Chapter 4 - The Mafia Boss Who Started Watching Her
The old woman stood at the top of the staircase, gripping the wooden railing: "I saw what they did to your mother." When Vincent Moretti brought her into his private office, he discovered a hidden recording device inside Isabella Marlowe’s old jewelry box. But the final recording contained only one warning: "Never trust the woman closest to Vincent." Vincent realized the betrayal had never left his mansion.
Nobody moved.
The old woman’s words remained hanging in the air.
Your mother.
Not Isabella.
Not the servant.
Not the woman everyone had erased from history.
Your mother.
Elena stared at her.
Her lips parted slightly.
For years, she had imagined this moment.
Finding someone who knew Isabella.
Finding someone who could tell her the truth.
But she never imagined the first person would appear inside the Moretti mansion.
The woman slowly walked down the stairs.
Each step echoed through the silent hall.
The servants watched her with fear.
Because everyone recognized her.
Her name was Margaret Hale.
The former head housekeeper of the Moretti family.
The woman who disappeared the same night Isabella Marlowe vanished.
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
"Margaret."
She stopped.
For a moment, sadness crossed her face.
"You still remember me."
"I remember everyone who betrayed my family."
Margaret looked at him.
And instead of fear, there was disappointment.
"That is exactly what they wanted you to believe."
The servants looked at each other.
Nobody dared speak.
Vincent stepped forward.
"Explain."
Margaret looked at Elena.
Then back at Vincent.
"Not here."
Celeste immediately moved closer.
"Why not?"
Margaret's eyes turned toward her.
And something about that look changed the atmosphere.
Like she knew something.
Something dangerous.
"Because some people in this room already know the truth."
Celeste's expression remained calm.
But her fingers tightened around her necklace.
Vincent noticed.
He noticed everything.
"Everyone leaves."
The order was immediate.
The servants quickly disappeared.
Within seconds, only Vincent, Elena, Celeste, and Margaret remained.
Vincent looked at Margaret.
"Start talking."
Margaret looked at Elena.
"Your mother loved you more than anything."
Elena swallowed.
"Why did she leave me?"
The old woman’s face softened.
"She didn't."
The answer broke something inside Elena.
"Then why did everyone tell me she abandoned me?"
Margaret looked down.
"Because they needed you to hate her."
Silence.
Vincent stepped closer.
"Who?"
Margaret hesitated.
And that hesitation told him enough.
"Margaret."
She looked at him.
"Your father."
Vincent froze.
The words were quiet.
But they changed everything.
"My father killed Isabella?"
"No."
Margaret shook her head.
"He tried to save her."
Vincent frowned.
"Then who did?"
Margaret looked toward the ceiling.
Like she was afraid someone could hear.
"The person who controlled your father."
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone knew what that meant.
Someone had power over the Moretti family.
Someone who wasn't supposed to exist.
Inside Vincent’s office, Margaret placed an old jewelry box on the desk.
Elena stared at it.
"My mother’s?"
Margaret nodded.
"She gave it to me before she disappeared."
Vincent opened the box.
Inside were old pieces of jewelry.
A necklace.
A ring.
And a small hidden compartment.
Margaret pressed the side.
A tiny device appeared.
A recording chip.
Vincent looked at it.
"Your mother recorded this?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you bring it before?"
Margaret looked at him.
"Because I wasn't sure who I could trust."
Vincent inserted the chip into the old player.
A woman's voice filled the room.
A voice Elena had not heard in years.
Her mother.
"Elena, if you are hearing this, then something happened to me."
Elena covered her mouth.
Her eyes immediately filled with tears.
Vincent stayed silent.
The recording continued.
"First, I want you to know one thing."
A pause.
"I never left you."
Elena closed her eyes.
A tear fell.
"I wanted to come back."
The recording became weaker.
"But they knew."
Static.
"They knew about the documents."
Vincent leaned closer.
"What documents?"
The recording continued.
"The Moretti empire was not built the way everyone believes."
A long pause.
"Your father trusted the wrong person, Vincent."
Vincent looked up.
The room became cold.
Then Isabella said the sentence that made everyone freeze.
"Never trust the woman closest to Vincent."
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Because there was only one woman standing close enough.
One woman who had always been beside him.
Celeste.
The silence lasted too long.
Celeste slowly looked at Vincent.
"You believe this?"
Vincent didn't answer.
That hurt her more than an accusation.
"After everything we've built together?"
He looked at her.
"Did you know Isabella?"
Celeste's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Elena noticed.
Margaret noticed.
Vincent noticed most.
Celeste laughed softly.
"You are asking me if I knew a woman who worked for your family fifteen years ago?"
"Yes."
"And you believe a dead woman's recording over me?"
Vincent's voice remained calm.
"I believe evidence."
Celeste stared at him.
For the first time, she looked less like a powerful woman.
And more like someone cornered.
"You have no idea what you are uncovering."
"Then explain."
She looked away.
That was the first time she couldn't answer immediately.
That night, Vincent couldn't sleep.
Every memory felt different.
Every conversation.
Every warning.
Every missing piece.
He returned to the office.
The recording played again.
Never trust the woman closest to Vincent.
He hated that one sentence.
Because it could mean anyone.
A family member.
A business partner.
A servant.
Or Celeste.
He looked at the old photograph.
Then he noticed something.
The photograph from the hidden box.
The one with Isabella holding his hand.
There was writing on the back.
He turned it over.
Only four words.
Look behind the portrait.
Vincent immediately stood.
The old family portrait in the hallway.
The one where Isabella had been removed.
He walked toward it.
His hand reached behind the frame.
His fingers touched something.
A folded document.
Hidden for fifteen years.
He opened it.
And his face changed.
Because it was not a letter.
It was a legal document.
A birth record.
A record that had been sealed.
A record with one name.
Elena Marlowe.
And beside it...
Father:
Vincent Moretti Senior.
Vincent stared.
Unable to breathe.
Because the document claimed something impossible.
Elena was not just Isabella’s daughter.
She was connected to the Moretti family by blood.
Before Vincent could process what he had found, his phone vibrated.
One message.
Unknown number.
He opened it.
A photograph appeared.
A photograph taken inside the mansion.
Minutes ago.
It showed Vincent holding the birth record.
The sender had been watching him.
Then another message appeared.
"You finally found the truth."
A second message arrived.
"But you haven't found the person who hid it."
Vincent looked toward the dark hallway.
The mansion was silent.
Too silent.
Then the lights suddenly went out.
And from the darkness came a familiar voice.
May you like
"Looking for me, Vincent?"
It was Celeste.
