Chapter 7 - The Woman Behind The Betrayal
The image appeared on the screen.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Because the person in the photograph was not a stranger.
Not an enemy.
Not someone hidden in the shadows.
It was someone Dominic had known since childhood.
Someone whose voice had filled the halls of this mansion.
Someone whose hand had touched his shoulder when he was a grieving teenager.
Someone who had always told him:
"You are family."
Dominic stared at the screen.
His face slowly changed.
"No..."
The photograph showed a younger version of the person.
Standing beside Marco.
Standing beside his mother.
Standing beside the very people who had been connected to every secret surrounding the Valente family.
And in the corner of the image was a date.
Twenty years ago.
Before Dominic became the head of the family.
Before his father disappeared.
Before the lies began.
Dominic looked at Lorenzo.
Then at Adrian.
Then back at the screen.
"Who is this?"
Nobody answered.
His patience disappeared.
"I said..."
His voice became dangerous.
"Who is this?"
Lorenzo looked exhausted.
Like he had been waiting for this moment for years.
"Dominic."
"Don't."
The room went silent.
"Don't say my name like you still know me."
Lorenzo stopped.
Because he understood.
Dominic wasn't angry anymore.
Anger was simple.
This was something worse.
He felt betrayed by everyone.
His father.
His family.
His closest friend.
The people who were supposed to protect him had built a cage around him.
Adrian stepped closer.
"Let me explain."
Dominic turned.
"You have explained enough."
A pause.
"You were Marco."
Adrian nodded.
"You lied about your identity."
"Yes."
"You lied about your past."
"Yes."
"You knew my mother was alive."
Adrian hesitated.
Dominic noticed.
"Did you?"
Adrian looked away.
That was enough.
Dominic closed his eyes.
For a moment, he looked exhausted.
Then he opened them again.
"Who is the person in the picture?"
Adrian looked at the screen.
His expression became darker.
"Her name is Isabella Moretti."
The name meant nothing to Dominic.
Until Lorenzo reacted.
A small movement.
A single breath.
But Dominic noticed.
"Father."
Lorenzo said nothing.
"Who is Isabella Moretti?"
Lorenzo looked toward the old archive shelves.
"She was your mother's closest friend."
Dominic frowned.
"Friend?"
Lorenzo nodded.
"Before she became our enemy."
The room became colder.
Dominic looked at the photograph again.
His mother was smiling.
Marco was young.
And Isabella stood beside them.
Everyone looked happy.
Like a family.
But Dominic knew better now.
Pictures lied.
People lied.
Everything could be a carefully designed illusion.
"What happened?"
Lorenzo took a breath.
"Isabella knew about Marco before anyone else."
"Why?"
"Because she helped hide him."
Dominic looked at Adrian.
"You knew her?"
Adrian nodded.
"She was the person who protected me after I was taken away."
Dominic froze.
"She protected you?"
"Yes."
"Then why are we calling her an enemy?"
Adrian looked down.
"Because she changed."
Nobody spoke.
Then Elena stepped forward.
"She didn't change."
Everyone looked at her.
Elena's voice was quiet.
"She revealed who she really was."
Dominic turned.
"What do you mean?"
Elena looked at the photograph.
"Isabella didn't save Marco because she cared about him."
A pause.
"She saved him because she needed him."
Adrian's expression tightened.
"For what?"
Elena looked at him.
"To destroy the Valente family."
The words settled heavily.
Dominic looked at Adrian.
"And you helped her."
Adrian immediately shook his head.
"No."
"How do I know that?"
Adrian had no answer.
Because there was no easy answer.
That was the problem.
Dominic had built his life around certainty.
People were loyal.
Enemies were enemies.
Friends were friends.
But now every line had disappeared.
A knock suddenly came from the archive door.
Everyone turned.
A guard stood outside.
"Sir."
Dominic looked at him.
"What?"
The guard held a folder.
"We found this in the security room."
Dominic took it.
The folder was old.
Black.
No name.
But on the front was the same symbol from his father's files.
The symbol that represented everything hidden.
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a report.
Security footage.
Dates.
Names.
And one sentence written across the first page.
SUBJECT: DOMINIC VALENTE.
His stomach tightened.
"This is about me."
Nobody responded.
He turned the page.
The report was from twenty years ago.
Before he was old enough to remember.
A child surveillance report.
Photos of him playing in the garden.
Photos of him sleeping.
Photos of his first day at school.
Someone had been watching him.
His entire life.
Dominic kept reading.
Then he saw a handwritten note.
The child must remain unaware.
He looked at Lorenzo.
"Who wrote this?"
Lorenzo looked away.
Dominic's voice dropped.
"Who wrote this?"
A long silence.
Then Matteo spoke.
"It was your mother."
Dominic froze.
"My mother?"
Matteo nodded.
"She was protecting you."
Dominic looked confused.
"From who?"
Nobody answered.
Because everyone knew.
The answer was worse than expected.
Dominic turned another page.
And found a photograph.
A photograph taken inside the Valente mansion.
A photograph taken on the day he was born.
His mother was holding him.
His father was beside her.
And standing behind them...
was Isabella.
But that wasn't what shocked Dominic.
It was what Isabella was holding.
A document.
A birth record.
Dominic looked closer.
His eyes narrowed.
Because the document wasn't his.
It belonged to another child.
The same child everyone had tried to erase.
Marco.
Then Dominic noticed something written at the bottom.
A signature.
Not Isabella's.
Not his father's.
Not his mother's.
A name he recognized immediately.
A name that made the entire room fall silent.
Because it belonged to the person who had raised him.
The person who had taught him how to trust.
The person who had been beside him from the beginning.
Dominic slowly looked toward Adrian.
"Why is your signature on my birth record?"
Adrian went pale.
And before he could answer, the archive lights suddenly turned red again.
The security system activated.
A voice came through the speakers.
"Dominic..."
Everyone froze.
Because the voice was not unfamiliar.
It was a voice they had heard before.
The voice of the woman who was supposed to be gone.
His mother's voice.
"Your father lied about Marco."
A pause.
"And Adrian lied about who saved you."
The speakers crackled.
Then came the final sentence:
"The person who raised you was never your protector..."
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The archive door unlocked by itself.
And someone was standing outside.
