Chapter 8 - The Enemy Who Wanted Clara Gone
The name on the DNA report was Isabella Moretti.
I stared at it.
I read it again.
Then again.
The letters refused to make sense.
“Who is Isabella?”
Nobody answered.
Dominic was staring at the page as if it had opened a grave.
“You know her,” I whispered.
His eyes lifted slowly.
“I knew her.”
“Who was she?”
He looked toward Victor.
Victor said nothing.
“Dominic.”
His jaw tightened.
“She was my sister.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“You had a sister?”
“She died.”
“When?”
“Twenty-eight years ago.”
I looked at the DNA report.
“But she’s alive.”
Dominic shook his head.
“She can’t be.”
A bullet struck the wall beside us.
We dropped.
Arthur shouted, “Move!”
Dominic grabbed my hand.
“Downstairs. Now.”
I held onto the report.
“No.”
“Clara.”
“I need answers.”
“You need to survive.”
Another burst of gunfire shattered the hallway.
Dominic pulled me behind the desk.
Luca fired toward the windows while Arthur moved toward the rear exit.
Ethan crouched beside me.
“Clara, give me the report.”
“No.”
“Someone is trying to kill us.”
“I know.”
“They’ll take it.”
“Then they’ll have to take me with it.”
Dominic heard me.
His expression changed.
“Not happening.”
He took the report from my hand and folded it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“We keep moving.”
Victor suddenly grabbed Dominic’s shoulder.
“Not that way.”
Dominic turned.
“Why?”
“They’re waiting downstairs.”
Arthur looked toward Victor.
“How do you know?”
“Because I helped design this house.”
Everyone froze.
“You what?”
Victor pointed toward the wall behind the bookshelf.
“There’s another exit.”
Dominic stared at him.
“You’ve been here before.”
“Many times.”
“When?”
Victor’s eyes darkened.
“Before Clara was born.”
He pressed his palm against a wooden panel.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
A hidden lock clicked.
The bookshelf shifted.
A narrow passage appeared behind it.
Luca stared.
“Your mother knew about this?”
Victor nodded.
“Evelyn built it.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Stay with me.”
I nodded.
We entered the passage.
It was narrow and dark, barely wide enough for two people.
Arthur went first.
Luca followed.
Then Ethan.
Helen stayed close behind me.
Dominic came last.
The hidden door closed behind us.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Dominic asked:
“Isabella.”
Victor kept walking.
“She was eight.”
“Like Luca.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“She disappeared.”
Dominic’s voice hardened.
“You told me she died.”
“I told you what Michael wanted you to believe.”
Dominic stopped.
The entire group halted.
“What happened to my sister?”
Victor turned.
“Your father believed the Morettis had taken her.”
“But she was my sister.”
“She was also the daughter of a woman who knew too much.”
I felt a chill.
“My mother.”
Victor nodded.
“Evelyn was there when Isabella disappeared.”
Dominic’s face went pale.
“What did she see?”
“Two cars.”
“Whose?”
“One belonged to Michael Rossi.”
“And the other?”
“Vincent Moretti.”
My heart tightened.
“My father.”
Victor nodded.
“They were enemies.”
“Then why were they together?”
“Because they were both looking for the same thing.”
“What?”
Victor looked at me.
“You.”
I shook my head.
“I wasn’t even born.”
“Your mother was pregnant.”
The tunnel seemed to become smaller.
Dominic stared at him.
“You’re saying Michael and Vincent were fighting over an unborn child?”
“No.”
Victor’s voice dropped.
“They were fighting over what the child represented.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“What did I represent?”
Victor looked away.
“Proof.”
“Of what?”
“That Michael Rossi had betrayed his own family.”
Nobody spoke.
The tunnel lights flickered.
Victor continued.
“Michael and Vincent had once worked together.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“My father worked with a Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“For years.”
“Then why did they become enemies?”
“Because Michael stole something.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“The ledger everyone keeps talking about.”
Victor nodded.
“But the ledger wasn’t financial.”
“Then what was it?”
“Names.”
“What names?”
“Children.”
My stomach dropped.
Victor continued.
“Children born to women connected to powerful families. Children whose identities were changed. Children hidden to protect alliances.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because bloodlines mattered.”
Dominic looked disgusted.
“My father was selling children?”
“No.”
Victor shook his head.
“He was controlling information about them.”
“Why?”
“Because knowing who belonged to whom gave him leverage.”
Luca leaned against the wall.
“And Clara?”
“She was the biggest secret.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because Vincent Moretti had a daughter.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Victor looked directly at me.
“Vincent Moretti had two daughters.”
My breath caught.
“Twins.”
Dominic’s eyes closed.
For the first time, he looked genuinely broken.
“What happened to the other baby?”
Victor said nothing.
I already knew.
“Isabella.”
He nodded.
“She was born first.”
Dominic looked at him sharply.
“Then why was Clara the one who survived?”
Victor’s expression changed.
“That is the wrong question.”
“What’s the right one?”
“Who decided which twin would disappear?”
A distant gunshot echoed through the tunnel.
Arthur looked back.
“They found the house.”
“We move,” Dominic said.
We continued.
My mind raced.
Two daughters.
One hidden.
One raised by Evelyn and Thomas.
A dead Rossi sister.
A Moretti father.
A connection to Dominic.
None of it should have been possible.
Then I remembered something.
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“The photograph.”
“Which one?”
“The one from the alley.”
He looked at me.
“There was someone else in it.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Victor?”
Victor stopped.
His silence answered.
“You know.”
He slowly turned.
“That photograph was taken by Isabella.”
My heart stopped.
“Before she disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“Then she was alive seven years ago.”
Victor nodded.
“She was.”
Dominic stared at him.
“You knew my sister was alive.”
“Yes.”
“For seven years?”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe she was dead.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps using that excuse.”
Victor lowered his eyes.
“I failed.”
They reached the end of the tunnel.
A steel door waited ahead.
Arthur opened it.
We emerged behind an abandoned warehouse three blocks from my childhood home.
Black SUVs were already moving through the streets.
Someone had anticipated our escape.
Dominic looked around.
“Cars?”
Arthur pointed.
“Two blocks east.”
We ran.
I heard footsteps behind us.
Someone was following.
Luca turned and fired.
The pursuer disappeared behind a building.
“Keep moving!”
We reached the vehicles.
Dominic opened the rear door for me.
I got inside.
He followed.
The moment the door closed, he looked at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then he reached into his jacket.
The DNA report.
He unfolded it.
“Isabella Moretti.”
I nodded.
“Your sister.”
“Yes.”
“Your mother’s name?”
“Evelyn.”
“Your father?”
“Vincent.”
He looked at the paper.
“Then why does the report say Isabella is your sister?”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He pointed to the second DNA comparison.
“This isn’t a parent-child test.”
I frowned.
He handed me the page.
The comparison was between me and Isabella.
The result said:
FULL SIBLING MATCH — 99.9998%.
I looked at Dominic.
“What does that mean?”
“It means the test was done between two sisters.”
“But you said she was your sister.”
“She was.”
“So?”
His eyes met mine.
“Then Isabella wasn’t a Rossi by blood.”
The car became silent.
My heart began racing.
“What?”
“She was raised as my sister.”
“But if she was my twin…”
Dominic stared at me.
“Then she was never my biological sister.”
I felt dizzy.
Victor had lied.
Everyone had.
The woman Dominic believed was his sister might have been someone else entirely.
Someone connected to me.
Someone who had been hidden inside the Rossi family.
The car suddenly stopped.
Arthur looked through the windshield.
A black sedan blocked the road.
Three men stepped out.
Dominic reached for his weapon.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A woman's voice came through.
“Dominic.”
His entire body froze.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it once before.
From the elevator.
The voice that sounded like my mother.
Dominic looked at me.
The woman spoke again.
“You finally found your sister.”
I grabbed the phone.
“Who are you?”
Silence.
Then:
“Clara.”
My heart stopped.
“You have my mother’s voice.”
A soft laugh.
“Because Evelyn taught me how to sound like her.”
I looked at Dominic.
“Who are you?”
The woman answered:
“Ask Victor why he erased my name from the birth records.”
Victor, sitting in the front seat, suddenly closed his eyes.
The woman continued.
“And ask Dominic why he promised to kill me twenty-eight years ago.”
The call ended.
Nobody moved.
Dominic slowly turned toward Victor.
“Isabella.”
Victor looked at him.
“No.”
Dominic’s voice became deadly calm.
“Then who was that?”
Victor’s face had gone completely white.
“She isn’t Isabella.”
“Who is she?”
Victor looked at me.
May you like
And whispered:
“The woman who raised your twin.”
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