Chapter 4 - The Daughter Nobody Mentioned
Luca stared at the photograph.
The little girl appeared to be around six years old. She had dark hair, a small dimple in her left cheek, and Antonio's unmistakable gray eyes.
His mother held her close.
Antonio stood behind them, one hand resting on the child's shoulder.
“Who is she?” Luca asked.
Antonio had followed him upstairs.
For the first time that evening, the older man looked genuinely afraid.
“Her name was Isabella.”
“Was?”
Antonio lowered his head.
“She disappeared when she was seven.”
Luca looked at the photograph again.
“You had a daughter?”
“My daughter,” Antonio said. “Your sister.”
“And you never told me?”
“Your mother wanted to protect you.”
“From what?”
Antonio remained silent.
Luca turned toward him.
“You don't get to disappear for three years, return at my wedding, and decide which parts of my family history I deserve to know.”
Antonio accepted the anger.
“I know.”
“Then start talking.”
Before Antonio could answer, Robert entered the room.
He carried an old leather folder.
“I think this belongs to you.”
Inside were several letters written in Elena's handwriting.
Luca recognized the delicate curves immediately.
His mother had written him birthday cards until the year she died.
He opened the first letter.
My darling Luca,
If you are reading this, someone has finally discovered the truth about Isabella.
His hands began to shake.
The letter explained that Elena had secretly given birth to a daughter after years of believing she could never have another child. Isabella had been born with a serious heart condition, and the family had kept her existence private to protect her from people who might use her as leverage.
But one night, Isabella disappeared from her bedroom.
The family was told she had died during a medical emergency.
No funeral was held.
No grave was ever shown.
Luca looked up.
“Where is she?”
Antonio swallowed.
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“I searched for her.”
“For how long?”
“Until the night of the explosion.”
Luca threw the letter onto the vanity.
“You expect me to believe my sister vanished, and you simply gave up?”
Antonio's eyes filled with regret.
“I never stopped searching.”
Robert interrupted.
“Elena believed Vincent had taken Isabella. She left evidence in this room, but someone removed the most important document yesterday.”
Luca turned.
“What document?”
“The original hospital transfer record. It identified the person who signed for Isabella.”
Vanessa appeared in the doorway.
Her wedding dress was stained with dust from the ballroom.
“I know who signed it.”
Every head turned.
Luca stepped toward her.
“Talk.”
Vanessa looked at Antonio.
“Your mother gave Isabella to a woman named Margaret Cole.”
Antonio shook his head.
“That isn't possible.”
“It happened,” Vanessa insisted. “Margaret was a nurse at the private clinic where Isabella was treated.”
Robert frowned.
“Margaret Cole died eight years ago.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No. She changed her name.”
“Why would you know that?” Luca demanded.
Vanessa took a breath.
“Because I met her.”
“When?”
“Six months before I met you.”
Luca stared at her.
“Why?”
“She came to my family's house. She wanted money.”
“For what?”
“To keep quiet about Isabella.”
Antonio moved closer.
“What did she tell you?”
Vanessa looked down.
“She said the girl was alive.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Luca felt the floor shift beneath him.
“Where is she now?”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“I don't know. But I have something she gave me.”
She reached into the hidden pocket of her wedding gown and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a hospital photograph of a teenage girl.
On the back was a handwritten name.
Isabella Cole.
And beneath it, a date.
A date from just six months earlier.
Luca looked at Vanessa.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Vincent threatened to kill her if I did.”
Antonio grabbed the photograph.
His fingers trembled.
“That's my daughter.”
Then Robert noticed something in the corner of the picture.
A reflection in the hospital window.
A man standing behind the camera.
Robert's face turned white.
“Luca…”
“What?”
May you like
Robert pointed to the reflection.
“That man is Vincent.”
