Chapter 6 - The Secret Buried in His Father's Will
"Victor, take your hand off that computer!"
Dante Moretti's voice thundered through the office.
Victor Hale froze.
His fingers hovered above the laptop's power button.
On the screen, the surveillance recording continued playing.
"Everything is ready. He'll never suspect me."
Dante stared at his security chief.
Nine years.
Victor had been protecting him for nine years.
He had stood beside Dante's hospital bed after the accident. He had accompanied him to medical appointments, managed his security, and defended him during countless confrontations with his family.
And now his voice appeared in a recording connected to the night Dante nearly died.
"Tell me that wasn't you."
Victor slowly withdrew his hand.
Anna stood beside Dante's wheelchair, watching the two men.
Annabelle remained in the doorway.
Nobody moved.
Finally, Victor spoke.
"It was me."
Dante's expression hardened.
Anna felt her stomach drop.
"Victor," she whispered.
The security chief looked directly at Dante.
"But you need to hear the entire recording."
Dante laughed bitterly.
"Why? So you can explain how betraying me was actually another favor?"
Victor absorbed the accusation.
"I understand how this looks."
"No."
Dante moved his wheelchair closer.
"You don't understand anything."
His voice became dangerously quiet.
"You stood beside me while my family convinced me I couldn't manage my own life."
Victor lowered his eyes.
"You watched them make decisions for me."
"I know."
"You knew my medical records had been altered."
Victor said nothing.
Dante leaned forward.
"And now I'm discovering that you were involved before my accident even happened?"
Anna reached toward Dante's shoulder.
Then stopped.
This wasn't her decision to make.
He deserved to confront Victor himself.
"Play the rest," Dante ordered.
Victor hesitated.
Then he pressed the space bar.
The recording resumed.
"Everything is ready. He'll never suspect me."
Victor's younger voice emerged from the speakers.
A second man responded.
Richard Moretti.
"You're certain?"
"Absolutely."
"What about the cameras?"
"Already handled."
Anna felt sick.
Dante stared at the screen.
Then another voice interrupted.
His father's.
"Good. Because if Richard discovers what we're planning, he'll destroy everything."
Dante stopped breathing.
Anna looked toward him.
"What?"
Victor remained silent.
The recording continued.
Dante's father spoke again.
"Victor, I need you to make certain my son gets out of that garage safely."
Richard's voice suddenly returned.
"Who are you talking to?"
A sharp electronic sound followed.
Then the recording ended.
Dante stared at the laptop.
For several seconds, he seemed unable to process what he'd heard.
"That doesn't make sense."
Victor nodded.
"I know."
"My father was planning something with you?"
"Yes."
"Against Richard?"
Victor looked exhausted.
"Your father had discovered that Richard was transferring assets out of the family businesses. He suspected Lorenzo was helping him."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"So what were you supposed to do?"
"Help your father obtain evidence."
Anna looked toward Annabelle.
Her mother nodded reluctantly.
"Victor was working with us."
Dante turned sharply.
"You knew?"
Annabelle lowered her eyes.
"Your father trusted him."
Dante laughed.
"Apparently everyone trusted Victor."
The security chief didn't defend himself.
Instead, he opened another file.
"The recording you heard was assembled from several conversations. Someone removed the timestamps and placed the statements together."
Anna frowned.
"You're saying it was edited?"
"Yes."
"Can you prove it?"
Victor nodded.
"The original audio files contain separate timestamps. Your father's conversation happened almost three hours before Richard entered the garage."
Dante looked at him.
"Then why did you try to turn off the laptop?"
Victor hesitated.
"Because I recognized the file."
"And?"
"Because I knew what came next."
Anna felt a chill.
"What comes next?"
Victor looked toward Annabelle.
Her mother shook her head.
"Don't."
Dante's expression darkened.
"Play it."
Victor swallowed.
"Sir—"
"Play it."
The next recording began with the sound of a car engine.
Then a woman's voice.
Annabelle Foster.
"Dante, you shouldn't be here."
A younger Dante answered.
"My father asked me to meet him."
"Then wait outside."
"What's going on?"
Footsteps echoed.
A door slammed.
Then Lorenzo spoke.
"You're always interfering."
Dante's expression changed.
Anna watched him grip his wheelchair's armrests.
The recording continued.
Lorenzo sounded furious.
"Dad promised me that division!"
A second voice answered.
Dante's father.
"I promised you an opportunity. Not ownership."
"You gave Dante everything!"
"He earned his responsibilities."
Lorenzo laughed bitterly.
"Of course he did."
Then Richard interrupted.
"Enough. We can discuss this privately."
The recording became distorted.
A loud crash followed.
Then silence.
Anna covered her mouth.
Dante stared at the laptop.
"What happened?"
Victor looked toward him.
"The surveillance system stopped recording shortly afterward."
Dante's voice was barely audible.
"And my accident?"
"Approximately forty minutes later."
Annabelle stepped forward.
"Your father believed Lorenzo and Richard were planning to force you out of the family businesses."
Dante looked at her.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"He intended to."
"When?"
"The following morning."
Dante laughed without humor.
"But I never made it home."
Nobody answered.
For the first time, Anna understood the depth of Dante's betrayal.
His family hadn't merely taken advantage of his accident.
Someone might have anticipated it.
Someone had known exactly how vulnerable he would become.
And someone had spent six years ensuring that he never discovered the truth.
At three in the morning, Dante ordered everyone except Anna out of his office.
Victor protested.
"Sir, we still need to discuss—"
"Get out."
"Dante—"
"I said get out!"
Victor stopped.
For a moment, Anna thought he might argue.
Instead, he nodded.
"I'll be outside."
Annabelle looked toward her daughter.
"Anna, please. There's something I need to explain."
Anna's expression hardened.
"You've had eleven years."
Her mother flinched.
Anna immediately regretted the cruelty of her words.
But she couldn't take them back.
Not yet.
"Please give us some time," she said.
Annabelle nodded.
Then she left.
The door closed.
Silence settled over the office.
Dante sat beside the enormous windows, staring into the darkness.
Anna approached slowly.
"Do you want me to leave too?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he shook his head.
"No."
She sat beside him.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Finally, Dante looked toward her.
"Do you know what the worst part is?"
Anna waited.
"I keep trying to remember that night."
His voice cracked.
"I remember the garage. I remember arguing with Lorenzo. I remember getting into my car."
He closed his eyes.
"Then nothing."
Anna gently took his hand.
"Memory gaps after serious injuries can happen."
"I know."
"But not remembering doesn't mean you're responsible for what happened."
Dante looked at her.
"That's not what frightens me."
"What does?"
He swallowed.
"What if I remember something that proves my father was involved?"
Anna felt her chest tighten.
"Dante—"
"What if the man I've spent my entire life admiring was just as dishonest as everyone else?"
She considered his question.
Then she moved her chair closer.
"Then we'll deal with what the evidence shows."
He looked at her.
"We?"
Anna smiled faintly.
"Unless you've changed your mind about dinner."
For the first time in hours, Dante laughed.
It was brief.
Exhausted.
But genuine.
He gently squeezed her hand.
"I haven't."
"Good."
His expression softened.
"Anna?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for not treating me like something that needs fixing."
She leaned forward.
"You're welcome."
He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles.
Then his phone rang.
The moment disappeared.
The caller was a private attorney named Margaret Whitmore.
Dante recognized the name immediately.
She had represented his father for nearly thirty years.
He answered.
"Margaret?"
"Mr. Moretti. I'm sorry to contact you at this hour."
Dante frowned.
"What's happened?"
"I've been attempting to reach you for several days."
"Why?"
A pause.
"Your father's will."
Dante became still.
Anna noticed.
"What about it?"
Margaret lowered her voice.
"There's a confidential amendment that was never disclosed to you."
Dante stared at the phone.
"My father died eight years ago."
"I know."
"Why am I only hearing about this now?"
"Because the amendment contained specific conditions."
Dante's expression hardened.
"What conditions?"
Margaret hesitated.
"The original document was placed in escrow with instructions that it could only be released if you personally challenged the authority of your family's trustees."
Anna leaned closer.
Dante looked toward her.
"Apparently tearing up Lorenzo's resolution accomplished something."
Margaret continued.
"I received confirmation this evening that you've formally disputed the board's authority."
"Yes."
"Then the conditions have been satisfied."
Dante straightened.
"What did my father leave me?"
Margaret's answer changed everything.
"Control."
By nine the following morning, Margaret Whitmore was sitting inside Dante's office.
She was a distinguished woman in her late sixties, with silver hair, sharp eyes, and the unmistakable confidence of someone who had spent decades confronting powerful men.
She carried a black leather briefcase.
Anna sat beside Dante.
Victor remained near the door.
Dante had allowed him back into the office under one condition.
No more secrets.
Margaret placed a sealed document on the desk.
"Your father anticipated that certain members of the family might attempt to restrict your authority."
Dante looked at her.
"Then why didn't he stop them?"
Margaret's expression softened.
"He tried."
She opened the document.
"Shortly before his death, your father established a separate trust containing his controlling interests in several family companies."
Dante frowned.
"Those shares were transferred to Lorenzo."
"That's what you were told."
Anna felt her heartbeat accelerate.
Margaret continued.
"Your father transferred the shares into a private trust. Lorenzo was appointed temporary administrator."
Dante stared at her.
"Temporary?"
"Until you chose to exercise your rights independently."
Victor slowly looked up.
Margaret handed Dante another document.
"Your father specifically prohibited any medical representative or family trustee from making that decision on your behalf."
Dante examined the papers.
His expression changed.
"How much of the company does the trust control?"
Margaret smiled faintly.
"Enough to make your brother considerably less comfortable."
Anna almost laughed.
Dante looked toward her.
Then back at Margaret.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Because your uncle repeatedly submitted medical assessments claiming you were unable to participate in complex financial decisions."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"And you believed him?"
Margaret's expression hardened.
"No."
She opened another folder.
"I challenged those assessments. Your family threatened litigation. Eventually, the trust was placed under judicial supervision."
Dante leaned forward.
"And now?"
"Now you have formally disputed their authority."
Margaret placed a pen beside the documents.
"And I believe the court will be very interested in learning why your medical records were altered."
Anna watched Dante carefully.
For six years, he'd been told to wait.
Wait until he recovered.
Wait until his doctors approved.
Wait until his family believed he was ready.
Now the choice was finally his.
But he didn't reach for the pen.
Instead, he looked at Margaret.
"What else is in the will?"
Her expression changed.
Anna noticed immediately.
Margaret slowly closed the folder.
"There's a personal letter."
Dante's voice softened.
"From my father?"
She nodded.
"He specifically instructed me to give it to you when the amendment was released."
Dante extended his hand.
Margaret hesitated.
Then she passed him a sealed envelope.
His father's handwriting appeared across the front.
To my son, Dante.
Dante stared at it.
Anna gently squeezed his hand.
He opened the envelope.
My son,
If you're reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong.
Dante swallowed.
Anna remained silent.
I have made mistakes. Some were ordinary mistakes made by a father who believed he knew what was best for his children.
Others were far more serious.
Dante stopped reading.
His expression darkened.
Then he continued.
I trusted Richard with responsibilities I should never have surrendered.
I believed Lorenzo would eventually understand that love and authority are not the same thing.
And I failed to recognize how dangerous their resentment had become.
Dante's breathing changed.
There is something you need to know about the accident.
Anna felt her stomach tighten.
Dante continued.
I discovered evidence that someone had arranged for your vehicle to be tampered with.
His hands began shaking.
Anna reached toward him.
He shook his head.
He needed to finish.
I intended to confront the people responsible. Unfortunately, I underestimated how far they were willing to go.
If I am no longer alive when you read this, I want you to understand one thing.
Your injury was never a reason for anyone to take away your right to make decisions.
Dante closed his eyes.
Anna felt tears gathering.
Then he read the final paragraph.
The truth is hidden where Richard will never think to look.
Find the original trust documents.
And remember what I told you when you were a boy.
Never confuse the people who protect your power with the people who protect you.
Dante lowered the letter.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Margaret reached into her briefcase.
"There's one more thing."
She placed a small brass key on the desk.
Dante frowned.
"What's that?"
"Your father's private archive."
Victor stepped forward.
"Where?"
Margaret looked directly at Dante.
"Inside the old medical wing."
Anna felt cold.
The same medical wing where Claire had been held.
The same place where Annabelle had hidden evidence.
The same building Richard had supposedly closed years earlier.
Dante picked up the key.
"What's inside?"
Margaret hesitated.
"I don't know."
Dante stared at her.
"You've represented my family for thirty years."
"Your father specifically instructed me never to open it."
"Why?"
Margaret's expression became serious.
"Because he believed the contents would put anyone who possessed them in danger."
An hour later, Anna stood inside the guest suite with her mother.
Annabelle looked exhausted.
Claire sat beside her, holding a cup of tea.
The three women had spent years separated by secrets.
Now they were finally in the same room.
And nobody knew what to say.
Anna placed the wooden box on the table.
She had arranged for a trusted courier to collect it from her apartment.
The painted blue flowers were faded.
The hinges were slightly rusted.
But it was exactly as she remembered.
Annabelle covered her mouth.
"You kept it."
Anna looked at her.
"Of course I kept it."
Her mother began crying.
Claire leaned forward.
"Can we please open it?"
Anna nodded.
She carefully removed the contents.
Birthday cards.
Old photographs.
A silver bracelet.
Then she lifted the velvet lining.
Beneath it was a narrow compartment.
Inside lay a small memory card.
And a folded piece of paper.
Anna unfolded the note.
Her mother's handwriting.
If anything happens to me, give this to Dante Moretti.
Anna looked toward Annabelle.
Her mother had gone completely pale.
"What is it?" Claire asked.
Annabelle stared at the memory card.
Then whispered, "The original recording."
Anna felt her heart pounding.
"Of the accident?"
Her mother nodded.
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you tell us?"
Annabelle looked toward the door.
"Because I didn't know whether it was still there."
Anna stared at her.
"And the woman pretending to be me?"
Annabelle closed her eyes.
"Her name is Rebecca."
Claire frowned.
"Rebecca who?"
Their mother slowly opened her eyes.
"Rebecca Voss."
Anna froze.
"Voss?"
Annabelle nodded.
"Dr. Samuel Voss's daughter."
Anna remembered the woman in the security footage.
The resemblance.
The stolen cardigan.
The necklace.
Suddenly, everything began making sense.
Rebecca hadn't simply impersonated Anna.
Someone had deliberately selected a woman who resembled her.
Someone who could access medical records.
Someone whose father had supervised Dante's rehabilitation.
Anna picked up the memory card.
"Then let's find out what really happened."
At noon, Dante gathered everyone in his office.
Margaret.
Victor.
Annabelle.
Anna.
Claire.
The memory card lay on his desk.
Victor connected it to a secure computer that had been disconnected from the estate's network.
A video appeared.
The same parking garage.
The same black vehicle.
The same night.
But this recording began earlier.
Dante watched himself entering the garage.
Then Richard appeared.
Lorenzo followed.
They argued.
Annabelle entered the frame.
But this time, the recording continued.
Richard walked toward Dante's vehicle.
He opened the driver's door.
Then he reached beneath the dashboard.
Anna covered her mouth.
Dante became completely still.
Lorenzo looked toward the camera.
He appeared frightened.
Then a fourth person entered the garage.
Dr. Samuel Voss.
He handed Richard a small electronic device.
Victor leaned forward.
"What the hell is that?"
Dante didn't answer.
The recording continued.
Richard closed the driver's door.
Then Lorenzo approached him.
They argued again.
Lorenzo pointed toward Dante.
Richard pushed him away.
Annabelle stepped between them.
Then Dante's father entered the garage.
He looked furious.
The audio became clearer.
"What have you done?"
Richard turned.
"Nothing you can prove."
Dante's father approached the vehicle.
Then he noticed something.
He bent down.
Looked beneath the dashboard.
And immediately turned toward Dante.
"Don't drive this car!"
Anna gripped Dante's hand.
The recording suddenly shook.
Someone had moved the camera.
Then the image changed.
A close-up of Richard.
He was speaking into a phone.
"He's seen it."
A pause.
"Then we proceed with the second arrangement."
Dante stared at the screen.
"What second arrangement?"
Victor looked toward Annabelle.
Her mother had begun trembling.
The recording continued.
Richard spoke again.
"Make certain the hospital follows the instructions."
Anna felt sick.
Then another voice emerged from the recording.
Dr. Voss.
"And if he survives?"
Richard answered without hesitation.
"Then we make certain he never controls the company again."
Dante closed his eyes.
For six years, he'd believed his family had saved him.
Now he had proof that at least two people had been planning to exploit his injuries.
But the recording wasn't finished.
A final document appeared on the screen.
An authorization form.
It contained three signatures.
Richard Moretti.
Dr. Samuel Voss.
And a third name.
Dante leaned closer.
His expression changed.
Anna looked at him.
"What?"
He didn't answer.
She examined the document.
The third signature belonged to someone who had been present at nearly every major decision since Dante's accident.
Someone who had helped manage the family's finances.
Someone who had repeatedly insisted that Dante needed protection.
Anna whispered the name.
"Lorenzo."
Dante slowly nodded.
Then Victor's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression immediately changed.
"Sir."
Dante looked up.
"What?"
Victor swallowed.
"Your brother just called an emergency press conference."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"About what?"
Victor turned on the television.
Lorenzo appeared behind a podium.
Richard stood beside him.
A banner displayed the Moretti Foundation's logo.
Lorenzo adjusted the microphone.
Then he looked directly into the cameras.
"My brother Dante has unfortunately become involved with individuals who are exploiting his medical condition."
Anna felt her stomach drop.
Lorenzo continued.
"Effective immediately, the family board has authorized emergency measures to protect him."
Dante laughed bitterly.
Then Lorenzo announced something that silenced the room.
"We have also filed a formal complaint against his former nurse, Anna Foster."
Anna stared at the screen.
Her former nurse?
She hadn't resigned yet.
Lorenzo continued.
"Miss Foster is suspected of illegally obtaining confidential medical information and attempting to manipulate my brother's financial affairs."
Claire gasped.
Annabelle covered her mouth.
Dante's expression became frighteningly calm.
Then Lorenzo delivered his final announcement.
"Until these matters are resolved, Dante Moretti will be placed under independent medical supervision."
Victor immediately turned toward Dante.
"Sir, we need to leave."
Dante frowned.
"Why?"
Victor looked at his phone.
"Because your brother has obtained an emergency court order authorizing a medical assessment."
Margaret stood.
"Let me see it. That doesn't automatically authorize detention."
Victor handed her the document.
She examined it.
Then her expression changed.
"This isn't the order Lorenzo described."
Dante looked toward her.
"What is it?"
Margaret swallowed.
"It's an application for temporary guardianship. The hearing hasn't even taken place."
Anna felt a wave of relief.
Then Victor's security radio crackled.
"Sir, we have a situation at the main gate."
Dante turned.
"What situation?"
"Several vehicles have arrived."
Victor immediately checked the surveillance monitor.
His expression darkened.
Anna moved closer.
On the screen, three black vehicles stopped outside the estate.
Several men stepped out.
Then a fourth vehicle arrived.
A white medical transport van.
Dante stared at it.
Victor reached for his phone.
But before he could make the call, Margaret's phone vibrated.
She read the message.
Her face went completely white.
"Margaret?" Dante asked.
She looked toward him.
"The court just received an additional document."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"What document?"
Margaret slowly turned her phone around.
It displayed a scanned copy of his father's will.
But this version contained an additional page.
A page Margaret had never seen.
And at the bottom was a signature.
Not his father's.
Anna leaned closer.
Her heart stopped.
May you like
Because the witness signature belonged to Annabelle Foster.
And the document was dated six years after her supposed death.
