Chapter 9
Nobody believed Vanessa.
Not at first.
Giovanni actually laughed.
A short, empty sound.
“My father died in 2002.”
Vanessa whispered through the speaker, “That is what you were told.”
“I saw his coffin.”
“You never saw his body.”
Giovanni stopped.
He tried to answer.
Couldn't.
Because she was right.
Antonio Moretti had supposedly died in Switzerland after emergency heart surgery.
The body was returned in a sealed coffin.
The family was told severe postmortem complications made viewing impossible.
Victoria had insisted they remember him as he had been.
Giovanni had hated it.
But he was grieving.
He accepted it.
Marco had too.
Now Giovanni looked at his brother.
Marco's face showed the same realization.
“We never saw him,” Marco whispered.
Reyes took control.
“Vanessa, where is Antonio?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“Then how do you know he's alive?”
“My husband works for him.”
“Where?”
“Different locations. Private properties. Mostly overseas.”
“Why would Antonio fake his death?”
“To escape investigations.”
Giovanni knew what she meant.
His father had built the original Moretti empire during a brutal era.
Construction unions.
Political favors.
Tax cases.
Whispers of organized crime.
Nothing had ever been proven.
Antonio died just as federal investigators began looking at several overseas accounts.
At least, they thought he died.
Vanessa continued.
“He rebuilt quietly. Shell companies. Trusts. Private security.”
Sofia asked, “V-2?”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
“Victoria Two.”
Giovanni frowned.
“What?”
“Antonio named the operation after your mother.”
Victoria.
V.
The second life.
V-2.
Vanessa explained.
“When Victoria hired Adrian to suppress your memories of Sofia, Antonio discovered the treatment.”
“How?” Giovanni asked.
“Vale told him.”
Victoria sank into a chair.
Her face emptied.
Giovanni looked at her.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You swear?”
“I swear.”
For once, Giovanni believed her.
The horror in her eyes was too raw.
Vanessa continued.
“Antonio realized Cross had created psychological access to you.”
Emilio's face twisted.
“Psychological access?”
“Triggers. Dissociation. Memory gaps. Suggestibility.”
“You make him sound like a computer.”
“My husband talked about him that way.”
Giovanni looked sick.
Vanessa whispered, “I'm sorry.”
“Keep talking.”
“Antonio began paying Cross. Rebecca became the contact inside your family. Leonard handled money.”
Reyes asked, “Why would Leonard help?”
“Blackmail.”
“What did Antonio have on him?”
“I don't know.”
Reyes glanced at Elena's diary.
“And Rebecca?”
Silence.
“Vanessa?”
“My mother didn't know Antonio was alive at first.”
Rebecca.
Her biological mother.
Vanessa sounded as if even saying it hurt.
“When she discovered it, she tried to leave.”
“What happened?”
“Antonio showed her where I lived.”
Sofia understood.
“He threatened you.”
“Yes.”
“And Cross was your husband.”
“I married Adrian before I knew what he had done.”
Giovanni asked, “Does Cross know you're talking to us?”
“I don't think so.”
“Then get somewhere safe.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Vanessa whispered, “Because I'm in his house.”
Reyes stepped away and began tracing the call through a contact.
“Address?”
“I can't say it.”
“Vanessa, if you want help—”
“You don't understand. He monitors everything.”
“Then why can you call?”
“He left his secure phone unlocked.”
A door slammed on Vanessa's end.
She gasped.
“I have to go.”
“Wait.”
“Elena found Antonio.”
Giovanni froze.
“What?”
“On San Cordova.”
Sofia stared.
“My mother went there to see me.”
“She did.”
“And Antonio?”
“Was there too.”
Giovanni gripped the table.
“Did she speak to him?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I don't know everything.”
“Tell me what you know.”
Vanessa rushed.
“Elena recorded the meeting.”
“Where?”
“She hid the recording.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Footsteps sounded through the phone.
Vanessa whispered, “Ask Rosa about the blue room.”
Then the line died.
Reyes immediately called his contact.
“Did you get it?”
A pause.
“Send me the address.”
He looked at Giovanni.
“Connecticut.”
They moved.
Police were notified this time.
No more private-family solutions.
Reyes gave the DA investigator everything they had.
Giovanni hated losing control.
But control had nearly destroyed them.
It was time to trust people who weren't named Moretti.
Vanessa's traced location was a modern house outside Greenwich.
Police surrounded it.
No Adrian Cross.
No Vanessa.
The house was empty.
But not abandoned.
Coffee still warm.
Laptop running.
A basement treatment room.
Soundproof walls.
Medical equipment.
Audio systems.
A chair bolted to the floor.
Giovanni stopped at the doorway.
His breathing changed.
Three clicks sounded in his memory.
Pause.
Three clicks.
He grabbed the wall.
Reyes immediately noticed.
“Giovanni?”
“Turn off every electronic device.”
“What?”
“Now!”
An officer disconnected a small speaker.
Giovanni sank against the wall.
Clarissa caught him.
“Dad.”
Images came.
A room.
Not this room.
Another one.
Fifteen years earlier.
Cross standing beside him.
Rebecca in the corner.
A metronome.
Click.
Click.
Click.
A voice.
Antonio's voice.
Giovanni gasped.
“I remember him.”
Everyone froze.
“Who?” Emilio asked.
“My father.”
Giovanni closed his eyes.
“He was there.”
Marco stared.
“When?”
“After my accident.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Giovanni saw more.
Antonio older than he remembered.
Beard.
Cap.
Standing behind one-way glass.
Cross asking Giovanni questions.
Where is Sofia?
Giovanni refusing.
Cross injecting something.
Antonio stepping inside.
You disappoint me.
Giovanni opened his eyes.
“He wanted Sofia.”
Sofia backed away.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Then another memory.
His father shouting.
That child proves everything.
Giovanni whispered the words.
Reyes frowned.
“Proves what?”
Victoria suddenly looked ill.
Everyone turned.
Giovanni saw it.
“Mother.”
She sat slowly.
“Antonio's affair with Isabella.”
“So?”
Victoria shook her head.
“No.”
“Mother.”
“You don't understand.”
“You said that before. It didn't work then either.”
Victoria looked at Sofia.
“Antonio and Isabella weren't simply having an affair.”
Sofia's expression hardened.
“What does that mean?”
Victoria's lips trembled.
“Isabella was helping federal investigators.”
Marco stared.
“Aunt Isabella was an informant?”
“Yes.”
Giovanni remembered his aunt.
Beautiful.
Funny.
Fearless.
She disappeared from family gatherings around the time Antonio supposedly died.
Victoria always said Isabella had moved to South America.
Nobody questioned it.
“Where is she?” Giovanni asked.
“I don't know.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Twenty-four years ago.”
“The year Dad died.”
Victoria nodded.
Reyes saw the connection.
“What did Isabella know?”
“Everything.”
“Accounts?”
“Yes.”
“Crimes?”
Victoria looked away.
“Yes.”
“And Antonio knew she was cooperating?”
“Eventually.”
Giovanni's chest tightened.
“What happened to her?”
“I don't know.”
He grabbed the table.
“Stop saying that!”
“I don't!”
Victoria cried.
“She disappeared. Antonio died days later. I thought they were both gone.”
Sofia looked at the DNA report.
“If I'm Antonio and Isabella's daughter…”
Reyes finished.
“You could prove the relationship.”
“But DNA doesn't prove she was an informant.”
“No,” Giovanni said.
“But maybe Antonio believed Isabella left evidence with the embryo.”
Everyone looked at him.
Emilio frowned.
“How do you leave evidence with an embryo?”
“You don't.”
Sofia suddenly understood.
“You leave it with the clinic.”
Dr. Vale.
Illegal storage.
Private records.
Isabella may have hidden documents among medical files.
Victoria covered her mouth.
“Vale.”
Giovanni turned.
“What?”
“Before he died, Vale called me.”
“When?”
“Nine years ago.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me Antonio's ghost was still killing people.”
The room went silent.
“You never told me?”
“I thought he was drunk.”
Reyes rubbed his forehead.
“What else?”
“He said the girl was the key.”
Sofia stared.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“He didn't mean my DNA.”
Victoria shook her head.
“Maybe not.”
Sofia pulled out her phone.
“Rosa.”
Giovanni nodded.
“The blue room.”
They called.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Sofia's fear rose.
“She always answers me.”
Reyes said, “Where exactly is she in San Cordova?”
Sofia gave the address.
The Moretti house.
Reyes contacted local authorities through federal channels.
But Sofia was already opening her laptop.
“The house has cameras.”
“You have access?”
“Rosa gave it to me last week.”
She logged in.
Front entrance.
Empty.
Kitchen.
Empty.
Garden.
Empty.
Living room.
A chair knocked over.
Clarissa whispered, “Something happened.”
Sofia switched cameras.
Hallway.
No one.
Back patio.
No one.
Then the old storage wing.
A blue-painted door.
“The blue room.”
She clicked the camera outside it.
The door was open.
Sofia had never seen it open.
Rosa always kept it locked.
Sofia switched to an interior camera.
The screen loaded.
Everyone stopped breathing.
The room was blue.
Old wallpaper.
A bed.
Shelves.
Boxes.
Rosa sat in a chair.
Her hands were tied.
A man stood behind her.
Older.
White hair.
Tall.
Thin.
Giovanni gripped the edge of the desk.
Marco whispered, “No.”
Victoria made a choking sound.
The man looked directly at the camera.
As if he knew they were watching.
Antonio Moretti.
Alive.
Twenty-four years after his funeral.
He smiled.
Then he leaned toward Rosa and said something.
The camera had no audio.
Sofia zoomed in.
Rosa looked terrified.
Antonio held up a piece of paper.
A flight itinerary.
New York to San Cordova.
Departure tomorrow morning.
Then he pointed toward the camera.
Toward them.
He knew they were watching.
He raised one finger.
Then another.
Then another.
Three.
Pause.
Three.
Giovanni staggered backward.
The trigger.
Antonio smiled wider.
The screen went black.
Emilio caught his father.
“Dad!”
Giovanni couldn't hear him.
Three clicks echoed inside his skull.
A door opened in his memory.
A command.
Not Cross's voice.
Antonio's.
When you see three and three, protect the family.
At any cost.
Giovanni's vision blurred.
He looked at Sofia.
Suddenly, another memory slammed into him.
San Cordova.
Fifteen years ago.
He had been there.
He had seen Sofia.
He had held her.
She had been seven.
Terrified.
He remembered kneeling in front of her.
Promising she was safe.
Then Antonio appeared behind him.
Not in person.
On a video call.
Antonio gave an order.
Bring the girl to me.
Giovanni had refused.
That was why Cross erased the memory again.
Giovanni looked at Sofia.
Tears filled his eyes.
“You knew me.”
Sofia stared.
“What?”
“Fifteen years ago.”
Her face changed.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Rosa had told Sofia that Elena's husband never came.
That Giovanni had never known her.
Another lie meant to protect her.
Giovanni whispered:
“I met you.”
Sofia began shaking.
“What happened?”
He closed his eyes.
May you like
And remembered.
“I helped you escape.”
