Chapter 4 - The Doctor Who Lied
Marco moved instantly.
He pulled Elena behind him as a flashlight beam cut through the darkness.
“Don’t move,” he said.
The man in the doorway laughed quietly.
“Still giving orders, Marco?”
Marco knew the voice too.
Dr. Gabriel Vale.
For twenty-five years, Vale had treated members of the Moretti family.
He had been present when Sofia died.
He had signed Lucia Rossi’s death certificate the previous year.
He had attended Marco’s engagement party less than an hour ago.
“Gabriel.”
The flashlight shifted.
Dr. Vale stood in the doorway holding no visible weapon.
Marco did not relax.
“What are you doing here?”
Vale looked at Elena.
“Correcting a mistake.”
Marco stepped forward.
“You have one chance to explain that sentence.”
Vale lowered the flashlight.
“You should let her finish the letter.”
Elena held the paper tightly.
“You lied about my mother’s death.”
Vale’s face remained calm.
“No.”
“You said cancer.”
“She had cancer.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because cancer wasn’t the only thing killing her.”
Elena stared.
Marco’s voice hardened.
“Talk.”
Vale entered slowly.
“Lucia contacted me six weeks before she died.”
“Why?”
“She believed someone was monitoring her medication.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“She didn’t know.”
“Did you test it?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Nothing unusual.”
Elena exhaled.
Vale continued.
“Until three days before she died.”
Her eyes snapped back to him.
“What happened?”
“A bottle of pain medication was replaced.”
“With what?”
“A higher concentration.”
Marco understood first.
“Enough to kill her?”
“Yes.”
Elena stepped backward.
“You knew.”
“I found the bottle after she died.”
“And you still wrote cancer on the certificate.”
Vale’s jaw tightened.
“She was already terminal.”
“That doesn’t matter!”
“No.”
For the first time, his composure cracked.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Then why?”
“Because Lucia told me if anything suspicious happened, I was to say nothing until Elena was inside Villa Moretti.”
Elena stared at him.
“What?”
“She wanted you here.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It will when you finish reading.”
Elena looked down.
The next lines blurred through tears.
You may believe I wanted you far from Villa Moretti. For years, I did. But before I became ill, I learned Salvatore DeLuca had found you. If you stayed outside, you would be alone. Inside Marco’s house, at least someone powerful enough to stop him would be close.
Elena looked at Marco.
He appeared equally stunned.
She continued.
Marco is not his father. Sofia knew that before she died. I watched him from afar as he grew into a man who fought to undo what Vittorio built. If I am gone, trust Marco only after he proves he deserves it.
Marco gave a humorless breath.
“Your mother had standards.”
Despite everything, Elena almost smiled.
Then she read the next paragraph.
There is another reason Salvatore fears you.
Elena stopped.
Vale looked away.
Marco noticed.
“What?”
Elena read silently.
Her face drained of color.
Marco touched her arm.
“Elena?”
She lifted her eyes.
“My father.”
“What about him?”
“She says my father wasn’t who I was told.”
Marco waited.
Elena’s voice barely worked.
“My mother told me he died before I was born.”
Vale closed his eyes.
Elena read aloud.
Your father is alive.
The room went silent.
Marco looked at Vale.
“Who?”
Vale shook his head.
“That isn’t mine to tell.”
Elena stepped toward him.
“You signed my mother’s death certificate. You entered her secret room. You knew this letter existed. You don’t get to decide what belongs to me.”
Vale looked at her.
“You’re right.”
“Then tell me.”
He inhaled slowly.
“Your father was Vittorio Moretti’s younger brother.”
Marco stared.
“My uncle?”
“Lorenzo.”
Marco’s mind raced.
Lorenzo Moretti had vanished before Marco was born.
Family stories said he had betrayed Vittorio.
Some claimed he ran to South America.
Others said Vittorio killed him.
No one spoke his name.
Elena looked between them.
“So Marco and I are—”
“Second cousins,” Vale said.
Elena blinked.
Marco actually laughed once.
Not from humor.
From the sheer absurdity of the day.
Isabella had spent months accusing Elena of trying to seduce him.
Now the truth made those accusations even more grotesque.
Elena seemed to have the same thought.
“Well,” she muttered, “that makes the jealousy even more ridiculous.”
Marco looked at her.
“You’re joking?”
“I’m trying not to scream.”
“Fair.”
Vale continued.
“Lorenzo discovered Vittorio and Salvatore were moving money through shell companies.”
Marco’s expression hardened.
“My father worked with Salvatore?”
“Yes.”
“Carlo said Salvatore stole from us.”
“Both are true.”
Vale explained.
Vittorio had allowed Salvatore to manage certain hidden accounts.
Years later, Salvatore began diverting money.
Sofia found evidence.
Lorenzo found more.
Lucia helped them document it.
Then Lorenzo disappeared.
“What happened to him?” Elena asked.
Vale hesitated.
“No one knows.”
“Another dead person who might not be dead?”
“Possibly.”
Marco rubbed his jaw.
“Wonderful.”
Footsteps sounded overhead.
Dante called down.
“Boss?”
Marco relaxed slightly.
“Down here.”
Dante entered with two guards.
“We secured Salvatore.”
Elena looked up.
“You found him?”
“He tried to reach the east dock.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Marco’s expression became cold.
“Good.”
Dante glanced at Vale.
“What is he doing here?”
“Apparently every person I’ve ever trusted has a secret basement role.”
Dante frowned.
Marco shook his head.
“Later.”
Elena folded the letter.
“Where’s Isabella?”
“Still guarded downstairs.”
“Keep her separated from her father,” Marco said.
Dante nodded.
“Already done.”
Marco turned to Elena.
“You don’t have to be there.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Your mother may have been murdered.”
“Exactly.”
“Elena—”
“No.”
Her voice was steady.
“I spent my entire life believing my father was dead. My mother died with secrets she thought would protect me. Teresa turned out to be my aunt. A man who was officially dead walked out of your basement. Your fiancée shoved me into a lake because she believed I knew something.”
“Former fiancée.”
She gave him an exhausted look.
“Still important?”
“Extremely.”
A faint smile touched her lips.
Then vanished.
“I’m not hiding now.”
Marco nodded.
“All right.”
They returned to the main floor.
The engagement party was gone.
No music.
No champagne.
No laughter.
Only security personnel and frightened staff.
Salvatore DeLuca sat in Marco’s study.
He was sixty-three.
Silver hair.
Expensive suit.
Perfect posture.
He looked less like a prisoner than a man waiting for a business meeting.
When Elena entered, he smiled.
“Lucia’s daughter.”
Marco’s hand closed around the back of a chair.
“You know her?”
“Of course.”
Elena remained near the door.
“Did you kill my mother?”
Salvatore tilted his head.
“No.”
“Did you replace her medication?”
“No.”
“Did Isabella push me because you told her to?”
His smile faded.
“No.”
Marco studied him.
Salvatore looked at Marco.
“Your fiancée has always had a temper.”
“Former fiancée.”
Salvatore almost laughed.
“So she really did ruin everything over the maid.”
Elena stepped forward.
“Why are you afraid of me?”
“I’m not.”
“Then why did you take Teresa?”
“I needed information.”
“About me?”
“About what Lucia left you.”
Marco leaned toward him.
“What did Lucia leave?”
Salvatore smiled.
“You don’t know.”
Marco’s silence answered.
“That means Carlo didn’t tell you everything.”
Carlo stood near the wall.
His face tightened.
Salvatore saw.
“Oh, Carlo.”
“Don’t.”
“You’ve been hiding twelve years and still haven’t learned when to stop lying.”
Marco turned to Carlo.
“What else?”
Carlo said nothing.
Salvatore laughed.
“Elena doesn’t just have evidence.”
Elena felt cold.
“What do I have?”
Salvatore looked at her.
“Ownership.”
Marco frowned.
“Of what?”
Salvatore leaned back.
“A controlling interest in Moretti Holdings.”
Nobody spoke.
Marco’s expression remained still, but Elena saw the shock.
“That’s impossible,” he said.
“Is it?”
“My father left the company to me.”
“Most of it.”
Salvatore nodded toward Elena.
“Not all.”
Carlo stepped forward.
“Sofia transferred shares before she died.”
“To Lucia?” Marco asked.
“To a trust,” Carlo said.
“Whose beneficiary?”
Carlo looked at Elena.
Marco exhaled.
“How much?”
“Thirty-one percent.”
Elena stared.
“I own thirty-one percent of his company?”
“Technically, yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since your twenty-fifth birthday.”
“That was four years ago!”
“You didn’t know.”
“No, apparently I’ve been very busy being protected by everyone lying to me.”
Salvatore smiled.
“And now you understand Isabella.”
Elena looked at him.
“The marriage.”
“Yes.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed.
“What about it?”
Salvatore seemed almost delighted to explain.
“Your engagement agreement included a restructuring of family assets after the wedding.”
Marco remembered.
His attorneys had drafted dozens of documents.
Isabella had insisted on combining certain charitable foundations and investment vehicles.
Nothing seemed unusual.
“The restructuring required approval from any hidden beneficiary holding more than twenty-five percent,” Salvatore continued.
Marco’s eyes shifted toward Elena.
“Her.”
“Yes.”
“But she didn’t know.”
“Exactly.”
“Then how could she approve anything?”
Salvatore’s smile became uglier.
“She couldn’t.”
Elena understood.
“So they needed me gone.”
Salvatore did not answer.
Marco’s voice dropped.
“Was Isabella supposed to kill her?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Salvatore’s amusement disappeared.
“I told you. My daughter has a temper.”
Elena thought of the push.
Isabella’s rage.
The shocked guests.
Maybe the shove had been impulsive.
Maybe not.
“Why hide the storage key in the lake?” Marco asked.
“Ask Carlo.”
Carlo’s eyes hardened.
“I already explained.”
“No, you explained Lucia hid it.”
Salvatore smiled.
“You didn’t explain what was on the second half.”
Marco looked at Carlo.
“What second half?”
Carlo seemed suddenly exhausted.
“The video file is encrypted in two sections.”
Dante nodded.
“Our team only opened the first.”
“What’s in the second?”
Carlo looked at Elena.
“Proof of who ordered Sofia’s death.”
Marco went still.
“Open it.”
“We need the password.”
“What password?”
Carlo swallowed.
“Lorenzo’s daughter’s full legal name.”
Elena frowned.
“My name is Elena Lucia Rossi.”
“No,” Carlo said.
Teresa began crying behind her.
Elena turned.
“What?”
Carlo looked at her.
“Rossi was Lucia’s name.”
“What was mine?”
Carlo answered.
“Elena Sofia Moretti.”
Marco closed his eyes.
The room went silent.
Then the laptop on Marco’s desk chimed.
Dante looked at the screen.
“The encryption unlocked.”
Marco stepped closer.
A video file appeared.
Date: August 11, 2015.
The night before Sofia Moretti died.
Marco pressed play.
His mother appeared on screen.
She looked terrified.
“If Marco is watching this,” Sofia whispered, “then Salvatore probably succeeded.”
Marco stopped breathing.
Sofia looked directly into the camera.
“But Salvatore was never the one giving the orders.”
A shadow moved behind her.
Sofia turned.
Someone entered the frame.
Marco’s face went white.
May you like
Because the man standing behind his mother was his own father.
And Vittorio Moretti was holding the bottle that killed her.
