been a trojan horse sent into his home to steal his family's legacy.
Luca picked up the third letter from the pile and carefully slit open the sealed envelope.
He began reading his uncle’s words out loud to the silent dining room.
“‘Dear Frank, I know you hate me, and maybe I deserve your anger for not fighting harder back in 2004.’”
Frank let out a ragged sob, his fingers tracing the inked paper on the tablecloth.
“‘I am diagnosed with congestive heart failure, Frank, and the doctors say I have less than a year left.’”
“‘I don’t want the restaurant, Frank, and I never took a single penny from our mother’s savings.’”
“‘Arthur Sterling forged my name on the bank transfer, and I have spent the last ten years tracking down the notary who stamped it.’”
“‘I finally have the original documents, brother, and I am bringing them to you so we can die in peace as brothers.’”
Luca stopped reading, his throat working hard as he swallowed back immense grief.
Frank slumped forward over the table, weeping uncontrollably against the paper his brother had touched.
“He’s sick,” Frank cried, his voice breaking into pieces.
“My little brother is sick and dying alone in the cold while I sat here eating steak!”
Luca turned his deadly gaze toward the woman who wore his diamond ring.
May you like
“Where is my uncle right now, Vanessa?” Luca whispered with lethal precision.
“Tell me before I turn this city inside out to find him.”
