Chapter 8 - The Second Child
Alessandro read the sentence again.
Then a third time.
He looked toward Catherine.
“What does this mean?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Your husband never mentioned another child?”
“Not directly.”
“Think carefully.”
Catherine pressed her hands together.
“Arthur once told me there were two files.”
“What files?”
“Two women.”
Alessandro's expression tightened.
“Names?”
“He wouldn't say.”
“Why?”
“He was afraid.”
“Of Vincent?”
“Of everyone.”
Daniel took the final page.
“Boss, this could refer to a second beneficiary.”
Alessandro shook his head.
“The wording says a Moretti child.”
“Perhaps another grandchild.”
“Then whose?”
Catherine looked away.
Alessandro noticed.
“Mrs. Bellini.”
She swallowed.
“I heard one name.”
“What name?”
“Lucia.”
The room became very quiet.
Lucia Moretti had been Alessandro's younger sister.
She was twenty-five when she disappeared.
According to the family, she had left New York after an argument with their father and moved overseas.
Alessandro had spent years trying to find her.
Every attempt had failed.
Eventually, he had accepted the possibility that she wanted nothing to do with the family.
But the name still hurt.
“Lucia?” he whispered.
Catherine nodded.
“Arthur mentioned her once.”
“When?”
“About a year before your father died.”
“What did he say?”
“He said the family had paid a terrible price for forcing her away.”
Alessandro looked toward the window.
His younger sister had been the gentlest member of the Moretti family.
She loved music.
She volunteered at an animal shelter.
She once spent an entire afternoon convincing their father not to punish a gardener who had accidentally damaged an expensive statue.
And she had hated the criminal world into which she was born.
“What happened to her?”
Catherine lowered her eyes.
“I don't know.”
Alessandro turned toward Daniel.
“Find everything about Lucia.”
Daniel nodded.
“Where should I start?”
“Every property she rented.”
“Okay.”
“Every account she opened.”
“Understood.”
“Every hospital she visited.”
Daniel paused.
“Boss?”
Alessandro looked at him.
“If she had a child, someone helped her disappear.”
The possibility settled over the room.
His sister.
A missing child.
A trust designed to protect the next generation.
Suddenly, the documents looked less like a financial arrangement and more like an attempt to repair a family destroyed by fear.
A knock interrupted them.
Margaret stood in the doorway.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Alessandro immediately turned.
“Is Lily okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
He exhaled.
“Then what is it?”
“Miss Rosa would like to speak with you.”
He looked toward Catherine.
“Please stay.”
Catherine nodded.
Alessandro followed Margaret into the east wing.
Rosa stood beside a window overlooking the garden.
Lily was asleep in the enormous bed behind her.
“She finally fell asleep,” Rosa whispered.
Alessandro approached.
“Has she eaten?”
“A little.”
“Good.”
He remained a respectful distance away.
Rosa studied his face.
“What happened?”
He hesitated.
“My father left a letter.”
Her expression changed.
“You found it?”
“Arthur Bellini kept the original.”
“What's in it?”
Alessandro looked toward Lily.
“Enough to explain why people have been trying to hurt you.”
Rosa closed her eyes.
“Isabella?”
“Her father.”
“Vincent Romano.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“You know him?”
Rosa's face tightened.
“I met him once.”
“When?”
“Before Lily was born.”
“Where?”
“At the hospital.”
Alessandro went still.
“After the van incident?”
She nodded.
“He came into my room pretending to be a friend of your father.”
“What did he say?”
“That I should stop making trouble.”
Alessandro clenched his jaw.
“Anything else?”
“He told me something strange.”
“What?”
“He said history repeats itself when women forget their place.”
Alessandro's expression hardened.
Rosa continued.
“I didn't understand what he meant.”
“Now I do.”
She stared at him.
“What are you talking about?”
He lowered his voice.
“Vincent Romano was responsible for my mother's death.”
Rosa covered her mouth.
“Oh, Alessandro.”
“For years, I thought it was an accident.”
He looked away.
“My father knew.”
Rosa stepped closer.
“I'm sorry.”
Alessandro gave a bitter laugh.
“That's what I should be saying to you.”
“You didn't know.”
“I should have.”
“That's not the same thing.”
He looked at her.
She continued quietly.
“You can't be responsible for every terrible thing the people around you have done.”
He almost smiled.
“That's the problem with my life, Rosa.”
“What?”
“Sometimes I am.”
Silence settled between them.
Outside, the afternoon sun moved across the garden.
For a moment, they stood like two people who had forgotten how to speak honestly to each other.
Then Rosa reached into her pocket.
She withdrew a small folded photograph.
“I kept this.”
Alessandro looked down.
It was a picture of Lily as a newborn.
Her tiny face was wrapped in a hospital blanket.
Her eyes were barely open.
On the back, Rosa had written a date.
Alessandro touched the photograph.
“She was so small.”
“She weighed six pounds, four ounces.”
His throat tightened.
“Were you alone?”
Rosa hesitated.
“My mother was there.”
“And me?”
She said nothing.
He nodded.
“I know.”
For a long moment, he stared at the photograph.
Then he asked the question that had been burning inside him all day.
“Was there ever a time you wanted me to find you?”
Rosa's eyes filled.
“Every day.”
He looked up.
She gave a trembling smile.
“Every single day, Alessandro.”
His composure finally broke.
He lowered his head.
Rosa moved closer.
And for the first time in four years, she placed her hand against his cheek.
He closed his eyes.
Neither spoke.
Then a small voice came from the bed.
“Mommy?”
They turned.
Lily was sitting upright.
Her dark curls were tangled around her face.
She looked at Rosa.
Then at Alessandro.
“Big man sad?”
Rosa wiped her eyes.
“No, sweetheart.”
Lily climbed down from the bed.
She walked across the carpet in her duck socks.
Then she held up her stuffed rabbit.
“Bun makes better.”
Alessandro lowered himself to one knee.
“Does he?”
Lily nodded seriously.
She pressed Bun into his hands.
Alessandro stared at the rabbit.
Then at the little girl.
His eyes filled.
“Thank you.”
Lily smiled.
And suddenly, without hesitation, she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.
Alessandro froze.
He had held weapons.
Signed contracts.
Buried enemies.
Commanded men who would follow him into almost any danger.
But nothing in his life had prepared him for the feeling of his daughter's arms around his neck.
He closed his eyes.
Then he held her gently.
Rosa watched them.
For the first time, she allowed herself to imagine a future in which Lily might be safe.
The moment lasted less than a minute.
Then Marco entered.
His expression was grim.
“Boss.”
Alessandro looked up.
“What?”
“We found Lucia.”
Alessandro slowly stood.
“Where?”
Marco swallowed.
“In a private medical facility outside Philadelphia.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
Alessandro closed his eyes.
Relief rushed through him.
But Marco was not finished.
“Boss, there's something you need to know.”
“What?”
“She's been registered under a false name for years.”
Alessandro stared at him.
“And?”
Marco hesitated.
“She has a little boy.”
A pause.
“He's four years old.”
Alessandro's eyes widened.
May you like
Marco took a breath.
“And according to the records, his father is Vincent Romano.”
