Chapter 4 - TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS OF LIES
The study door closed behind them.
Luca stood beside the fireplace.
Isabella sat in her wheelchair.
Naomi remained near the door.
The room was silent except for the rain.
Luca placed the gold ring on the desk.
His mother stared at it.
Her face collapsed.
She covered her mouth.
"Ma."
Isabella began shaking.
"Who had this?"
She pointed toward the ring.
Then toward herself.
Then shook her head.
Luca crouched beside her.
"Tell me."
She tried.
Nothing came out.
Luca softened his voice.
"I won't be angry."
Isabella looked at him.
He knew she didn't believe him.
Not because she thought he would hurt her.
Because she knew the truth might hurt him more than any physical wound.
Naomi stepped closer.
"Mrs. Moretti, you don't have to say everything. Just tell him what you can."
Isabella looked at Naomi.
Then she reached for a notepad.
Her fingers shook as she wrote.
One word.
Rafael.
Luca stared.
"Rafael?"
His father's name.
Rafael Moretti.
He hadn't heard it spoken in that house for years.
He sat down.
"Why his ring?"
Isabella wrote again.
HE DID NOT DIE.
Luca stopped breathing.
The pen slipped from his mother's hand.
Naomi stared.
"Your husband?"
Isabella nodded.
Luca stood.
"No."
His mother looked at him.
"No. Ma, I saw the wreck."
Isabella shook her head.
"I was there."
She nodded.
Luca's memories came rushing back.
Rain.
Police lights.
His father's car crushed against a concrete barrier.
His mother's screaming.
The funeral.
The closed coffin.
The newspapers.
The men who came to the house afterward.
And one stranger who had stood beside his mother for hours.
A man Luca remembered only as Uncle Victor.
Luca's expression changed.
"Victor."
Isabella closed her eyes.
She nodded.
Naomi looked between them.
"Who is Victor?"
Luca didn't answer immediately.
"Victor Moretti was my father's younger brother."
"Your uncle?"
"My father's most trusted lieutenant."
Luca looked at the ring.
"He disappeared after the funeral."
Isabella wrote another sentence.
HE DID NOT DISAPPEAR.
Luca's stomach tightened.
"Where is he?"
His mother wrote:
HE HAS BEEN HERE.
Luca stared at her.
"In this house?"
She nodded.
"How?"
Isabella pointed toward the wall.
Luca walked over.
There was an old portrait hanging above the fireplace.
A photograph of the Moretti family from thirty years ago.
His father.
His mother.
Luca as a teenager.
And Victor.
Luca stared at the portrait.
Then he noticed something.
A small wooden frame had been placed over one corner.
He removed it.
Behind it was a narrow opening.
Inside was a second photograph.
It showed Victor standing beside Vivian.
Luca's eyes widened.
The photograph was dated six years ago.
Before he had met Vivian.
Naomi stepped closer.
"They knew each other."
Luca looked at his mother.
Isabella nodded.
His mind raced.
Vivian hadn't entered his life by accident.
She had been placed there.
But why?
His phone rang.
His lawyer again.
Luca answered.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Moretti, you need to come to the office immediately."
"Why?"
"Someone just accessed your corporate accounts."
"How much?"
"Everything."
Luca's expression became stone.
"How much?"
"Twenty-eight million dollars."
Naomi gasped.
Luca's lawyer continued.
"There's more. The transfer authorization bears your digital signature."
Luca looked at the gold ring.
Twenty-eight years.
Twenty-eight million.
The number felt deliberate.
"Freeze everything."
"We tried."
"What happened?"
"The system rejected your command."
Luca stared.
"Why?"
"Because the account administrator has higher authorization."
"Who?"
A pause.
"Your mother."
Luca slowly looked toward Isabella.
She was crying.
He understood immediately.
Someone had built an entire false identity around her.
A woman who couldn't defend herself.
A woman who couldn't speak.
A woman who could be made to appear responsible for financial crimes.
Luca's jaw tightened.
"They're framing her."
His lawyer said:
"That's not all."
"What?"
"There was a message attached to the transaction."
"Read it."
The lawyer hesitated.
Then said:
THE MORETTI BLOODLINE ENDS TONIGHT.
The line went silent.
Luca hung up.
Naomi looked at him.
"What are you going to do?"
"Find Vivian."
"And after you find her?"
Luca looked toward his mother.
"First, I'm going to keep her alive."
"Why?"
"Because she's the only person who knows who is behind this."
A noise came from the hallway.
Everyone turned.
A guard entered.
"Boss."
"What?"
"We found Vivian's car."
"Where?"
"Three miles from here."
"Empty?"
The guard nodded.
"Except for this."
He handed Luca a small envelope.
Luca opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
A teenage boy.
Standing beside Rafael Moretti.
Luca recognized himself.
The photo had been taken the summer before his father's death.
On the back, someone had written:
YOUR FATHER CHOSE YOU. THAT IS WHY HE HAD TO DIE.
Luca's eyes hardened.
Naomi whispered:
"Your father was killed because of you?"
Luca didn't answer.
His mother suddenly reached for his hand.
She squeezed it.
Then she pointed toward the photograph.
And wrote three words.
HE SAVED YOU.
Luca looked at her.
"From what?"
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
She wrote another sentence.
FROM THE MAN YOU CALL UNCLE.
The study door suddenly slammed open.
A guard fell inside.
Unconscious.
Luca reached for his gun.
Three shots shattered the windows.
Glass exploded across the room.
Luca threw himself over his mother.
Naomi dropped to the floor.
The security team returned fire.
Then silence.
Luca slowly lifted his head.
Across the garden, beyond the rain, a black vehicle disappeared through the gates.
On the ground beside the broken window was a note.
Luca picked it up.
May you like
Only one sentence was written.
NEXT TIME, I WON'T MISS.
