Chapter 5 - A Kiss, a Betrayal, and a Missing Witness
"Dante, don't let the doors open!"
Anna Foster grabbed the emergency control panel as the elevator shuddered.
A woman's voice had just whispered Dante Moretti's name from the other side.
Then the doors opened.
And Anna saw someone she had spent eleven years believing was dead.
Her mother.
Annabelle Foster stood in the dimly lit corridor, holding a small silver locket.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Anna stared at the woman.
The same auburn hair.
The same warm brown eyes.
The same familiar expression that had appeared in every childhood photograph hanging in Anna's apartment.
But the face was older now.
There were fine lines around her eyes, silver strands in her hair, and a sadness that seemed permanently carved into her features.
"Anna."
The woman extended one trembling hand.
Anna stepped backward.
"No."
Her mother stopped.
"Sweetheart—"
"Don't call me that!"
Dante looked between them.
His expression hardened.
"Who are you?"
The woman lowered her hand.
"Annabelle Foster."
Anna shook her head violently.
"No. My mother is dead."
Annabelle's eyes filled with tears.
"I know what they told you."
"I buried you!"
Anna's voice echoed through the corridor.
"I stood beside your coffin! I watched my father fall apart! I spent eleven years wishing I could hear your voice again!"
Annabelle covered her mouth.
Anna stepped forward.
"And now you just appear?"
Dante moved his wheelchair out of the elevator.
"Anna, stay behind me."
She barely heard him.
Her entire world had narrowed to the woman standing beneath the flickering corridor lights.
"Where were you?"
Annabelle swallowed.
"Trying to keep you alive."
Anna laughed bitterly.
"That's supposed to explain eleven years?"
"No."
"Then explain it!"
Before Annabelle could answer, a metallic sound echoed from the far end of the corridor.
Dante turned immediately.
"Who's there?"
A security door slammed shut.
Annabelle's expression changed.
"We don't have much time."
Dante looked directly at her.
"Then you'd better start talking."
The old medical wing had been closed for years.
Or at least that was what Dante had been told.
But as he moved farther into the corridor, he noticed something disturbing.
The floors were clean.
The overhead lights worked.
The security cameras were new.
Someone had been maintaining this place.
Recently.
Annabelle noticed him examining the walls.
"Your uncle never closed this wing."
Dante stopped.
"What?"
"He simply made certain you never came down here."
Anna folded her arms.
"Where's my sister?"
Annabelle looked toward a door at the end of the hallway.
"Claire is safe."
Anna's expression hardened.
"Then take me to her."
"Anna, please. There are things you need to understand first."
"No!"
Anna stepped closer.
"You don't get to disappear for eleven years and then tell me to be patient!"
Annabelle flinched.
Dante watched her carefully.
"She's right. We need answers."
Annabelle looked toward him.
For a moment, her expression softened.
"You look so much like your father."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"Don't."
"He was a good man."
"Then why did he die believing someone had interfered with my treatment?"
Annabelle's face went pale.
Anna noticed immediately.
"You know."
Her mother looked away.
"You know what happened to him!"
Annabelle slowly nodded.
"Yes."
Dante became completely still.
"Then tell me."
She took a shaky breath.
"Your father discovered that Richard and Lorenzo were using Westbridge to obtain control over the financial affairs of vulnerable patients."
Dante stared at her.
"That's what Evelyn told us."
Annabelle shook her head.
"She didn't tell you everything."
"What else?"
Annabelle looked directly into his eyes.
"Your father discovered they were doing the same thing to you."
Silence.
Dante's fingers tightened around his wheelchair's armrests.
Anna watched his expression.
For six years, he'd believed his family had sacrificed their own ambitions to protect him.
Now he was discovering that his dependence might have been exactly what certain family members wanted.
"Show me the evidence," he said.
Annabelle glanced toward the medical wing.
"That's why I brought you here."
The room behind the first security door resembled a small private hospital.
There were examination tables, medical cabinets, computer monitors, and locked storage units.
Anna immediately noticed the equipment.
It was modern.
Expensive.
And far too well maintained for an abandoned medical facility.
"Who's been using this place?" she demanded.
Annabelle approached a desk.
"Richard."
Dante looked around.
"For what?"
"Private consultations. Medical assessments. Records he didn't want stored in the main hospital system."
Anna felt sick.
"You're saying he continued operating a medical facility inside this estate?"
Annabelle nodded.
"Under the supervision of a physician who worked for Westbridge."
Dante's expression darkened.
"Name."
"Dr. Samuel Voss."
Dante froze.
Anna turned toward him.
"You know him?"
He nodded slowly.
"He supervised my rehabilitation for almost four years."
Annabelle looked devastated.
"He was supposed to help you."
Dante laughed without humor.
"Apparently everyone was."
Anna moved closer to him.
She wanted to touch his shoulder.
Instead, she asked.
"Are you okay?"
He looked up.
"No."
His honesty caught her off guard.
Then he added, "But I'm going to be."
Annabelle unlocked a drawer.
Inside were several folders and an old external hard drive.
She placed them on the desk.
"These are copies of the records I collected before I disappeared."
Anna stared at the documents.
"You've had them all this time?"
"Not all of them. Some were recovered recently."
"Then why didn't you go to the police?"
Annabelle looked toward Dante.
"Because the first time I tried, someone warned me that my daughters would disappear."
Anna stopped breathing.
Her mother continued.
"I was told that if I contacted you, Claire, or anyone connected to the Moretti family, you would both be in danger."
Anna shook her head.
"You could have found another way."
"I tried."
"For eleven years?"
Annabelle's eyes filled.
"I know you hate me."
Anna looked away.
She wanted to say she didn't.
But she couldn't.
Not yet.
Dante examined the first folder.
It contained medical evaluations from the months following his accident.
He recognized his own signature on several pages.
Then he noticed something strange.
Two assessments carried the same date.
But their conclusions were completely different.
The first recommended continued rehabilitation, independent mobility training, and a gradual return to executive responsibilities.
The second recommended indefinite medical supervision and extensive restrictions on professional activity.
Dante placed them side by side.
"Which one is genuine?"
Annabelle pointed toward the first.
"That was your treating specialist's original assessment."
Dante studied the second.
"And this?"
"The version submitted to your family trustees."
Anna leaned closer.
Her stomach twisted.
Someone had altered Dante's medical records to justify restrictions on his independence.
But there was something even more disturbing.
The second report contained a signature.
Dr. Samuel Voss.
Anna looked toward Annabelle.
"Did he know?"
Her mother nodded.
"He authorized the revised documents."
Dante closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he quietly asked, "Did my father know?"
Annabelle hesitated.
"He found out."
"When?"
"Approximately two weeks before his death."
Dante looked up.
"And what happened?"
Annabelle swallowed.
"He confronted Richard."
The room became silent.
Dante leaned forward.
"Tell me exactly what happened."
Annabelle opened another folder.
Inside was a photograph.
Dante's father stood outside Westbridge beside Richard and Lorenzo.
The photograph had been taken eight years earlier.
Annabelle pointed toward Lorenzo.
"Your brother was responsible for transferring several of the family's investment accounts into a private holding company."
Dante frowned.
"Moretti Capital Holdings."
"Yes."
Anna remembered the bank account opened under her name.
The same company.
The same financial network.
Everything was connected.
Dante examined the photograph.
"My father would never have authorized those transfers without reviewing them."
Annabelle looked at him.
"He didn't."
Dante slowly raised his eyes.
"What?"
"His signature was copied."
Anna's phone vibrated.
Claire.
Her heart jumped.
She answered immediately.
"Claire!"
"Anna?"
Her sister sounded frightened.
Anna pressed the phone against her ear.
"Oh, thank God. Where are you?"
"I don't know."
Anna went cold.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm in some kind of medical room. A woman brought me here and told me to wait."
Anna looked toward Annabelle.
Her mother shook her head.
"I didn't bring her here."
Anna's stomach dropped.
"Claire, listen carefully. Is the door locked?"
"I think so."
"Can you see anything outside?"
Claire moved.
Anna heard footsteps.
Then her sister whispered, "There's someone coming."
"Claire?"
A door opened on the other end.
Claire gasped.
The call disconnected.
Anna stared at her phone.
Then she turned toward her mother.
"You said she was safe!"
Annabelle looked horrified.
"She was supposed to be!"
"Supposed to be?"
Dante immediately reached for his phone.
"Victor."
The security chief answered after two rings.
"Sir?"
"Get down to the old medical wing. Bring the security team."
Victor hesitated.
"Sir, I need you to leave that area immediately."
Dante frowned.
"Why?"
"Because someone just disabled the estate's main surveillance system."
Dante looked toward the ceiling camera.
Its indicator light was dark.
Anna felt a chill.
"Victor, where are you?" Dante demanded.
"Approaching the service entrance."
"Find Claire Foster."
"I'm trying."
Dante ended the call.
Then he looked toward Annabelle.
"How many exits?"
"Three."
"Which one leads to the lower treatment rooms?"
Annabelle pointed toward a second corridor.
"That way."
Anna immediately started walking.
Dante followed.
"Anna, wait."
She stopped.
He looked up at her.
"We do this together."
She swallowed.
Then nodded.
They found Claire fifteen minutes later.
She was sitting inside a locked examination room, crying.
Victor had reached the lower corridor before them and was speaking to a frightened security employee.
When Anna saw her sister through the glass, she nearly collapsed.
"Claire!"
Her sister looked up.
"Anna!"
Victor unlocked the door.
Anna rushed inside.
Claire threw herself into her arms.
For several seconds, neither could speak.
Anna held her younger sister tightly.
She remembered carrying Claire to bed when she was little.
Helping her with homework.
Sitting beside her during their father's funeral.
Promising that no matter what happened, they would always have each other.
Now someone had threatened to take Claire away from her.
And Anna was finished being frightened into silence.
"Who brought you here?" she demanded.
Claire wiped her cheeks.
"A woman."
"What woman?"
"She said she worked for your employer."
Anna's expression hardened.
"What did she look like?"
Claire hesitated.
"She looked like you."
Anna froze.
Dante moved closer.
"Are you certain?"
Claire nodded.
"Same hair. Same face. She even knew your birthday."
Anna felt cold.
The woman from the security footage.
The woman wearing her mother's necklace.
The woman someone had deliberately made look like her.
"Where did she go?" Dante asked.
Claire pointed toward the corridor.
"She left when someone called her."
"Did you hear a name?"
Claire shook her head.
Then she hesitated.
"Actually..."
Anna gripped her hand.
"What?"
"She said something before she left."
Dante leaned forward.
"What did she say?"
Claire swallowed.
"She said she was tired of pretending to be someone else's daughter."
Anna stared at her.
Then Annabelle made a small, strangled sound.
Everyone turned.
Her face had gone completely white.
Anna looked at her mother.
"You know who she is."
Annabelle shook her head.
"Not here."
Anna stepped closer.
"Mom."
Annabelle's eyes filled.
"Please."
"Who is she?"
Her mother looked toward Dante.
Then she whispered, "Someone your father tried to protect."
By the time they returned to the main residence, it was nearly two in the morning.
Victor had arranged additional security.
Claire was taken to a private guest suite, where Anna personally checked every lock and window.
Annabelle remained downstairs under protection.
Dante refused to leave his office.
When Anna entered, she found him sitting beside the enormous windows.
His tuxedo jacket hung over the back of a nearby chair.
The same jacket he'd struggled to put on earlier.
The sight made her chest ache.
"You're supposed to be resting," she said.
Dante looked up.
"So are you."
She approached.
"Claire finally fell asleep."
"Good."
Anna sat beside him.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Dante looked toward the jacket.
"Six years."
Anna followed his gaze.
"What?"
"Six years of believing my family knew what was best for me."
His voice was quiet.
"They made every decision sound reasonable."
Anna listened.
"They told me the business would overwhelm me. That public appearances would exhaust me. That I needed more treatment before I could manage my own affairs."
He laughed bitterly.
"And every time I tried to question them, they reminded me how fortunate I was to have people willing to sacrifice so much for me."
Anna reached for his hand.
This time, he took it immediately.
"You trusted them."
"They're my family."
"I know."
He looked at her.
"Your mother lied to you for eleven years."
Anna lowered her eyes.
"Yes."
"Do you still love her?"
She considered the question.
Then nodded.
"I think so."
"Even after everything?"
"Love doesn't disappear just because someone disappoints you."
Dante studied her face.
Anna smiled sadly.
"But trust is another matter."
He gently squeezed her hand.
"Do you trust me?"
She looked directly into his eyes.
"Yes."
"Even though my family is responsible for everything happening to you?"
"You're not your family."
Something changed in his expression.
He reached toward her cheek.
Then stopped.
"May I?"
Anna's heart accelerated.
She nodded.
Dante gently brushed a loose strand of auburn hair away from her face.
For several seconds, they simply looked at each other.
Anna knew she should stand.
She was his nurse.
He was her patient.
Their lives were already complicated enough.
But the professional boundaries she'd worked so hard to maintain had become increasingly difficult to ignore.
"Dante..."
He immediately lowered his hand.
"I'm sorry."
She shook her head.
"Don't apologize."
"Anna, I don't want you to feel obligated to—"
"I don't."
His expression softened.
She took a shaky breath.
"That's what scares me."
Dante looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because I don't know how to separate what I'm feeling from everything that's happening."
He nodded slowly.
"Neither do I."
Anna looked down at their joined hands.
Then she stood.
"I think we need to make a decision."
Dante's expression became guarded.
"What kind of decision?"
"About my position here."
He went completely still.
"You're leaving?"
"No."
She shook her head.
"But I can't keep being your nurse while pretending there's nothing happening between us."
Dante studied her.
Then he nodded.
"You're right."
Anna swallowed.
"I can help arrange another qualified nurse. Someone independent of your family."
"And you?"
She looked at him.
"I'd like to stay."
His expression changed.
"Not because I'm your patient?"
Anna smiled faintly.
"No."
Dante reached for her hand again.
This time, she moved closer.
Their first kiss was gentle.
Brief.
And entirely different from the dramatic moment Anna had imagined.
There was no grand declaration.
No promise that everything would be easy.
Just two exhausted people finding something worth protecting.
When they separated, Dante rested his forehead lightly against hers.
"Anna?"
"Yes?"
"I'm going to ask you something."
She smiled.
"What?"
"When all this is over, will you let me take you to dinner?"
Anna laughed softly.
"Are you asking me on a date?"
"I'm trying."
"You're doing surprisingly well."
He smiled.
"Is that a yes?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
For the first time that night, Dante looked genuinely happy.
Then someone knocked.
Victor entered carrying a sealed evidence bag.
His expression immediately destroyed the moment.
"Sir, we have a problem."
Dante sighed.
"Apparently that's becoming your favorite sentence."
Victor didn't smile.
Anna straightened.
"What happened?"
Victor placed the evidence bag on the desk.
Inside was a small electronic storage device.
"We recovered this from the medical wing."
Dante examined it.
"What is it?"
"A backup drive."
Anna leaned closer.
Victor continued.
"It contains surveillance footage from the night of your accident."
Dante became completely still.
"Six years ago?"
Victor nodded.
"Someone preserved the original recording."
Anna felt her heartbeat accelerate.
"Have you watched it?"
"Only the beginning."
Dante looked up.
"Why?"
Victor hesitated.
"Because there's something you need to see for yourself."
He connected the drive to Dante's laptop.
A video appeared.
A parking garage.
A black luxury vehicle.
A younger Dante walking toward the driver's side.
Anna gripped the edge of the desk.
The timestamp appeared.
Six years earlier.
11:37 P.M.
Dante stopped breathing.
On the screen, another vehicle entered the garage.
A man stepped out.
Richard Moretti.
Anna looked toward Dante.
His face had become completely expressionless.
Then a second person emerged from the passenger side.
Lorenzo.
Dante whispered, "What the hell?"
The recording continued.
Richard and Lorenzo approached Dante's vehicle.
They appeared to argue.
Dante pointed toward the exit.
Lorenzo grabbed his arm.
Anna covered her mouth.
Then another person entered the frame.
A woman.
She wore a white medical coat.
Annabelle Foster.
Anna stared at the screen.
"Mom?"
Dante leaned closer.
The woman approached Richard.
She handed him an envelope.
Richard opened it.
Then looked toward Lorenzo.
The recording suddenly froze.
Victor frowned.
"That's strange."
He pressed several keys.
The image flickered.
Then another file appeared.
An audio recording.
Dante immediately recognized the first voice.
His father.
"Richard, if anything happens to my son, I will make sure the entire world knows what you've done."
Another voice answered.
Richard.
"Then perhaps you should have signed the agreement."
A third voice interrupted.
Lorenzo.
"Dad, please. We can still fix this."
Anna looked toward Dante.
His expression had changed.
Not anger.
Something closer to devastation.
Then a fourth voice spoke.
A woman's voice.
"Stop the recording."
Victor froze.
Anna stared at the laptop.
The woman continued.
"If Dante ever hears what happened that night, he'll know who arranged the accident."
Dante leaned forward.
"Who is that?"
Victor didn't answer.
The audio crackled.
Then the woman spoke again.
And Anna recognized her voice.
It was the same woman who had impersonated her in the security footage.
But before Anna could say anything, Dante's office door opened.
Annabelle stood in the doorway.
Her face was pale.
She looked at the laptop.
Then at Dante.
"Turn that off."
Dante stared at her.
"Why?"
Annabelle's eyes filled with tears.
"Because the next voice you're going to hear..."
She stopped.
Anna slowly stood.
"Mom?"
Annabelle looked directly at Dante.
And whispered:
"Belongs to the person you trusted most."
Victor reached toward the laptop.
The recording continued playing.
A man's voice emerged from the speakers.
"Everything is ready. He'll never suspect me."
Dante's expression changed.
He knew that voice.
May you like
Anna turned toward Victor.
His hand was already reaching for the laptop's power button.
