Chapter 4 - My Brother’s Seven-Year Lie
“Where?”
Isabella breathed into the phone.
“St. Catherine’s.”
The name cut through me.
St. Catherine’s was the church where Sofia had been baptized.
It was also where we held her funeral.
“When?”
“Now.”
“I want proof.”
“You already saw it.”
“Proof Lucia is alive.”
Silence.
Then a voice came through the line.
A girl.
Older than Ellie.
Maybe seven or eight.
“Hello?”
Maria grabbed my arm.
Her eyes widened.
“Lucia?”
The line went dead.
Maria sobbed.
I stared at the phone.
Seven years ago, Lucia had been an infant.
Now she would be seven.
Alive.
Somewhere.
Because my wife had taken her.
I turned to Dante.
“You knew Isabella was involved.”
“No.”
“Don’t lie again.”
“I knew she met Vale.”
“When?”
“After the fire.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Dante looked exhausted.
“I saw them together two weeks before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought she was having an affair.”
My stomach twisted.
“Was she?”
“I don’t know.”
Leon laughed bitterly.
“Vale didn’t need romance. He needed access.”
“To what?”
“My father’s company,” Dante said.
Everything led back to that.
Money.
Control.
My father had built Moretti Holdings over forty years.
After his death, Isabella repeatedly urged me to sell certain divisions.
I refused.
At the time I thought she wanted stability.
Now I understood.
“She was working with Vale.”
Dante nodded.
“Maybe.”
“Not maybe.”
Maria stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“That’s my daughter.”
“And whoever took her is willing to shoot people.”
“I waited seven years.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
She stepped toward me.
“You buried your child. I never got to bury mine.”
The words hit harder than any accusation could.
“You had a grave,” she whispered. “I had a question.”
I looked away.
She was right.
“Fine,” I said. “You come, but you stay in the car until I know it’s safe.”
“I decide when it’s safe for my child.”
I almost argued.
Then I stopped.
“Carlo,” I said, “keep Ellie here.”
Maria knelt in front of her daughter.
Ellie looked frightened.
“Mommy has to go somewhere.”
“To find Lucia?”
Maria froze.
Children hear more than adults realize.
“Yes.”
“Is Lucia my sister?”
Maria began crying.
“Yes.”
Ellie wrapped her arms around her.
“Bring her home.”
That sentence changed the room.
Not find her.
Not save her.
Bring her home.
Maria kissed Ellie’s forehead.
“I will.”
Dante stepped toward me.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Vale knows me.”
“That’s exactly why you aren’t.”
“Vincent.”
“You started this seven years ago.”
His eyes hardened.
“I know.”
“And I’m not giving you another chance to decide what happens to someone else’s child.”
I left him there.
Leon insisted on coming.
I allowed it because he knew Vale’s methods.
We drove to St. Catherine’s in my car.
Maria sat beside me.
Leon sat in back.
No one spoke.
The church was dark when we arrived.
One side door stood open.
I parked across the street.
Maria reached for the handle.
“Wait.”
She stared at me.
“I promised nothing except that you could come.”
I called Isabella.
No answer.
A light appeared inside the church.
Then went out.
Leon whispered, “Trap.”
“Probably.”
“You still going in?”
“Yes.”
Maria opened her door.
“So am I.”
There was no stopping her.
We entered together.
Rows of wooden pews disappeared into darkness.
Candles flickered near the altar.
I saw someone seated in the front row.
A woman.
Isabella.
Seven years had changed her.
Her blonde hair was shorter.
Her face thinner.
But I knew her immediately.
“Where is Lucia?”
She stood.
Maria pushed past me.
“Where is my daughter?”
Isabella looked at her.
Recognition passed across her face.
“I’m sorry.”
Maria slapped her.
The sound echoed through the church.
Isabella did not defend herself.
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“You stole my baby.”
“Yes.”
Maria hit her again.
I caught Maria gently before she could strike a third time.
“Let her talk.”
Isabella looked at me.
“I didn’t steal Lucia for myself.”
“That makes it better?”
“No.”
“Where is she?”
“With a family in Connecticut.”
“What family?”
“They believe she was abandoned.”
Maria made a broken sound.
“Why?”
Isabella sat.
“Because Vale wanted her dead.”
Leon stepped forward.
“What?”
“He knew Maria had seen you at the estate. He knew the baby existed. After the explosion, I found Lucia alone near the service door.”
“Where was Sofia?”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.”
“You left with Vale.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he found me holding Lucia.”
Maria whispered, “And you gave him my baby?”
“No. I told him she was dead.”
Leon stared.
“You lied to Vale.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew what he was capable of.”
I laughed.
“You were working with him.”
“At first.”
The words were barely audible.
“I thought he was helping Dante cover a financial problem. I didn’t know about the fire.”
I looked at Leon.
He studied her.
She continued.
“When I saw the smoke, I realized what they had done.”
“Why didn’t you call police?”
“Vale’s brother controlled the investigation.”
“So you ran.”
“I took Lucia to a woman I knew from college. She and her husband had tried for years to have children.”
Maria trembled.
“You gave away my daughter.”
“I saved her.”
“You let me believe she was dead.”
“I was terrified.”
Maria stepped closer.
“You had seven years.”
Isabella’s face crumpled.
“I know.”
I wanted to hate her.
Part of me did.
But the story was not finished.
“What did Vale want from you?”
“My shares.”
“What shares?”
“Your father left Sofia a trust.”
I stared.
“My father died before Sofia.”
“Yes. He established it when she was born.”
I knew about the trust.
Sofia would have inherited substantial voting rights at twenty-one.
After her death, those rights reverted to me.
Unless—
I understood.
“If I had died too…”
“Dante would have inherited part of the company.”
“And you?”
“As Sofia’s mother, I had a claim to certain assets during probate.”
“Vale wanted control through us.”
“Yes.”
Leon whispered, “The fire was bigger than Dante thought.”
Dante had wanted records destroyed.
Vale wanted chaos.
Maybe deaths.
Maybe leverage.
“Did Vale intend Sofia to die?”
Isabella looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
That answer was not enough.
Before I could respond, the church doors slammed shut.
Leon turned.
Men emerged from both side aisles.
Three.
Armed.
Thomas Vale walked out from behind the altar.
Seventy years old.
Silver hair.
Perfect black coat.
He looked almost exactly as he had at Sofia’s funeral.
“Vincent.”
My body went cold.
He smiled.
“You always were stubborn.”
“Where is Lucia?”
“With people who love her.”
“Give me the address.”
“No.”
Maria stepped forward.
Vale looked at her.
“You were supposed to disappear.”
Leon moved between them.
Vale smiled.
“And you were supposed to stay bought.”
Leon’s hands curled into fists.
I looked around.
Three armed men.
No clear exit.
Then Vale said something I did not expect.
“Dante told me you would come here.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“He called twenty minutes ago.”
My chest tightened.
No.
Dante had been at the estate.
Vale took out his phone.
He pressed play.
Dante’s voice filled the church.
“He has the memory card. He knows Isabella took the baby. Do whatever you have to do.”
Maria looked at me.
Leon whispered, “Your brother sold you out again.”
My phone vibrated.
A message from Carlo.
I opened it.
DANTE IS GONE.
ELLIE IS GONE TOO.
I looked at Maria.
Her face changed when she saw mine.
“What?”
I turned the screen toward her.
Maria screamed.
Then another message arrived.
This one was from Dante.
DON’T BELIEVE VALE.
I TOOK ELLIE TO KEEP HER ALIVE.
May you like
COME TO THE OLD MORETTI WAREHOUSE.
ALONE.
