Chapter 7 - VITTORIA VARRIC
Vittoria laughed softly.
Twelve years after her funeral, Matteo heard his mother’s voice as clearly as if she were standing beside him.
“You sound surprised.”
“You’re dead.”
“People have always believed whatever this family paid them to believe.”
“You killed Serena.”
Pause.
“I corrected a problem.”
Matteo’s expression changed.
Liana had seen anger in him.
This was different.
This was hate stripped of heat.
“You touched my wife.”
“Your wife betrayed this family.”
“She was my family.”
“She was temporary.”
Matteo lowered the phone.
Liana caught his wrist.
“Keep her talking.”
He looked at her.
Then raised it again.
“What do you want?”
“The Graves file.”
“You already have copies.”
“Not the original.”
“Why?”
“Because originals persuade juries.”
Matteo almost smiled.
“You’re afraid.”
Vittoria’s silence lasted one beat too long.
He understood.
“You’re afraid of prison.”
“I’m seventy-two years old.”
“Then perhaps you can spend your final years discovering humility.”
“You inherited your father’s sarcasm.”
“I inherited nothing from him worth keeping.”
Vittoria sighed.
“You still think morality protects children.”
Matteo looked toward Nico.
Maribel was fastening him into the SUV.
Elena stood beside her.
Liana remained close to Matteo.
“What does Elias have to do with this?”
Vittoria became quiet.
Liana stepped closer to the phone.
“Where is my son?”
Matteo put the call on speaker.
Vittoria responded.
“Liana Graves.”
Liana felt cold.
“You sound like your sister.”
“Where is Elias?”
“Alive.”
Everything stopped.
Liana’s hand flew to her chest.
Elena began crying.
“Where?”
“You’ll receive instructions.”
“No.”
Liana seized the phone.
“You listen to me.”
Matteo looked at her.
Liana’s voice shook but did not break.
“You took my sister.”
“You took her babies.”
“You took my son.”
“And I am done following instructions.”
Vittoria chuckled.
“Then perhaps you are more like Elena than I expected.”
“Where is he?”
“Bring me the original file.”
“And Nico.”
Matteo took the phone back.
“No.”
“Then Elias leaves the country before sunrise tomorrow.”
Liana stared.
Vittoria continued.
“You may keep one child.”
“Choose.”
The line disconnected.
Liana stood motionless.
Matteo looked at her.
“No.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You are already thinking of trading Nico.”
Her face changed.
“I wouldn’t.”
“You thought it.”
“My son is alive.”
“And Nico is not currency.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Elena stepped between them.
“Stop.”
Neither moved.
Elena’s voice hardened.
“That is what Vittoria wants.”
“She makes people choose.”
“She makes every answer feel like betrayal.”
“She did it to me for nineteen years.”
Liana looked away.
Shame burned through her.
Elena touched her arm.
“You are allowed to want your son.”
Liana cried silently.
“You are allowed to want him more than anything.”
“That does not mean you would sacrifice Nico.”
Matteo’s anger eased.
Liana looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
The admission surprised them both.
They returned to the estate before dawn.
Every staff member was searched.
Passwords reset.
External communications blocked.
Matteo turned the mansion into a fortress.
Elena refused the bedroom offered to her.
She stayed in Nico’s nursery.
For hours, Matteo watched her with his son.
Or the child he had called his son.
There was no resentment in her toward him.
That made it worse.
At six in the morning, Elena found Matteo alone in the study.
“You love him.”
Matteo did not look up.
“Yes.”
“I’m not taking him from you.”
His eyes lifted.
“You just found him.”
“I never stopped looking.”
“Then why?”
Elena sat across from him.
“Because you are his father.”
“I am not.”
“You changed his diapers at three in the morning?”
Matteo said nothing.
“You sat awake when he had a fever?”
“Yes.”
“You learned which bottle temperature he likes?”
“Yes.”
“You walk the hallway when he won’t sleep?”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“Then blood is not the only thing that makes a father.”
Matteo looked toward the window.
“Serena knew.”
“She wanted to tell you.”
“She had nine months.”
“She had seven.”
“What?”
Elena frowned.
“Nico lived with me for almost eight weeks after birth.”
Matteo stared.
“That is impossible.”
“No.”
“I brought him home from the hospital.”
“You brought home a different infant.”
Silence.
Matteo stood.
“What?”
Elena’s face went pale.
“You don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“Nico wasn’t the baby Serena brought home.”
Matteo looked toward the ceiling as if he could see through it to the nursery.
Elena continued.
“The original infant placed with Serena disappeared at seven weeks.”
“Vittoria discovered Serena was investigating.”
“They switched the child again.”
Matteo’s voice turned quiet.
“Who did I raise for the first seven weeks?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is that baby?”
“I don’t know.”
His hands clenched.
“And Nico?”
“Serena brought him here secretly after the switch.”
“She convinced everyone the babies looked different because infants change quickly.”
“She told me she would protect him.”
Matteo walked away.
His entire first year of fatherhood had been built inside a maze of stolen identities.
Then Liana rushed into the study carrying a laptop.
“I found something.”
She turned the screen.
The estate’s old surveillance archives had recovered deleted footage from September fourteenth.
At 11:47 p.m., a woman entered through the service gate.
Vittoria.
Alive.
Walking into Matteo’s home.
At 12:06 a.m., she entered his mother’s old bedroom.
At 12:31, another person joined her.
Matteo enlarged the frame.
Delia.
The housekeeper.
Liana looked at him.
“She knew Vittoria was alive.”
Matteo’s face went blank.
Footsteps sounded behind them.
Delia stood in the doorway.
A small pistol trembled in her hand.
May you like
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Then she pointed it at Elena.
