Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
“VICTOR HARLAN ISN'T A PRISONER, LUCA. HE'S THE REASON YOUR FATHER DIED.”
Vanessa's accusation hung over the empty ballroom.
Luca looked from his fiancée to the photograph of the elderly man.
“That's a serious accusation.”
“I know.”
“Then prove it.”
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
“My father has been searching for Victor for years. He believes Victor murdered Antonio.”
Thomas Miller rose so abruptly that his chair scraped against the floor.
“That's a lie.”
Vanessa turned on him.
“You weren't there when Antonio died.”
“Neither were you.”
“I know what my father told me.”
“And your father has been lying since before you were born.”
Vanessa's mouth fell open.
Luca raised one hand.
“Enough.”
He looked at Caleb.
“Find out where that photograph was taken. And get someone to Bellwether Private Storage. Quietly.”
Caleb nodded and left.
Luca turned back to Vanessa.
“Tell me exactly what you know.”
She stared at the floor.
“My father first told me about Victor when I was seventeen.”
That was fifteen years earlier.
The same year Victor disappeared.
“He said Victor had stolen from the Morettis. That he was dangerous. That if Victor ever contacted me, I should call him immediately.”
“Why would Victor contact a seventeen-year-old girl?”
Vanessa didn't answer.
“Vanessa.”
“Because I had something he wanted.”
Luca felt his stomach tighten.
“What?”
She reached for the diamond necklace around her throat.
For three years, he'd seen her wear it at formal dinners.
A delicate gold chain.
A small oval pendant.
She opened the clasp and placed it in his palm.
“My mother gave me this before she died.”
Luca examined it.
The pendant contained a tiny photograph of a woman with dark hair.
“Your mother?”
Vanessa nodded.
“Evelyn Sterling.”
“I know who your mother was.”
“No. You know who my father said she was.”
Thomas made a small, wounded sound.
Luca looked at him.
“Thomas?”
The gardener was staring at the photograph.
“I remember that woman.”
Vanessa turned.
“Of course you do.”
Thomas shook his head.
“She used to come to the estate.”
Luca frowned.
“My father's estate?”
“Yes. Long before you knew Vanessa.”
Luca looked at the pendant again.
“Why?”
Thomas swallowed.
“She worked with Victor.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
The room went quiet.
Luca felt a strange pressure behind his ribs.
“Your mother was involved in the investigation?”
Vanessa nodded.
“She was an accountant. She discovered the missing trust money before your father did.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I promised her I wouldn't.”
Luca stared at her.
“Your mother died eighteen years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Then what promise could possibly justify lying to me for three years?”
Vanessa's voice broke.
“The promise I made beside her hospital bed.”
She sank into a chair.
“My mother knew my father was dangerous. She told me that if I ever met a Moretti, I should never reveal who she really was.”
Luca looked toward Thomas.
“Did my father know Evelyn?”
Thomas nodded.
“Very well.”
“Were they having an affair?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
“Evelyn was trying to save your family.”
Vanessa began crying harder.
For the first time, Luca wondered whether her terror was something more complicated than guilt.
But he couldn't forget the fifty-thousand-dollar bribe.
“Then why did you try to steal the box?”
Vanessa lifted her face.
“Because my father told me the box contained proof that my mother betrayed him.”
“And you believed him?”
“He showed me documents.”
“Where are they?”
“In his office.”
Luca held out his hand.
“Your phone.”
She hesitated.
“Luca—”
“Call him.”
Vanessa stared.
“What?”
“Call Robert. Tell him the box was opened.”
“He already knows.”
“Then he shouldn't be surprised.”
She dialed.
Robert Sterling answered on the second ring.
“Vanessa.”
His voice was calm.
“Daddy, we need to talk.”
“Are you alone?”
She looked at Luca.
“No.”
A pause.
Then Robert spoke.
“Hello, Luca.”
Luca took the phone.
“Robert.”
“Happy birthday.”
“Where's Victor Harlan?”
Silence.
“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Then perhaps you'd like to explain why your daughter offered fifty thousand dollars for something my father buried twelve years ago.”
Robert sighed.
“Antonio always did enjoy making things complicated.”
Luca's fingers tightened around the phone.
“You knew about the box.”
“I knew your father was a paranoid man.”
“He named you in a photograph.”
“That doesn't make me a criminal.”
“No. But the missing money might.”
Robert chuckled softly.
“Be careful, son.”
“Don't call me that.”
“You're engaged to my daughter.”
“Not for much longer if you keep lying.”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Robert's tone changed.
“Put Vanessa back on.”
“No.”
“Luca.”
“Tell me where Victor is.”
Another pause.
Then Robert said something that made Thomas grip the table.
“Ask your gardener what happened at the greenhouse on November seventeenth.”
Thomas went pale.
Luca noticed immediately.
“What happened there?”
Robert ignored him.
“Ask Thomas why your father stopped trusting him.”
The call ended.
Luca turned.
“Thomas?”
The gardener lowered his head.
“I hoped he'd forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?”
Thomas's hands began trembling.
“Fifteen years ago, Victor came to the greenhouse carrying a leather briefcase.”
“What was inside?”
“Documents. Photographs. Bank records.”
“And?”
“Your father told me to hide him until morning.”
Luca waited.
Thomas's eyes filled.
“But I made a terrible mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“I told someone Victor was there.”
“Who?”
Thomas couldn't meet his eyes.
“Robert Sterling.”
Luca stepped backward.
“You told Robert?”
“I thought he was helping your father.”
“What happened?”
Thomas began crying.
“Three men arrived that night. Victor escaped through the irrigation tunnel, but one of them found your father's driver.”
Luca remembered the funeral.
Michael Dane.
A quiet man who had driven Antonio for twenty years.
Officially, Michael had died in a highway accident.
“Michael?” Luca whispered.
Thomas nodded.
“He was killed trying to stop them.”
Luca stared at the old man.
“You knew?”
“I didn't see who killed him. But I knew my phone call brought those men there.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Your father made me promise to keep quiet until he found proof.”
Luca felt anger rise in his chest.
“Michael had two children.”
“I know.”
“His wife spent years believing he fell asleep behind the wheel.”
Thomas wiped his face.
“I know.”
Luca turned away.
He had spent fifteen years blaming Victor for a tragedy caused by someone else.
And Thomas had carried the truth in silence.
Before anyone could speak, Caleb returned.
“Sir, Bellwether's Manhattan location closed eight years ago.”
Luca frowned.
“What happened to the vaults?”
“They were transferred to another facility.”
“Where?”
“That's the strange part. Vault Seventeen wasn't transferred.”
Caleb handed him a printed record.
“The vault was emptied six months before your father died.”
Luca stared at the document.
The withdrawal authorization carried Antonio's signature.
And beneath it was a second signature.
LUCA MORETTI.
Luca's breath caught.
“That isn't possible.”
Vanessa looked up.
“Why?”
He raised his eyes.
“Because six months before my father died, I was recovering from a gunshot wound in a hospital in Boston.”
Caleb examined the signature.
“Someone forged it.”
Luca shook his head.
“No.”
He recognized the handwriting.
The sharp angle of the L.
The distinctive line beneath the final i.
It looked exactly like his signature.
And the withdrawal record listed an identifying witness.
EVELYN STERLING.
Vanessa stared at the paper.
Then she whispered:
“That's impossible.”
Luca turned toward her.
“Why?”
May you like
She looked at him with horror.
“Because my mother had already been dead for eleven years.”
