Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN BEHIND THE FAMILY SECRET
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The key opened a deposit box at a private bank in Chicago.
Dominic wanted to send a security team ahead, but Lucy refused to let another group of armed men decide what she was allowed to know about her own life.
They arrived shortly after the bank opened.
The manager recognized Dominic immediately and led them to a private room.
Inside the deposit box were three items: a leather journal, a flash drive, and an envelope containing a photograph of Elena Moretti with two women.
One was Bianca.
The other was Clara Bellini.
Lucy opened the journal.
The first pages contained dates, hospital records, and names. Near the middle, she found a series of entries written in Elena's handwriting.
Vittorio believes money can repair everything. He has paid doctors to alter records and lawyers to silence witnesses. He says he is protecting our children.
But he is not protecting them. He is protecting the people who took them.
Lucy looked up.
“Who took us?”
Dominic turned a page.
The answer was written beneath a date twelve years earlier.
The Bellini family arranged the exchange.
Lucy stared at the words.
“Clara's family?”
Dominic nodded slowly.
“Her father was a hospital administrator. He had access to the records.”
The journal described a scheme in which newborn identities were switched to conceal a child who had been born with a rare inherited blood disorder. The family involved feared that the diagnosis would expose a series of medical experiments funded through their private foundation.
The details were fragmented, but one thing was clear: Elena had discovered the scheme and threatened to expose it.
Andrew Parker had helped her.
And someone had decided that both of them needed to disappear.
Lucy plugged the flash drive into the bank's secure terminal.
A video file opened.
Elena appeared on the screen, older and thinner than in the photographs. She sat in a plain room, looking directly into the camera.
“If Lucy is watching this, then I have failed to protect her.”
Lucy covered her mouth.
Elena continued.
“Your father, Andrew, did not die because of the Morettis. He died because he discovered that someone inside our family had been selling the children's identities for years.”
Dominic leaned closer to the screen.
“Who?”
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“I believed it was Vittorio. I was wrong.”
The video flickered.
A door opened behind Elena.
Someone entered the room, but their face remained outside the camera's view.
Elena turned.
“You promised me you would stop.”
A man's voice answered.
“I promised you I would stop when it was safe.”
The screen went black.
Lucy stared at Dominic.
“Do you recognize the voice?”
He didn't answer.
She played the clip again.
The voice was older, roughened by age, but familiar.
Dominic reached for the terminal and stopped the recording.
“That's impossible.”
“What is it?”
He looked at her.
“It's my father's voice.”
“Your father is dead.”
“I know.”
The bank manager knocked on the door.
“Mr. Moretti, I'm sorry to interrupt. There's someone downstairs asking for Miss Parker.”
Dominic stood immediately.
“Who?”
The manager swallowed.
“She says she's Bianca Russo's sister.”
Lucy exchanged a glance with Dominic.
“Bianca has a sister?”
The manager nodded.
“She gave us a message. She says she has the original hospital records and proof of what happened to Andrew Parker.”
“Where is she?” Lucy asked.
“In the lobby.”
Dominic reached for his coat.
Lucy caught his hand.
“Wait.”
He looked down at her.
“We don't know who she is.”
“Exactly. So we don't walk into a trap.”
For the first time, he smiled at her without trying to hide it.
“Now you're thinking like a Moretti.”
Lucy frowned.
“I'm thinking like someone who would prefer not to be shot before lunch.”
They left through the underground garage and watched the lobby cameras from the security room.
A woman stood beside the reception desk, holding a manila envelope.
She looked directly into the camera.
Then she lifted the envelope and turned it around.
Written across the front were four words.
ASK DOMINIC ABOUT HIS WIFE.
Lucy looked at him.
“You've never been married.”
May you like
Dominic's face had gone white.
“No,” he said quietly. “But someone once tried to convince me that I was.”
