Chapter 9 - The Mother Who Gave Away an Empire
Eleanor Moretti had signed away control of a fortune worth more than two hundred million dollars.
And she had never told her son.
Dante returned home shortly after midnight.
He found Eleanor awake in the sitting room.
Clara sat beside her.
A cup of untouched tea rested on the table.
“Dante?” Eleanor asked.
He approached slowly.
“Mom, I need to ask you something.”
She heard the strain in his voice.
“What happened?”
“Richard Sterling sent me a video.”
Eleanor's hands tightened.
“Is Gabriel hurt?”
“No. It's about Bellweather.”
She went still.
Dante sat opposite her.
“Did you sign documents transferring the company's assets seventeen years ago?”
Eleanor lowered her head.
“Yes.”
Clara looked startled.
Dante felt his chest tighten.
“Why?”
“Because your father asked me to.”
“Did you understand what you were signing?”
“Some of it.”
“Mom.”
Eleanor lifted her chin.
“I wasn't helpless, Dante. I could still see then. I read those papers.”
Dante immediately softened.
“I know. I'm sorry.”
She took a breath.
“Antonio told me Bellweather had been used for things he regretted. He wanted to separate the legitimate assets from the money Richard had stolen.”
“By transferring everything?”
“Not everything.”
Dante leaned forward.
“Then what?”
Eleanor reached for Clara's hand.
“Clara, would you bring me the blue folder in my wardrobe?”
Clara left.
Eleanor continued.
“Your father established a trust for people harmed by the company's activities. Families who had lost businesses. Employees who'd been cheated. People whose lives had been damaged.”
Dante stared.
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“Because he was ashamed.”
“Dad was never ashamed of anything.”
Eleanor smiled sadly.
“He was ashamed of more things than you knew.”
Clara returned carrying the folder.
Inside were copies of old legal documents.
Dante examined them.
The Bellweather restitution trust had been established seventeen years earlier.
Eleanor was its original trustee.
Antonio had been named its administrator.
The beneficiaries included dozens of families.
One name caught Dante's attention.
Sarah Ross.
Caleb's sister.
Another was Daniel Cross's widow.
Dante looked up.
“Dad was compensating the victims.”
Eleanor nodded.
“He couldn't undo what happened. But he tried to make things right.”
Dante turned another page.
The trust had originally held controlling shares in Bellweather Holdings.
But a later amendment transferred voting authority to an independent trustee.
The name had been redacted.
“Who was the trustee?” Dante asked.
Eleanor shook her head.
“Antonio said it was someone Richard couldn't intimidate.”
“Did you meet this person?”
“No.”
Dante stared at the papers.
“Then why did Vanessa say you signed away the fortune?”
“Because Richard never accepted that the money wasn't his.”
Dante rubbed his forehead.
“Mom, Vanessa tried to put you in a care facility and forge my signature. She was trying to gain control of your trust.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I know.”
“But why would Richard need your signature if the voting authority had already been transferred?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“Because the transfer could be challenged if I was declared unable to manage my affairs.”
Dante looked at her.
“And Vanessa intended to become your trustee.”
“Yes.”
Clara's face hardened.
“She wasn't just trying to remove Mrs. Moretti from the photographs.”
“No,” Eleanor whispered. “She was trying to remove me from the decisions.”
Dante took his mother's hand.
“That's over.”
Eleanor squeezed his fingers.
“Not until Gabriel is safe.”
The next morning, Dante met Caleb in the garden.
The security chief stood beside the fountain, looking exhausted.
“Did you find Ethan?” Dante asked.
“Not yet. Police are checking the vehicles that left the guesthouse.”
Dante nodded.
“And Richard?”
“Still missing.”
Dante looked at him.
“Caleb, I know you helped Gabriel six years ago.”
Caleb lowered his eyes.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“Gabriel was being hunted. I believed Richard had people inside your organization.”
“Did he?”
“Martin was one. Vanessa became another.”
Dante studied him.
“And you?”
Caleb looked directly at him.
“I made terrible choices. But I never gave Richard information that would hurt Eleanor or Gabriel.”
Dante remained silent.
Caleb continued.
“I understand if you never trust me again.”
Dante took a breath.
“I don't know if I can.”
Caleb nodded.
“But right now, a twelve-year-old boy is missing.”
Dante held out his hand.
“Then help the police find him.”
Caleb shook it.
For the first time in days, the two men had a clear purpose.
Not revenge.
Not money.
A child's life.
At 2:15 p.m., Clara received another call from Violet.
“Is Mrs. Moretti safe?” Violet asked.
“Yes.”
“Where's Dante?”
“Working with investigators.”
Violet hesitated.
“Tell him I found the original Bellweather trust agreement.”
Clara's pulse quickened.
“Where?”
“In a storage unit Catherine rented under another name.”
“Can you bring it here?”
“Not until Gabriel agrees.”
“Why?”
“Because the documents contain something that could destroy him.”
Clara swallowed.
“What?”
Violet lowered her voice.
“His name is on the original transfer.”
Clara frowned.
“As a beneficiary?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“As the independent trustee.”
Clara stared.
“Gabriel controls Bellweather?”
“Legally, yes. But he never exercised that authority.”
“Why not?”
“Because he believed taking control would expose him and lead Richard to our family.”
Clara sat down.
“Your family?”
Violet paused.
Then said:
“Gabriel and I are married.”
Clara covered her mouth.
“What?”
“We married eight years ago.”
“Does Eleanor know?”
“No.”
“Does Dante?”
“No.”
Violet's voice trembled.
“We have a daughter.”
Clara went still.
“How old?”
“Five.”
Clara thought of Eleanor waiting seventeen years to see Gabriel again.
Of Dante grieving at an empty grave.
Of an entire family separated by fear.
“What's her name?” she whispered.
“Grace.”
Clara began crying.
Violet continued.
“Gabriel wants to come home. He wants Grace to know her grandmother and uncle.”
“Then why hasn't he?”
“Because Richard has threatened her.”
Clara gripped the phone.
“Where is Grace?”
“With someone we trust.”
“Is she safe?”
“For now.”
Before Clara could ask another question, Violet spoke urgently.
“There's something else. We found the name of the person who has been helping Richard.”
Clara froze.
“Who?”
“Someone Gabriel trusted for years.”
“Tell me.”
Violet whispered a name.
Clara's face drained of color.
“No.”
“I'm sorry.”
“That can't be true.”
“We have the bank records.”
Clara stood so quickly her chair scraped across the floor.
“Where's Gabriel?”
“He's going to confront him.”
“Stop him!”
“I tried.”
“Violet, listen to me. If Gabriel goes there alone, he could be killed.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Violet gasped.
“Someone's at the door.”
“Violet?”
Footsteps.
A muffled shout.
Then the call ended.
Clara immediately dialed Dante.
He answered.
“Clara?”
“Sir, you need to come home.”
“What's wrong?”
“Violet called. Gabriel is married. He has a little girl.”
Silence.
Then Dante whispered:
“What?”
“Her name is Grace. But that's not all.”
“Clara, slow down.”
“She found evidence identifying Richard's inside accomplice.”
“Who?”
Clara's voice broke.
“MARGARET VALE.”
Dante went completely still.
The woman who had protected Gabriel.
The woman who had delivered his father's secrets.
The woman who had convinced Dante that his brother was alive.
Clara continued:
“Violet says Margaret has been receiving payments from Richard for years.”
Dante stared at the garden.
Then remembered something.
Margaret had known where Gabriel was.
She had known about Catherine.
She had known which evidence Antonio had hidden.
And she had known exactly what to say to make Dante trust her.
“Clara,” he said, “where's my mother?”
“In her sitting room.”
“Get her somewhere secure.”
“Why?”
Dante's blood ran cold.
“Because Margaret knows every way into this house.”
At that moment, Eleanor called from the sitting room.
“Clara?”
The maid turned.
Eleanor stood beside the doorway, listening.
“There's someone here to see me.”
Clara froze.
A familiar elderly woman's voice answered from the hallway.
“Hello, Eleanor.”
Margaret Vale stepped into view.
In one hand, she held a black leather bag.
In the other, a small photograph.
May you like
She smiled.
“I'VE COME TO COLLECT WHAT ANTONIO PROMISED ME.”
