Chapter 10 - The Last Moretti Secret
Claire lowered the phone.
For a long moment, the hospital room was silent.
Vincent studied her face.
"What happened?"
She couldn't answer.
"Claire?"
She stared at the man sitting in the hospital bed.
The man she'd married.
The man she'd loved.
The man who had broken her heart so completely that she'd almost forgotten what happiness felt like.
And now someone was accusing him of arranging her father's death.
"Anthony Russo has been arrested," she said.
Vincent's expression hardened.
"Good."
"He made a statement."
"What statement?"
Claire's throat tightened.
"He said you ordered my father's murder."
Vincent went completely still.
Then he shook his head.
"No."
She watched him carefully.
"No?"
"Claire, I swear to you, I never ordered anyone to hurt Robert Bennett."
"Then why would Russo name you?"
"I don't know."
She stepped backward.
"That's not good enough."
Vincent looked desperate.
"I was thirty years old when your father died. I barely knew him. I had no reason to—"
"You knew he was investigating your company."
"Yes, but—"
"You knew his evidence could damage your family."
"Claire, listen to me."
She shook her head.
"I spent three years listening to you. Every time you defended Isabella. Every time you dismissed my feelings. Every time you told me I was imagining things."
His face fell.
"I'm not asking you to trust me blindly."
"Then what are you asking?"
"Help me uncover the truth."
Claire stared at him.
For a moment, she saw the man she'd fallen in love with.
The man who once stood outside a hospital for six hours when her mother was undergoing surgery.
The man who secretly funded a neighborhood shelter after Claire mentioned it was struggling.
The man who could be generous, protective, and unexpectedly gentle.
But she also remembered the pregnancy test.
The mango cake.
The ambulance ride.
The empty seat beside her hospital bed.
Love didn't erase those memories.
And suspicion couldn't be dismissed simply because Vincent sounded sincere.
"I won't protect you if you're guilty," she said.
"I wouldn't ask you to."
She walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
"Vincent?"
"Yes?"
"Sign the divorce papers."
His eyes filled with tears.
"I will."
Claire left.
Three days later, Vincent Moretti signed the documents that ended his marriage.
He did it without demanding another conversation.
Without offering more money.
Without threatening to make Claire's life difficult.
His attorney delivered the papers to Evelyn Brooks.
Inside the envelope was a handwritten note.
Claire,
I spent three years believing that providing for you meant loving you. I was wrong.
You asked for my time, my attention, and my loyalty. I gave you expensive things instead.
I cannot undo what happened to our child. I cannot erase the night I abandoned you when you needed me most.
I am not asking for forgiveness.
I'm only promising that whatever I discover about your father, I will give you the truth, even if it destroys me.
You deserved better than the husband I was.
Vincent.
Claire read the letter twice.
Then folded it carefully.
She didn't call him.
She didn't send a reply.
Instead, she drove to a quiet overlook outside Flagstaff.
The mountains glowed beneath the rising sun.
She sat on the hood of her rented car and watched the horizon turn gold.
For years, she'd dreamed of seeing a sunrise beside Vincent.
Now she watched it alone.
And for the first time, the loneliness didn't feel like punishment.
It felt like freedom.
Her phone buzzed.
Daniel.
"We got permission to examine the contents of Vincent's private vault," he said.
Claire sat upright.
"Did you find the box?"
"Yes."
"What's inside?"
"Letters, hospital records, several photographs, and a sealed envelope addressed to Robert Bennett."
Claire gripped her phone.
"What does it say?"
"We haven't opened the envelope yet. The investigators are documenting everything."
She exhaled.
"Okay."
Then Daniel spoke again.
"Claire, there's something else."
She closed her eyes.
"What now?"
"We found a recording."
"A recording of what?"
"Your father meeting someone at the Grand Moretti on the night before he died."
Claire's heart began pounding.
"Who was he meeting?"
Daniel hesitated.
"That's the problem."
"What problem?"
"The footage shows Robert entering a private conference room. Vincent walks in twelve minutes later."
Claire went cold.
"Then Russo was telling the truth?"
"Not necessarily. There's another person in the room. The camera doesn't show their face."
Claire stared at the mountains.
"Who?"
"We're working on identifying them."
She swallowed.
"Daniel, I need to see that footage."
"I'll arrange it through the investigators."
Before ending the call, Daniel added:
"There's one more thing. Margaret Hale disappeared yesterday."
Claire sat frozen.
"What?"
"Her house is empty. Her car is gone. And nobody has heard from her."
Claire looked down at her father's photograph.
Margaret had carried the truth for decades.
Now she was missing.
"Find her," Claire whispered.
"We're trying."
That afternoon, Claire returned to her apartment.
An unmarked envelope waited beneath her door.
There was no address.
No stamp.
Only her name.
She carried it inside and locked the door.
Then she opened it.
Inside was a small flash drive.
And a letter written in a familiar hand.
Her father's.
Claire,
If you've reached this point, it means the truth is finally coming out.
I know what the Moretti family told you.
I know what you believe about Vincent.
But there is one secret I never had the courage to reveal.
Claire's hands began trembling.
She read the next sentence.
The man responsible for everything was not the person who ordered my death.
He was the person who made sure you fell in love with Vincent Moretti.
Claire's breath caught.
She turned the page.
But there was nothing else.
Only four words.
Watch the recording alone.
Claire inserted the flash drive into her laptop.
A video file appeared.
She pressed play.
The screen showed a private conference room at the Grand Moretti.
The timestamp read six years earlier.
Her father sat at a table.
Across from him stood Lorenzo Moretti.
A younger Vincent entered.
Claire leaned closer.
She could hear voices.
Robert spoke first.
"You told me you would stay away from my daughter."
Vincent frowned.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Lorenzo laughed.
"Enough pretending. It's time everyone understood why this marriage matters."
Robert stood.
"She's not a bargaining chip."
Claire's heart raced.
Vincent looked between the men.
"What marriage?"
Lorenzo smiled.
"The one I'm going to arrange."
Claire covered her mouth.
Six years ago.
Before she'd even met Vincent.
Her marriage had been planned.
The video continued.
Robert slammed a folder onto the table.
"You can't bury this forever."
Lorenzo reached for it.
Robert pulled it away.
Then the conference room door opened.
Someone stepped inside.
Claire leaned closer.
A woman.
Young.
Dark-haired.
Wearing a red dress.
The woman's face remained hidden for a moment.
Then she turned.
Claire's blood went cold.
It was her mother.
The same mother who had spent years encouraging her to give Vincent a chance.
The same mother who had cried at their wedding.
The same mother who'd told Claire that meeting Vincent was fate.
On the screen, her mother smiled.
Then she said:
"Robert, you really should have listened when I told you to leave this alone."
Claire stopped breathing.
Her father stared at her mother.
"You?"
The woman nodded.
"I'm sorry, Robert. But Claire belongs with Vincent. And I'm not letting you ruin everything."
The recording abruptly cut to black.
Claire sat motionless.
Then her second phone rang.
The old phone her father had left her.
An unknown number.
She answered with trembling hands.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice whispered:
"Claire, sweetheart. It's Mom."
Claire's heart nearly stopped.
Her mother had died two years ago.
She had stood beside the coffin.
She had watched them lower it into the ground.
"That's impossible," Claire whispered.
The woman gave a soft, familiar laugh.
"There's so much you don't understand."
Claire gripped the phone.
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Why did you let me believe you were dead?"
"Because it was the only way to protect you."
Claire's eyes filled with tears.
"Protect me from what?"
Silence.
Then her mother spoke five words that changed everything.
"Vincent was never the target."
Claire could barely breathe.
"What?"
Her mother's voice trembled.
"You were."
And before Claire could ask another question, someone knocked on her apartment door.
Three slow knocks.
Then a man's voice called from the hallway.
"Mrs. Moretti? My name is Anthony Russo."
Claire froze.
Russo was supposed to be in police custody.
He continued:
"I know what happened to your father. And I know why your mother disappeared."
Claire looked toward the door.
Then at her phone.
Her mother's voice became frantic.
"Claire, listen to me. Whatever you do, don't open that door."
But the man outside said something that made her blood run cold.
"Your father is alive."
Claire's world stopped.
He continued:
May you like
"And he sent me to bring you home."
TO BE CONTINUED...
