Chapter 6 - THE HEIR NOBODY KNEW EXISTED
Adeline laughed.
It was not amusement.
It was disbelief reaching for somewhere to go.
“No.”
Dante looked up from the documents.
“Adeline—”
“No.”
She paced the small bank room.
“I clean hotel bathrooms.”
Nobody interrupted.
“I count coins before buying groceries.”
She pointed toward Enzo.
“He has a driver.”
Enzo said, “Several.”
She glared at him.
“Not helping.”
“Sorry.”
“I lived in a studio apartment with a broken radiator for three winters.”
Dante carefully said, “Inheritance law doesn’t care about radiators.”
“Well, maybe it should.”
Adeline looked at the photograph again.
Beatrice holding a newborn.
Her.
It felt impossible.
Yet the resemblance was there.
The shape of the eyes.
The narrow chin.
Adeline had always looked unlike Ruth.
People used to mention it.
Ruth would smile and say, “You got the best parts from somewhere else.”
Adeline had assumed it was a joke.
Now it hurt.
Enzo sat across from her.
“You don’t have to decide anything today.”
“Decide what?”
“What you want to do with this information.”
She looked at him.
“Is it true?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said I might own your family’s companies.”
“Our family’s companies.”
“Don’t.”
Enzo nodded.
“Fair.”
Dante removed the remaining papers from the box.
“There may be another way to verify.”
He unfolded a legal document.
It was a notarized guardianship declaration signed by Lorenzo Marchetti.
Dante read quickly.
Then more slowly.
“This is significant.”
“What?”
“Lorenzo acknowledged paternity.”
Adeline sat.
“He knew?”
“He signed this three days before he died.”
The document named Ruth Croft temporary guardian of Adeline Marchetti in the event of Lorenzo’s death or Beatrice’s incapacity.
Enzo frowned.
“Why Ruth?”
Dante continued reading.
“Because Lorenzo alleged Beatrice posed a financial danger to the child.”
Adeline closed her eyes.
Her own mother.
Beatrice.
Had been dangerous from the beginning.
“Did my father love me?”
The question escaped before she could stop it.
Enzo’s face softened.
“I don’t know.”
Adeline stared at him.
Then Enzo looked at the old photograph.
“But he signed something trying to protect you.”
She nodded faintly.
For now, that had to be enough.
Dante gathered the papers.
“We need genetic confirmation.”
Adeline gave him a look.
“You say that like we’re ordering lunch.”
“I’m a lawyer. We make trauma sound administrative.”
Enzo’s phone rang.
Marco.
He answered.
“Talk.”
Marco’s voice was tense.
“Philip Raines woke up.”
“The driver?”
“Yes.”
“Is he talking?”
“One sentence.”
“What?”
“He asked for Adeline.”
Everyone looked at her.
Enzo’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“He says he’ll only tell her where Beatrice is.”
Adeline stood.
“Let’s go.”
Enzo shook his head.
“No.”
She glared.
“We’re not doing that again.”
“He helped kidnap your sister.”
“I know.”
“He may be bait.”
“I know.”
“He may have killed people.”
“I know.”
She picked up her mother’s letter.
“And he may know why my mother spent her life running.”
Enzo looked at her for a long moment.
Then stood.
“Fine.”
At the hospital, police filled the private floor.
Philip Raines lay handcuffed to the bed.
Bandages covered his shoulder.
A bullet had passed cleanly through.
His face looked older than Adeline expected.
Gray hair.
Deep wrinkles.
A man who had driven Beatrice to charity lunches and family funerals for almost two decades.
He looked at Adeline.
His eyes filled with something like guilt.
“You look like Lorenzo.”
Adeline stopped beside the bed.
“So I’m told.”
Enzo stood behind her.
Philip glanced at him.
“Leave.”
Enzo almost laughed.
“No.”
“I’ll speak only to her.”
“She doesn’t go anywhere alone with someone who kidnapped her sister.”
Philip closed his eyes.
“I didn’t touch the girl.”
“You drove the men.”
“Yes.”
“That counts.”
Philip nodded.
“I know.”
Adeline stepped closer.
“Where is Beatrice?”
Philip looked at her.
“Safe house near Lake Geneva.”
Enzo’s expression changed.
Marco immediately texted the location.
“Address?”
Philip gave it.
Then looked back at Adeline.
“She won’t stay there long.”
“Why are you helping us?”
“Because she left me to die.”
Adeline almost smiled.
“Loyalty.”
Philip looked ashamed.
“I gave her seventeen years.”
“And Lucy got tied to a bomb.”
“I didn’t know about the bomb.”
“You people say that a lot.”
Philip flinched.
Good.
Adeline wanted him to.
“What happened to Ruth Croft?”
His eyes shifted.
“You know.”
“No.”
“She told you nothing?”
“She protected me.”
Philip nodded.
“That sounds like Ruth.”
Adeline leaned closer.
“Did Beatrice kill her?”
Philip stared at the ceiling.
“I wasn’t there.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No.”
Adeline waited.
Philip finally whispered, “She ordered it.”
Enzo’s jaw tightened.
Adeline felt numb.
“How?”
“Brake line.”
Her eyes closed.
The highway.
The police officer telling seventeen-year-old Adeline there had been no suffering.
The funeral director asking which dress Ruth would have wanted.
Lucy crying into her sweater.
All of it came rushing back.
“You cut her brakes?”
Philip’s eyes filled.
“No.”
“Who?”
“A mechanic named Arthur Vale.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“Of course.”
Philip looked at her.
“I tried to warn Ruth.”
“You still worked for Beatrice.”
“Yes.”
“For nine more years.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He had no answer.
Adeline’s voice hardened.
“Coward.”
Philip nodded.
“Yes.”
Enzo watched her.
The word landed harder than any threat he might have made.
Adeline continued.
“Why did Beatrice want my mother dead after all those years?”
“Ruth contacted a lawyer.”
“What lawyer?”
“Dante Russo’s father.”
Dante, who had entered quietly, froze.
“My father?”
Philip nodded.
“Anthony Russo.”
Dante’s face lost color.
“My father died ten years ago.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Stroke.”
Philip gave him a long look.
Dante understood before he spoke.
“Was it?”
Philip turned away.
The room went cold.
Dante stepped closer to the bed.
“What did Beatrice do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t.”
Philip coughed.
“Anthony discovered Lorenzo’s original trust.”
Enzo spoke.
“What original trust?”
“The one your grandfather signed.”
Philip looked at Adeline.
“It gave Lorenzo’s shares to his first surviving child.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“And after Lorenzo died?”
“Beatrice tried to have the provision invalidated.”
“Why?”
“Because you disappeared.”
Adeline frowned.
“I was a baby.”
“Exactly.”
Philip continued.
“Without a confirmed child, Lorenzo’s shares eventually transferred to Enzo’s father under a temporary succession clause.”
Enzo understood.
“My father gained control.”
“Yes.”
“Did he know Adeline was alive?”
Philip hesitated.
Enzo’s voice lowered.
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
Adeline turned toward Enzo.
Enzo’s face became stone.
His father knew.
He had accepted control anyway.
Philip continued.
“But later he changed his mind.”
“When?”
“Years later.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he look for her?”
“Yes.”
Adeline’s breath caught.
“He found Ruth.”
“When?”
“About twelve years ago.”
“Before my mother died.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“They met.”
Adeline gripped the bedrail.
“What did he say?”
“I wasn’t inside.”
“Did Beatrice know?”
“Eventually.”
Enzo closed his eyes.
Another betrayal.
Another family lie.
Philip looked at him.
“Your father planned to restore Lorenzo’s shares to Adeline.”
Enzo opened his eyes.
“And then?”
“He died.”
Car accident.
Nine years ago.
Enzo’s father had died in a single-vehicle crash outside Indianapolis.
Enzo had spent years blaming weather and exhaustion.
He looked at Philip.
“Was that Beatrice too?”
Philip whispered, “Yes.”
Silence.
Enzo turned away.
Adeline watched him.
For the first time, the feared Enzo Marchetti looked like a man whose entire childhood had just burned down.
Beatrice hadn’t merely betrayed him.
She had killed his father.
Possibly his uncle.
Adeline’s mother.
Maybe Dante’s father.
All for control.
Philip’s monitors beeped steadily.
Adeline asked, “Why bring me into the house now?”
Philip looked at her.
“Because Beatrice found out about the locket.”
“What about it?”
“The numbers.”
“The bank box?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Someone at the bank ran an old beneficiary audit. Your name appeared.”
Dante frowned.
“Why would that matter?”
Philip looked at him.
“Because Ruth’s box contained proof.”
Adeline understood.
“So Beatrice wanted me close.”
“Close enough to watch.”
“Why hire me?”
“To search your things.”
Enzo’s eyes hardened.
“Did they?”
Philip nodded.
“Her people searched Adeline’s apartment twice.”
Adeline felt violated all over again.
“They never found the locket because I wore it.”
“Yes.”
“And tonight?”
“Beatrice planned to drug Enzo after the toast.”
Samuel, standing near the door, asked, “With what?”
“Digitalis extract.”
Samuel swore.
Adeline looked at him.
“What would it do?”
“In enough quantity? Potentially fatal arrhythmia.”
Camilla had nearly handed Enzo death in a champagne flute.
Philip continued.
“After Enzo collapsed, the engagement party would end. Tomorrow’s signing would be delayed.”
Enzo frowned.
“Why delay it if she wanted the forged document signed?”
“Because she realized Dante had updated the signing procedure.”
Dante nodded slowly.
“I required biometric verification last week.”
Philip looked at Enzo.
“She couldn’t risk you reading the document carefully.”
“So she changed the plan.”
“Yes.”
“Kill me before the signing.”
Philip looked toward Adeline.
“Then blame Camilla.”
Adeline stared.
“The glass was in Camilla’s hand.”
“Yes.”
Enzo finally understood the entire construction.
Camilla publicly gave him the drink.
Camilla’s fingerprints.
Camilla’s temper.
Camilla’s wealthy father.
A perfect suspect.
Beatrice would survive.
The Ashfords would be destroyed.
Enzo would be dead.
Adeline would eventually disappear.
Philip began coughing.
A nurse entered.
“Enough.”
Adeline stepped back.
Then Philip grabbed her wrist.
Enzo moved immediately.
Philip said, “Wait.”
Adeline looked down.
Philip’s grip was weak.
“Your mother left something else.”
“What?”
“Not in the bank.”
“Where?”
Philip’s eyes flickered toward Enzo.
“In the house.”
“What house?”
“The Marchetti mansion.”
Enzo frowned.
Philip whispered, “Ruth put it there before she ran.”
“Where?”
Philip struggled to breathe.
“Lorenzo’s room.”
Enzo stepped closer.
“That room was sealed after he died.”
Philip nodded.
“Exactly.”
“What did she hide?”
Philip looked at Adeline.
“The one thing Beatrice has spent twenty-six years trying to find.”
Adeline’s pulse accelerated.
“What?”
Philip smiled faintly.
“Your father’s recording.”
Then his monitors screamed.
Nurses rushed in.
Enzo pulled Adeline back.
Doctors filled the room.
Philip’s body jerked once.
Then went still.
A doctor began compressions.
Enzo led Adeline into the hallway.
She leaned against the wall.
“Lorenzo’s room.”
Enzo nodded.
“Still exists?”
“Yes.”
“Untouched?”
“Mostly.”
“Why?”
Enzo looked at her.
“Because Beatrice insisted.”
Adeline laughed bitterly.
“Of course she did.”
Marco approached from the elevator.
“We have confirmation on the Lake Geneva property.”
“Beatrice?”
“House is empty.”
Enzo’s jaw tightened.
“But we found something.”
“What?”
“A suitcase.”
“Whose?”
Marco looked at Adeline.
“Yours.”
Her blood ran cold.
“What?”
“Clothes in your size. Passport photo.”
“I don’t have a passport.”
“They were making one.”
“Why?”
Marco handed Enzo a photograph.
A forged passport.
Adeline Croft.
Different last name.
One-way itinerary.
Argentina.
Adeline stared.
“She planned to make me disappear.”
Marco nodded.
Enzo’s expression turned lethal.
Then Marco added, “There’s more.”
He held out another photo.
A nursery.
Old-fashioned.
Dusty.
Preserved.
On the wall, in faded gold letters, one name had been painted above a crib.
ADELINE.
Adeline covered her mouth.
Marco looked at Enzo.
“The safe house wasn’t just a safe house.”
“What was it?”
“It belonged to Lorenzo.”
Adeline stared at the photograph.
May you like
Her father had prepared a room for her.
Twenty-six years later, Beatrice had been hiding in it.
