Chapter 6 - THE MORETTI FAMILY WAR
Luca moved us that afternoon.
This time I didn't argue.
Not because I trusted Moretti power.
Because someone had photographed my children.
There were boundaries even anger couldn't protect.
Luca owned a house in Lake Forest that the press didn't know about.
No staff lived on-site.
No photographers waited outside.
Two security officers guarded the gate.
My mother came too.
She informed Luca immediately that if he “pulled billionaire nonsense,” she would personally remove him from his own property.
Luca nodded seriously.
“I understand.”
I almost laughed.
The twins loved the house.
That worried me.
There was an indoor pool.
A movie room.
A backyard big enough to lose a football team.
Noah discovered Luca's garage.
Four minutes later, my son had fallen in love with a vintage Ferrari.
“Can we drive it?”
“No,” Luca said.
“Why?”
“Because you're six.”
“When I'm seven?”
“No.”
“Eight?”
“No.”
“Ten?”
“We'll revisit this when you can reach the pedals.”
Noah considered that reasonable.
Watching them together hurt in strange ways.
Luca had missed first words.
First steps.
First birthdays.
But he slid into their curiosity naturally.
Ava was harder.
She watched him.
Tested him.
That was my daughter.
At dinner, she asked, “Are you going to leave again?”
The entire table went silent.
Luca set down his fork.
“No.”
“People say things.”
“Yes.”
“My friend Kayla's dad said he'd always come every Saturday. Then he moved to Arizona.”
Luca nodded.
“That's true. People sometimes break promises.”
“So how do I know?”
“You don't.”
I looked at him.
Ava blinked.
Luca continued.
“You shouldn't trust a promise just because I say it. You should watch what I do.”
Ava thought about that.
Then resumed eating.
He had passed the first test.
Barely.
After the twins went to bed, Luca's investigator arrived.
Marcus Reed had spent twenty years in federal law enforcement before private wealth apparently convinced him retirement was boring.
He placed several folders on the dining table.
“We traced the leak to a public relations consultant hired yesterday.”
“By whom?” Luca asked.
Marcus looked at me.
“Moretti Family Foundation.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Who authorized it?”
“Isabella Moretti.”
Of course.
My mother muttered, “Snake in diamonds.”
Luca looked confused.
“Long story,” I said.
Marcus continued.
“Your mother claims she hired the consultant for crisis management.”
“She leaked the children to create the crisis she wanted managed?”
“That's our working theory.”
“Why?”
Marcus opened another file.
“Because she wants custody pressure.”
I stood.
“What?”
Luca went still.
Marcus explained.
“Your mother contacted a family-law firm this morning.”
“She has no standing,” Luca said.
“No direct standing. But she appears to be preparing an argument that Ms. Carter deliberately concealed the children from their father.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“She concealed my letters.”
“Yes.”
“She's going to accuse me?”
“Yes.”
Luca's voice became dangerous.
“No.”
Marcus nodded.
“I assumed you'd say that.”
“What else?”
“Financial records.”
He slid a document toward Luca.
“Payments from Shaw Capital to Gabriel Price began six months before your divorce.”
Luca looked at the numbers.
“Consulting fees?”
“Probably disguised.”
“How much?”
“Three-point-two million over four years.”
My mother whistled.
“That's a lot of money for ruining a marriage.”
I felt sick.
“What did Gabriel do for them?”
Marcus turned another page.
“We don't know everything.”
He pointed at a date.
“But this payment happened two days after Ms. Carter's second letter disappeared.”
Luca's fist tightened.
Another date.
“This one followed the creation of the forged fertility report.”
Another.
“This occurred after the legal acknowledgment document was produced.”
I stared at Luca.
“Your mother and Evelyn's father paid your lawyer to manufacture an entire reality.”
Luca looked like he might be ill.
Marcus nodded.
“There's more.”
Of course there was.
“The first fertility clinic had a data breach seven years ago.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Someone accessed Ms. Carter's records without authorization.”
“Who?”
“We traced credentials to a senior administrator.”
“Name?”
“Rebecca Lane.”
I recognized it.
She had scheduled some of my procedures.
“Where is she?”
“Wisconsin.”
“Can we talk to her?”
“We already did.”
Luca looked up.
“And?”
Marcus's expression changed.
“She says Isabella Moretti paid her.”
There it was.
Not suspicion.
A witness.
“For what?” I asked.
“To provide copies of your records.”
My hands went numb.
“She gave my private medical information to Isabella?”
“Yes.”
“And the fake diagnosis?”
“She denies creating it.”
“Gabriel did,” Luca said.
Marcus nodded.
“Most likely.”
I paced away from the table.
My mother came beside me.
“I need air.”
Outside, snow covered the lawn.
I wrapped my arms around myself.
A minute later, Luca joined me.
“I told Marcus not to release anything without your approval.”
“Thank you.”
“We should go to police.”
“Yes.”
“My mother may be charged.”
“Does that bother you?”
He stared into the yard.
“Yes.”
I appreciated the answer.
“She is still my mother.”
“And?”
“And what she did was wrong.”
I studied him.
“Six years ago, would you have chosen her over me?”
He flinched.
“I did.”
“No. You chose her story.”
“Same result.”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“I was raised to believe family loyalty meant never questioning certain people.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It was cowardly.”
The word surprised me.
Luca continued.
“I thought being decisive made me strong. I made judgments quickly. Trusted people who had earned trust in business.”
“You treated marriage like due diligence.”
“Yes.”
“And you failed it.”
“Yes.”
I looked away.
He stepped closer but didn't touch me.
“I need you to know something.”
“What?”
“I will not seek custody against you.”
I turned.
“You're their father. We need an arrangement.”
“Yes.”
“But you won't use your money against me.”
“No.”
“How do I know?”
“Have your lawyer draft the agreement.”
“You'll sign before negotiating?”
“If it says you remain their primary residential parent and that I cannot relocate them, remove them from school, or use financial pressure to alter custody, yes.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because I'm trying to prove I'm not here to take.”
His voice lowered.
“I'm here to earn.”
Before I could answer, the back door opened.
Ava appeared barefoot.
“Mom?”
I hurried over.
“What happened?”
“There's a lady at the gate.”
Luca's expression changed.
“What lady?”
“She said she's our grandma.”
My blood ran cold.
Isabella.
Luca walked toward the front of the house.
I grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?”
“Ending this.”
“Not in front of the children.”
He nodded.
“Take them upstairs.”
I did.
But Ava was curious.
So was Noah.
And children listened through doors.
By the time I returned downstairs, Isabella stood in the foyer.
Elegant.
Silver-haired.
Camel coat.
Exactly as I remembered.
Her eyes found me.
“Nia.”
I hadn't seen her since she'd convinced me Luca rejected his children.
“You should leave.”
She ignored me and looked at Luca.
“You're overreacting.”
Luca laughed once.
“Overreacting?”
“You've allowed emotion to cloud judgment.”
“You forged my wife's medical records.”
“Former wife.”
“Don't.”
His voice shook the room.
Isabella stiffened.
“I protected you.”
“You stole my children.”
“I did no such thing.”
“You knew she was pregnant.”
“You were divorcing.”
“You knew.”
“You had responsibilities.”
“To my unborn children!”
“You had thousands of employees depending on you.”
I stared at her.
“You actually believe that.”
She looked at me.
“You received a generous settlement.”
I nearly laughed.
“Isabella.”
Luca's voice was deadly.
“Do not speak to her like that.”
His mother looked shocked.
Then she said something that silenced all of us.
“You're acting as though those children would have saved your marriage.”
Luca stared.
“They wouldn't have.”
My chest tightened.
Isabella continued.
“You were already leaving her.”
I hated that the words hurt.
Because part of them was true.
Then Luca surprised us both.
“I was leaving her because of a lie you created.”
“No. You were leaving because you doubted her.”
That landed.
Isabella stepped closer.
“I gave you a reason. You chose to believe it.”
Luca didn't move.
She looked toward me.
“He wants me to be the villain because then he doesn't have to admit what kind of husband he was.”
I couldn't breathe.
For once, Isabella was telling the truth.
Luca's face went pale.
I whispered, “She's right.”
His eyes closed.
“I know.”
That robbed Isabella of her victory.
Then Luca opened the front door.
“Leave.”
She stared at him.
“You'll regret choosing her again.”
“I'm not choosing Nia.”
His voice was calm.
“I'm choosing my children.”
Isabella's expression turned strange.
Almost afraid.
She walked outside.
Before entering her car, she looked back at me.
And smiled.
Not warmly.
Then my phone rang.
Marcus.
I answered.
“Nia, we found something.”
“What?”
“The person who sent the threatening photograph.”
I looked toward Isabella's departing car.
“Was it her?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Your ex-mother-in-law wasn't the only person trying to keep Luca from learning about the twins.”
My skin went cold.
“Who else?”
“Someone from your own family.”
I stopped breathing.
Marcus said the name.
May you like
And the phone nearly slipped from my hand.
My father.
