Chapter 10 - The Girl Who Changed the Moretti Empire
Luca drew his weapon.
Alessandro moved in front of us.
The front door opened slowly.
Vivienne stepped inside.
She wore a black dress and the sapphire necklace.
But this time, she wasn't smiling.
“Give me the flash drive.”
Elena stood beside Sasha.
“No.”
Vivienne raised a gun.
“Don't make me ask twice.”
I stepped forward.
“You've already taken enough from us.”
Vivienne looked at me.
“Taken? You have no idea what was stolen from me.”
“Then explain it.”
She laughed bitterly.
“I grew up being told I was special. The Moretti heir. The daughter who would unite two families. Then you appeared, and suddenly everything belonged to you.”
“I never wanted your money.”
“That's easy to say when you don't understand what it means to have nothing.”
I stared at her.
“You have a mansion, a family name, and people who obey your every word.”
“I had those things because Marco promised them to me.”
Alessandro's expression hardened.
“So you were working with him.”
Vivienne nodded.
“He told me you would never marry me if the truth came out.”
“Because you helped threaten my sister?”
“Because I wanted what was mine!”
“You kidnapped Sasha.”
“I didn't hurt her.”
“You put a gun to her life.”
Vivienne's eyes filled.
For a moment, she looked less like a villain and more like a frightened woman who had spent her entire life being manipulated.
Then her gaze returned to the flash drive.
“Give it to me.”
Elena shook her head.
“Your mother would be ashamed.”
Vivienne flinched.
“Don't talk about her.”
“She knew the truth.”
“No!”
“She knew you weren't my daughter.”
The room fell silent.
Vivienne's gun lowered slightly.
Elena continued.
“She knew the hospital records had been altered. But she chose to raise you because she loved you.”
Vivienne stared at her.
“You're lying.”
“No. Isabella spent the last twelve years trying to find you after Marco told her you had died.”
I remembered the woman at the lakeside house.
The woman who had called me her daughter.
The woman who had cried when she saw me.
Vivienne shook her head.
“Stop.”
Elena approached her.
“Your mother loved you. She never wanted you to become this.”
Vivienne's face crumpled.
For a second, I thought she might put the gun down.
Then a second shot rang out.
The bullet struck the wall beside Elena.
Alessandro tackled Vivienne.
Her gun skidded across the floor.
Luca secured her hands.
I rushed to my mother.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
Sasha clutched the flash drive.
Alessandro stood over Vivienne.
“Where is Marco?”
She looked up.
“He's already inside the mansion.”
Alessandro went still.
“What?”
“He wanted you to come here. The mansion is empty. He's looking for the original records.”
Alessandro immediately called Luca's second-in-command.
No answer.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Then his phone vibrated.
A live security image appeared.
The Moretti mansion.
A man stood in the center of the grand staircase.
Gray hair.
A limp.
And the unmistakable scar on his left hand.
Marco.
Alessandro looked at me.
“Stay with your mother and sister.”
I grabbed his arm.
“Don't go alone.”
His expression softened.
“I won't.”
He kissed my forehead, so briefly that I almost wondered whether it had happened.
Then he left with Luca.
For the next forty minutes, I sat beside Sasha and Elena.
No one spoke much.
Finally, Sasha leaned against my shoulder.
“Do you think everything will be okay?”
I looked at my mother.
Then at the flash drive.
“I think we're finally going to find out the truth.”
My phone rang.
Alessandro.
I answered immediately.
“Are you safe?”
“It's over.”
I closed my eyes.
“Marco?”
“Dead. The police have the evidence. His accounts are being seized, and the people who helped him are being arrested.”
I exhaled.
“Are you coming back?”
A pause.
Then his voice softened.
“There's something I need to ask you.”
My heart began racing.
“What?”
“Would you have dinner with me?”
I blinked.
“After all this?”
“Especially after all this.”
I laughed through my tears.
“I'd like that.”
Three months later, our lives were almost unrecognizable.
Elena had returned to Chicago permanently.
Sasha had gone back to school and was preparing for college.
The Moretti empire was being restructured. Alessandro had stepped away from several of the family's illegal operations and was working with investigators to dismantle the network his uncle had built.
He had also purchased the bakery where I used to work.
But he didn't turn it into another luxury business.
He gave it back to the employees.
And he offered me the opportunity to manage it.
I named it Elena's Kitchen.
On opening day, Alessandro arrived wearing a dark suit and carrying a small white box.
“You're late,” I teased.
“I'm the owner.”
“I'm the manager. I can fire you.”
He smiled.
Inside the box was a delicate gold necklace.
A small diamond hung from its center.
“It's beautiful.”
“I thought you deserved something better than a stained apron.”
I laughed.
“I liked my apron.”
“I know.”
He took my hand.
“Nerissa Bennett, the first time I met you, you called me your dream man while standing in a broken elevator.”
I covered my face.
“Please don't remind me.”
“I haven't finished.”
He looked into my eyes.
“I've met politicians, billionaires, kings, and men who would sell their souls to stand where I stand. But the only person who ever made me feel like I was just a man was a girl carrying a box of pastries.”
My eyes filled.
“Alessandro...”
He opened a small velvet box.
“I'm not asking you to marry my name, my family, or my money. I'm asking you to build a life with me. One where you never have to wonder whether you're wanted.”
He lowered himself onto one knee.
“Will you marry me?”
I laughed and cried at the same time.
“Yes.”
He slipped the ring onto my finger.
Then he kissed me as the bakery employees cheered.
For the first time in years, I felt that my life belonged to me.
But the story wasn't finished.
Two weeks after our engagement, a package arrived at the bakery.
There was no return address.
Inside was an old photograph of my mother holding a baby.
On the back, someone had written:
YOU FOUND ONE DAUGHTER. YOU NEVER FOUND THE OTHER.
Beneath the photograph was a hospital bracelet.
It belonged to a newborn girl.
The name printed across it was:
NERISSA MORETTI — TWIN B.
I stared at it.
Alessandro came up behind me.
“What is it?”
I handed him the bracelet.
His face slowly lost its color.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
He turned the bracelet over.
There was a second inscription.
A date.
And a hospital name.
A hospital that had closed twenty years ago.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman's voice whispered:
“Hello, Nerissa.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who is this?”
A pause.
Then the woman said:
“I'm the sister you've been looking for.”
The call ended.
Alessandro took my hand.
For the first time since I'd met him, the most powerful man in Chicago looked genuinely afraid.
And somewhere across the city, a woman wearing the same sapphire necklace stepped out of a black limousine.
She looked at the photograph in her hand.
Then she smiled.
May you like
“It's time to come home.”
THE END... FOR NOW.
