Chapter 1 - THE SUITCASE THAT SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN FOUND
# THE MAFIA BOSS FOUND HIS PREGNANT MAID DRAGGING A LOCKED BLACK SUITCASE—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SCREAMED, “THAT BELONGS TO A DEAD WOMAN!”
“DON'T OPEN THAT SUITCASE!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE SCREAMED WHEN HE CAUGHT HIS SEVEN-MONTH-PREGNANT MAID DRAGGING A HEAVY BLACK CASE OUT OF A LOCKED BEDROOM. BUT WHEN HE DISCOVERED BABY CLOTHES, HOSPITAL RECORDS, AND A LETTER SIGNED BY HIS DEAD WIFE, HE NOTICED SOMETHING IMPOSSIBLE—THE LETTER WAS DATED EIGHT MONTHS AFTER HER FUNERAL.
The scraping sound came from the upstairs hallway.
Dominic Moretti stopped halfway up the marble staircase.
Scrape.
A pause.
Then another desperate pull.
Scrape.
It was nearly midnight.
The mansion should have been silent.
Dominic followed the sound toward the abandoned east wing.
At the end of the corridor, a young woman was struggling to drag a large black suitcase across the carpet.
“Emily?”
The woman froze.
Emily Carter, his twenty-five-year-old housemaid, was seven months pregnant.
Her face was pale.
One hand supported her swollen belly.
The other gripped the suitcase handle.
“Mr. Moretti…”
Dominic hurried toward her.
“What are you doing carrying something that heavy?”
Emily immediately stepped in front of the case.
“Please, sir. I can explain.”
He noticed the open door behind her.
His late wife's bedroom.
A room that had remained locked for three years.
Dominic's expression changed.
“Where did you get that suitcase?”
Emily's eyes filled with tears.
“Inside Mrs. Moretti's closet.”
Dominic stared.
“Isabella's closet?”
Emily nodded.
Before he could ask another question, hurried footsteps echoed behind them.
“DOMINIC!”
Vanessa Sterling appeared at the end of the hallway.
She was wearing a crimson silk robe.
The moment she saw the suitcase, her face turned white.
“THAT BELONGS TO A DEAD WOMAN!”
Dominic slowly turned.
“What?”
Vanessa rushed toward Emily.
“Put it back! Right now!”
Emily tightened her grip.
“Mrs. Sterling, please—”
“GIVE IT TO ME!”
Vanessa grabbed the handle.
Emily stumbled.
Her hand flew to her belly.
“Please! My baby!”
Dominic caught her before she fell.
“VANESSA! GET AWAY FROM HER!”
Vanessa released the case.
Dominic helped Emily sit on a nearby bench.
“Are you hurt?”
Emily shook her head, trembling.
“No, sir.”
He looked at Vanessa.
“Why are you so desperate to take that suitcase?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Because it belonged to Isabella! That room was supposed to remain untouched!”
Dominic stared at the black case.
“Then why haven't I ever seen it?”
Vanessa didn't answer.
Emily whispered:
“Sir, I wasn't trying to steal anything.”
Dominic knelt beside her.
“Then tell me what happened.”
Emily glanced toward the open bedroom.
“I was cleaning the hallway when I heard something fall behind the door.”
Dominic frowned.
“That room is locked.”
“I know, sir. But the door wasn't completely closed.”
She hesitated.
“When I went inside, I found this suitcase behind a loose panel in the closet.”
Vanessa interrupted.
“SHE'S LYING! SHE BROKE INTO THAT ROOM!”
Emily flinched.
Dominic raised his hand.
“Let her finish.”
Emily's voice trembled.
“The suitcase had your name written on a tag.”
Dominic looked down.
A faded leather tag hung from the handle.
FOR DOMINIC.
His heart began pounding.
He recognized the handwriting.
Isabella's.
His wife had died three years earlier after a car accident.
He had identified her belongings.
Attended her funeral.
Buried her beside his father.
And spent the next three years trying to forget the life they had planned together.
Dominic reached for the suitcase.
Vanessa grabbed his arm.
“Please. Don't.”
He looked at her.
“Why?”
Her lips trembled.
“Because some things are better left buried.”
Dominic slowly removed her hand.
“MY WIFE IS BURIED, VANESSA. HER BELONGINGS ARE NOT.”
He examined the lock.
Emily reached into her apron.
“I found this key taped underneath the closet shelf.”
She handed him a small brass key.
Dominic inserted it into the lock.
Click.
Vanessa stepped backward.
“No…”
He lifted the lid.
Inside were neatly folded baby clothes.
Tiny white socks.
A pale-blue blanket.
A newborn's knitted hat.
Dominic froze.
Isabella had desperately wanted a child.
But before her death, doctors had told them she would struggle to conceive.
He lifted the little blanket.
“Why would she have these?”
Beneath the clothes lay a thick hospital envelope.
Dominic opened it.
ST. CATHERINE'S MATERNITY HOSPITAL.
His hands began trembling.
The documents listed Isabella Moretti as the patient.
And beneath her name was a diagnosis.
PREGNANCY CONFIRMED.
Dominic stopped breathing.
“No…”
Emily covered her mouth.
Vanessa began crying.
“Dominic, please. Let me explain.”
He turned another page.
An ultrasound report.
A maternity admission form.
And a newborn discharge checklist.
Dominic looked up sharply.
“ISABELLA WAS PREGNANT?”
Vanessa said nothing.
He stared at the paperwork.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
Emily whispered:
“Sir… there's a letter.”
She pointed beneath the hospital documents.
Dominic pulled out a cream-colored envelope.
Across the front were two words.
My Dominic.
He recognized the handwriting immediately.
His fingers shook as he opened it.
My love,
If you are reading this, then I finally found a way to get this message to you.
I know what they told you.
I know you believe I died.
Dominic froze.
He read the sentence again.
But there is something you need to know about our baby.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
“Our baby?”
Vanessa suddenly lunged toward the letter.
“STOP READING!”
Dominic stood.
His expression turned ice-cold.
“Don't touch it.”
Vanessa began sobbing.
“You don't understand what happened!”
“Then explain why my dead wife is writing about our child!”
He looked back at the letter.
I wanted to tell you everything.
But someone made sure you never received my messages.
Please don't trust the person who told you there was nothing left of me.
Dominic swallowed hard.
Then his eyes fell on the date.
He went completely still.
NOVEMBER 18.
Eight months after Isabella's funeral.
Dominic stared.
“That isn't possible.”
Emily slowly stood.
“What is it, sir?”
He showed her the date.
“My wife was buried in March.”
Emily's face went pale.
Vanessa backed toward the staircase.
Dominic looked at her.
“HOW COULD ISABELLA WRITE THIS EIGHT MONTHS AFTER SHE DIED?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“Someone forged it.”
Dominic turned the letter over.
At the bottom was Isabella's signature.
And beside it, a tiny drawing of a heart.
The same heart she had drawn on every birthday card, anniversary note, and love letter she'd ever given him.
Dominic's eyes filled with tears.
“No one knew about that.”
Vanessa whispered:
“Dominic…”
He looked at the hospital records again.
One page had been folded underneath the others.
He opened it.
INFANT DISCHARGE RECORD.
A baby had been born.
The mother's name was Isabella Moretti.
The father's name was Dominic Moretti.
But the space for the person who collected the newborn contained another signature.
Dominic stared at it.
His breathing stopped.
VANESSA STERLING.
He slowly raised his eyes.
Vanessa was trembling uncontrollably.
“You picked up my child?”
She shook her head.
“Dominic, please…”
“WHERE IS MY BABY?”
Vanessa burst into tears.
Emily suddenly spoke.
“Sir, there's something else.”
Dominic turned.
The maid reached into the suitcase and lifted the pale-blue blanket.
Sewn into its corner was a small hospital identification bracelet.
Dominic carefully unfolded it.
A date of birth.
A patient number.
And a name.
BABY MORETTI — MALE.
Dominic gripped the bracelet.
“A son…”
His voice broke.
“I have a son?”
Vanessa sank against the wall.
Dominic stepped toward her.
“YOU KNEW I HAD A CHILD. YOU LET ME BELIEVE MY WIFE AND BABY WERE BOTH DEAD?”
Vanessa shook her head desperately.
“I didn't know what else to do!”
Dominic froze.
“What did you just say?”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Emily stared at her.
Then Dominic noticed a final envelope hidden beneath the suitcase lining.
It bore a hospital stamp from just three weeks earlier.
Inside was a single photograph.
A little boy standing beside a hospital window.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A familiar dimple in his left cheek.
Dominic recognized that dimple.
He had the same one.
On the back, someone had written:
HE'S WAITING FOR HIS FATHER.
Dominic looked at Vanessa.
His voice was barely a whisper.
“WHERE IS MY SON?”
Vanessa began shaking.
Then she said something that made Emily gasp.
“DOMINIC… YOUR WIFE DIDN'T LEAVE THAT SUITCASE IN THE ROOM THREE YEARS AGO.”
Dominic froze.
“What?”
Vanessa looked toward the open bedroom.
“SOMEONE PUT IT THERE LAST NIGHT.”
A cold silence filled the hallway.
Dominic slowly turned toward Isabella's dark bedroom.
The room he'd believed nobody had entered since her death.
And from somewhere inside came a faint sound.
Click.
The sound of a door being locked.
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Read Chapter 2 in the first comment to discover who secretly entered Isabella's bedroom—and whether Dominic's missing wife and the little boy in the photograph are still alive. Thank you for reading!
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