Chapter 4 - The Man Wearing His Father's Face
Luca stood over Dr. Reed's body.
The bullet had entered beneath the doctor's left shoulder.
There was no pulse.
One of the guards checked the basement entrance.
“Boss, nobody came through.”
“Find my father.”
The guards scattered.
Luca crouched beside the body.
Reed's right hand was clenched around something.
A small silver pendant.
Luca carefully opened his fingers.
Inside the pendant was a photograph of two boys.
One was Luca.
The other was Michael.
They were standing beside a woman whose face had been scratched out.
On the back were three words.
Two sons. One father.
Luca slipped the pendant into his pocket.
Then he heard a soft voice behind him.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Emily stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Her eyes were red.
“Did you know Dr. Reed?”
“No.”
“Then why did you follow him?”
Emily froze.
Luca noticed.
“What did you just say?”
She looked toward the dead doctor.
“I didn't.”
“You said I followed him.”
“I meant—”
“Emily, tell me the truth.”
She lowered her head.
“My mother worked at St. Mary's Hospital.”
Luca waited.
“She was a nurse. Thirteen years ago, she disappeared.”
“Was she connected to Michael?”
Emily nodded.
“She was the nurse who delivered him.”
Luca stared.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because my mother made me promise never to speak about the Moretti family.”
“Is she alive?”
Emily shook her head.
“She died last winter.”
She reached into her pocket and produced an old cassette tape.
“Before she died, she gave me this.”
Luca looked at the label.
For Luca. When Antonio returns.
He stared at the words.
“Why didn't you give it to me earlier?”
“I didn't know what it meant until tonight.”
Luca took the tape.
They went upstairs to the private office.
Vanessa was gone.
Her champagne glass remained on the desk.
The engagement ring was beside it.
Luca picked it up.
Then he noticed the window was open.
“She escaped,” he muttered.
Emily looked at the glass.
“No, sir.”
“What?”
“She left something.”
A tiny camera was attached beneath the desk.
Its red light was still blinking.
Luca pulled it out.
The device contained a memory card.
He inserted it into his computer.
The first recording showed Vanessa entering the office two nights earlier.
She looked directly into the camera.
Then she placed a folder on Luca's desk.
The second recording showed Antonio entering the mansion's basement.
He was wearing the same black coat he had worn that evening.
But he wasn't alone.
A second man walked beside him.
The man's face was hidden beneath a cap.
Then Antonio turned toward the camera.
His lips moved.
Luca paused the footage.
He enlarged the image.
Antonio was saying something.
Emily leaned closer.
“What is it?”
Luca read the words.
He is already inside.
A sudden knock interrupted them.
Three slow knocks.
Then two quick ones.
Luca reached for his gun.
“Who is it?”
A woman's voice answered.
“Your mother.”
Luca opened the door.
Nobody stood outside.
Instead, a small package rested on the floor.
He picked it up.
Inside was a photograph of Isabella sitting in a hospital room.
Her hair was shorter.
Her face was thinner.
But she was alive.
A handwritten note was attached.
Come alone. Midnight. The old church on Madison Street.
Luca looked at the clock.
11:43 p.m.
Emily grabbed his sleeve.
“Don't go.”
“Why?”
“My mother told me something before she died.”
“What?”
“She said the woman who gave birth to Michael wasn't Isabella.”
Luca stared at her.
“What?”
Emily's voice trembled.
“My mother delivered two babies that night. But the woman in the hospital records wasn't your mother.”
Luca slowly lowered the photograph.
“Who was it?”
Emily shook her head.
“She never told me.”
Luca took his coat.
“Then I'm going to find out.”
He left two guards with Emily and drove toward the church.
The streets were almost empty.
Rain covered the windshield.
At 11:58, he arrived.
The church doors were unlocked.
Inside, hundreds of candles illuminated the old wooden pews.
A woman stood near the altar.
Her back was turned.
“Mom?”
She slowly turned around.
Luca's breath caught.
Isabella looked almost exactly as she had in his childhood memories.
Older, thinner, but unmistakably his mother.
She stepped toward him.
“My baby.”
Luca couldn't move.
Then she embraced him.
For several seconds, he allowed himself to be a child again.
He buried his face against her shoulder.
But when she pulled away, he noticed something.
A fresh scar ran along her neck.
“Who hurt you?”
Isabella touched the scar.
“Your father.”
Luca stepped back.
“Antonio?”
She shook her head.
“Not the man you saw tonight.”
“What does that mean?”
His mother looked toward the church doors.
“Because the real Antonio Moretti is still alive.”
Luca frowned.
“Then who came to my engagement party?”
Isabella began crying.
“His identical twin brother.”
Luca stared at her.
“Antonio never had a twin.”
“He did.”
“What's his name?”
Isabella took a photograph from her purse.
Two identical men stood beside each other.
One was Antonio.
The other had the same scar above his left eyebrow.
But beneath the second man's face was a name Luca had never heard.
Adrian Moretti.
Isabella whispered:
“He's the man who killed Michael.”
May you like
Then she looked at her son.
“And he's the man who raised him.”
