Chapter 6: The Father They Buried Twice
Luca's words sat between us like a loaded gun.
Your real father is alive.
I stared at him, waiting for him to laugh, to admit it was some cruel joke designed to make the last twenty-eight years seem even more unbelievable.
He didn't.
“Who is he?”” I asked.
Luca glanced at Elena.
She shook her head.
“Not here.””
“No more secrets!”” I shouted.
The lamp rattled on the table.
“I have spent my entire life being lied to. My mother died without telling me who I was. My brother disappeared while trying to protect me.
A man I thought was a monster may have signed papers that stole me from my family. And now you're telling me another man is my father?””
Elena stepped closer.
“Anna—”
“Don't.””
She stopped.
I turned to Luca.
“Tell me his name.””
My brother lowered his eyes.
“Victor Moretti.””
I couldn't move.
Michael's father.
The man who had died in a car explosion when Michael was thirty-two.
The man whose funeral had been attended by half the city's political establishment.
The man whose portrait still hung in the entrance hall of the Bellini estate.
“No,” I whispered.
Luca nodded miserably.
“He wasn't Michael's biological father. He adopted Michael when he married Michael's mother. But he was your father.””
I looked at Elena.
“Were you married to him?””
“No.””
“Did you love him?””
Her face tightened.
“I trusted him.””
“That isn't an answer.””
“It is the only one I can give you.””
I stepped away from both of them.
For a moment, I thought I might be sick.
Victor Moretti had built an empire through fear. He had controlled judges, politicians, and entire neighborhoods. He had taught Michael to treat violence like a business transaction.
And he was my father.
“Why would he steal his own daughter?””
Elena sat down slowly.
“Because I refused to give him the ledger.””
“That makes no sense.””
“It does when you understand what the ledger contained. Victor wasn't merely buying children. He was using the stolen identities to blackmail the families who adopted them.
Every child became leverage. Every secret became a weapon.””
She looked at me.
“You were supposed to be his insurance policy.””
My skin crawled.
“Against whom?””
“Against the Bellinis. Against the police. Against anyone who might try to destroy him.””
Luca leaned forward.
“Victor planned to make you his heir.””
I laughed once, without humor.
“He wanted to raise me as a criminal?””
“He wanted to raise you as a weapon,” Luca said.
“He believed blood mattered more than loyalty. If you were his daughter, he thought you would eventually belong to him.””
I remembered the childhood I had lived.
A small apartment. A secondhand bicycle. Catherine's burnt toast on Sunday mornings. Luca teaching me to ride a bike in the alley and pretending not to notice when I fell.
None of it had felt like a lie.
“You're saying Catherine knew all this?””
“She knew Victor was dangerous,” Elena said.
“She didn't know every detail. I told her enough to make sure she kept you away from the Morettis.””
“And when did you find out Victor was alive?””
Luca answered.
“Six weeks ago.””
The same week he had accepted the driving job.
My stomach twisted.
“You took that job because of me?””
“I took it because Michael had started investigating his father's death. He found discrepancies in the official report. I thought if I got close to him, I could discover whether Victor had really died.””
“And?””
Luca reached into his shirt and pulled out a small plastic sleeve.
Inside was a photograph of a man standing beside a black sedan.
His hair was white now. His face was lined, but the eyes were unmistakable.
Victor Moretti.
Behind him stood a younger man with one hand resting on his shoulder.
Michael.
The photograph was dated three weeks earlier.
I felt the room tilt.
“Michael knew?””
“Not at first,” Luca said.
“But he suspected his father might be alive. He hired me to follow a financial trail connected to an account Victor had opened in Switzerland.””
“Then why did you disappear?””
“Because I found a shipment record linking Victor to the Bellini Foundation. The moment I copied it, someone broke into my apartment.””
He looked at Elena.
“She got me out before they found the ledger.””
Elena folded her arms.
“I had people watching Luca. When he was captured, I arranged the exchange.””
“What exchange?””
She didn't answer.
I looked from her to my brother.
“Luca?””
He hesitated.
“Anna, the ledger is not the only thing Victor wants. He wants you.””
“Why?””
“Because he believes you have something he lost.””
“What?””
Luca looked at the silver heart pendant around my neck.
I had worn it since childhood.
Catherine had told me it belonged to my birth mother. I'd never taken it off for more than a few minutes.
Luca pointed to it.
“Open it.””
I touched the pendant.
The heart had a tiny seam along one edge. I had always assumed it was decorative.
I pressed my thumbnail against it.
The pendant clicked open.
Inside was a folded strip of paper no wider than a fingernail.
I unfolded it carefully.
A series of numbers had been written in microscopic handwriting.
Below them was a single word.
*ORCHARD.*
Elena went pale.
“Where did you get that?””
“I've had it since I was a baby.””
She closed her eyes.
“Victor must have hidden the access code inside the pendant before he gave you to Catherine.””
“Access to what?””
“The original archive.””
Luca leaned back in his chair.
“That's why Victor wants her. The ledger names the children. The archive contains the original adoption contracts, payment records, and the names of everyone who helped him.””
“Then why didn't he take it from me?””
“Because he didn't know where it was,” Elena said.
“Until now.””
A phone vibrated on the table.
Luca glanced at it.
His face changed.
“What is it?”” I asked.
He turned the screen toward me.
A video had arrived from an unknown number.
Michael Moretti sat in a dark room, his wrists bound to the arms of a metal chair. A bruise darkened one side of his face.
Victor stood behind him.
He looked older than the man in the photograph, but he carried himself with the same quiet confidence.
He placed one hand on Michael's shoulder.
“My son has always been disappointing,” Victor said to the camera.
“Too sentimental. Too eager to believe that love can excuse weakness.””
Michael lifted his head.
“Go to hell.””
Victor struck him across the face.
I flinched.
“Still pretending you're brave,” Victor said.
“You were a frightened boy when I found you. I made you powerful. I taught you to survive.””
“You taught me to obey.””
“I taught you that the world belongs to those willing to take it.””
Victor leaned closer to the camera.
“And now, Anna, I'm going to teach you something, too.””
My blood turned to ice.
He knew I was watching.
“Bring me the pendant and the ledger. Come to the Moretti estate before midnight. If you refuse, Michael dies.””
The video ended.
Luca struggled against his restraints.
“Don't go.””
I stared at the blank screen.
“I'm not going to let him kill Michael.””
Elena grabbed my arm.
“You don't understand what Victor is capable of.””
“Then tell me.””
She hesitated.
“He didn't just arrange the Saint Agnes fire. He ordered it because he knew I had hidden the ledger in the hospital's old chapel.””
“But you said you stole it.””
“I did. I gave it to someone I believed I could trust.””
“Who?””
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“Michael's mother.””
I stared at her.
“Michael's mother is dead.””
“Yes.””
“Then how could she have the ledger?””
Elena opened her mouth, but no words came.
Luca suddenly looked toward the window.
A car had stopped outside the clinic.
Its headlights cut through the curtains.
Then came the sound of footsteps in the hallway.
Elena reached into her handbag and pulled out a pistol.
“Both of you,” she whispered.
“Get behind me.””
Someone knocked on the door.
Three slow, deliberate knocks.
Then a familiar voice spoke from the other side.
“Anna, open the door.””
Michael.
I rushed forward, but Luca caught my wrist.
“Wait.””
His eyes were fixed on the door.
“Anna, that's not Michael.””
The voice came again.
“Please. I need your help.””
Luca's face went white.
“Victor has his voice.””
The doorknob began to turn.
Elena raised her gun.
And from the other side of the door, the voice of Michael Moretti whispered something only I could have known.
“Little sparrow, your brother is lying to you.””
My heart stopped.
Nobody had called me that since Catherine died.
Nobody except—
The door burst open.
May you like
A man stood in the hallway, wearing Michael's face.
And in his hand was Catherine's wedding ring.
