Chapter 7 - The Man Who Had Been Erased
I spent the next morning studying every document Daniel had given me.
Victoria Holdings had been established decades earlier, then reorganized shortly before my marriage. Its ownership structure included several properties, an investment portfolio, and a charitable foundation.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Nicholas Moretti.
Alexander's older brother.
Unlike Alexander, Nicholas had no public photographs after the age of seventeen.
His name had disappeared from company records.
His school history ended abruptly.
Even the family's old newspaper announcements contained no obituary.
There was only one mention of his death: a short statement released by the Moretti family after the fire.
No funeral details.
No photographs.
No grave.
I called Daniel.
"Do you know where Nicholas is?"
He was quiet.
"Not personally."
"Do you know someone who does?"
"There was a nurse. Margaret Ellis. She worked at the private facility where the family sent him after the fire."
"Can you find her?"
"I can try."
By evening, Daniel had an address.
Margaret lived in a small house outside Evanston.
She opened the door only after I showed her the photograph of Victoria.
Her expression changed.
"Where did you get that?"
"From the Moretti estate."
She looked over my shoulder.
"Are you alone?"
"Yes."
She stepped aside.
Inside, the house smelled of old books and lavender.
Margaret studied the photograph for a long time.
"Victoria was a good woman," she finally said. "Too good for that family."
"Did you know Nicholas?"
"I cared for him for eleven years."
"Is he alive?"
Her eyes filled.
"Yes."
I gripped the edge of the chair.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know where he is now. He left the facility three years ago."
"Why?"
"Because someone was trying to find him."
"Who?"
Margaret looked at me.
"His father."
She explained that Nicholas had survived the fire but suffered severe injuries. For years, he had been moved between private facilities under false names.
Victoria had arranged for his care before her death.
But she had also left instructions.
If Nicholas ever regained his independence, he was to receive the original ownership records of Victoria Holdings.
"Why did she trust me with the ring?" I asked.
Margaret shook her head.
"I don't know that she did. But I know Nicholas asked about you."
"Why me?"
"Because he had seen your business plan."
I stared at her.
"My business plan?"
"He said you reminded him of his mother. You wanted to build something independent. Something that didn't belong to the family."
Margaret went to a cabinet and removed a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a young man with dark hair and gray eyes.
The resemblance to Alexander was unmistakable.
On the back was a handwritten address.
And one sentence.
When the woman with the blue ring comes, give her the truth.
I barely had time to read it.
A car door slammed outside.
Margaret looked toward the window.
Her face drained of color.
"They found me."
I stood.
"Who?"
She grabbed my hand.
"Go through the back."
The front door opened.
A man's voice called out.
"Margaret?"
I rushed into the kitchen.
Margaret pushed a small key into my palm.
"There's a safe deposit box at the old bank. Box 614. Nicholas left something there."
"Come with me."
"I can't."
"Margaret—"
"Claire, listen to me. The man you're married to isn't the only Moretti who wants to control the truth."
The kitchen door opened.
A figure appeared.
I turned.
It was Marco.
He looked at Margaret, then at me.
"Claire, we need to leave."
I stepped back.
"How did you find me?"
He didn't answer.
"Did Alexander send you?"
Marco looked at the key in my hand.
Then his expression changed.
"Did she give you the key?"
I closed my fingers around it.
"Why?"
He glanced toward the hallway.
"Because if she did, we're already too late."
A gunshot exploded through the front of the house.
Marco pushed me to the floor.
And from somewhere outside, a man shouted:
May you like
"Find the woman with the ring!"
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