Chapter 4 - THE LETTER MY FATHER LEFT
The accountant lived above a bookstore on the north side.
His name was Harold Bennett.
He was seventy-two, thin, quiet, and visibly annoyed that Vincent Moretti had brought trouble to his doorstep.
“I told your father I wanted nothing to do with this family after his funeral.”
Vincent stood in the hallway.
“My father is dead.”
“So are my chances of having a peaceful retirement.”
Daniel almost smiled.
I didn't.
Harold opened the door wider.
“Come in.”
Emma was asleep in my arms.
He looked at her.
Then his expression changed.
“So that's her.”
Vincent nodded.
Harold stepped aside.
The apartment smelled like old paper and coffee.
Books covered every wall.
Harold sat at a small desk.
“Your father told me never to discuss the trust unless there was a direct threat to the child.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“There is.”
Harold looked at me.
“Then you should have come sooner.”
I felt my pulse quicken.
“You knew about me?”
“I knew about the mother.”
He opened a locked drawer.
Inside was a sealed envelope.
My name was written on it.
Claire Moretti.
I stared.
“This is the letter.”
Harold nodded.
“Your husband was supposed to give it to you.”
I looked at Vincent.
He didn't move.
“You had it?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Six years.”
My chest tightened.
“You kept it from me?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“My father.”
Harold sighed.
“Open it.”
My hands shook as I broke the seal.
The letter was short.
Claire,
If you are reading this, Vincent has failed to protect you from the family I built.
I am sorry.
The Moretti name has survived because people feared it. But fear creates enemies, and enemies create opportunists.
There is one person I never trusted.
Richard Vale.
He has served me loyally in public while building his own network in private.
I believe he intends to take control of the family by controlling the next generation.
That generation is your daughter.
Do not let anyone separate her from you.
There is one final instruction.
The trust is not merely money.
It contains evidence.
Evidence capable of destroying every person who believes the Moretti family is untouchable.
Protect the child.
Trust no one.
Not even my son.
I lowered the letter.
Vincent looked like someone had punched him.
“You knew he didn't trust you.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he didn't trust Richard.”
“Yes.”
“And you still did nothing?”
“I thought I could handle Richard.”
Harold leaned forward.
“That's exactly what your father feared.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Where is the evidence?”
Harold shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Daniel stepped in.
“Then why does the trust exist?”
“Because the evidence is stored separately.”
“Where?”
Harold looked at Emma.
“The child carries the access.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“The bracelet.”
I felt cold.
Harold continued.
“The bracelet isn't simply a key. It's an authentication device.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“What does it authenticate?”
“A private archive.”
“Where?”
Harold hesitated.
“Your father's original estate.”
Vincent went still.
“The lake house?”
“No.”
Harold looked toward the window.
“The old family church.”
I remembered the church.
It had been closed for years.
My wedding had taken place there.
I looked at Vincent.
“You never told me.”
“I didn't know.”
Harold shook his head.
“Your father didn't tell you because he didn't trust you.”
Vincent's face hardened.
“What exactly is in the archive?”
“Names.”
“Whose?”
“Everyone who paid your father.”
“Paid him for what?”
Harold looked at me.
“For crimes.”
The room fell silent.
“Judges. Police officers. politicians. businessmen. Contractors.”
Daniel whispered, “Blackmail.”
Harold nodded.
“Your father didn't build his empire only through violence. He built it through information.”
Vincent took a slow breath.
“Richard wants the archive.”
“Yes.”
“And Sophia?”
Harold's expression changed.
“She was recruited.”
“By Richard?”
“I believe so.”
“Why would she help him?”
“Because Richard promised her something.”
“What?”
Harold looked at me.
“A life with Vincent.”
I felt something twist in my chest.
It was almost laughable.
After everything.
But Harold continued.
“She believed Claire was the obstacle.”
Vincent's face became unreadable.
“She was wrong.”
“Not entirely.”
He turned to him.
“Your weakness was never Claire.”
Vincent looked at me.
“It was your inability to choose.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Harold closed the drawer.
“You need to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because I made one mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“I told someone you were coming here.”
My heart dropped.
Daniel stood.
“Who?”
Harold looked toward the window.
“Richard.”
The lights in the bookstore below suddenly went out.
Then the building shook.
A car had slammed into the storefront.
Emma woke screaming.
I held her.
Vincent pulled his weapon.
Daniel moved toward the stairs.
Harold opened a hidden door behind a bookshelf.
“Back exit.”
We ran.
Glass shattered downstairs.
Men shouted.
Harold followed us.
At the alley, Vincent turned.
“Come with us.”
Harold shook his head.
“I'm too old to run.”
“You'll die.”
“I've been expecting that for years.”
Vincent grabbed his arm.
“I'm not leaving you.”
Harold stared at him.
“Then stop trying to be your father.”
Vincent froze.
“What?”
“Your father believed fear made him powerful.”
Harold looked at me.
“He was wrong.”
Then he pushed Vincent away.
“Go.”
We ran.
Behind us, another explosion shook the street.
Emma cried into my shoulder.
I kept moving.
Vincent led us into a waiting vehicle.
Once we were inside, I looked back.
Smoke rose above the bookstore.
Harold was gone.
I didn't know whether he was alive.
I didn't know whether the archive existed.
I didn't know whether Sophia had been manipulated or had chosen this.
But I knew one thing.
My father-in-law had left me a warning.
And the man he warned me about was coming for my daughter.
The vehicle sped through the city.
Vincent looked at me.
“We need to get to the church.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Claire.”
“You said the bracelet is the key.”
“Yes.”
“And Sophia has it.”
“Yes.”
“Then the church is exactly where she expects us to go.”
Daniel nodded.
“She'll set a trap.”
Vincent stared out the window.
Then he smiled without humor.
“Good.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“For once, she’ll think she's controlling the game.”
He turned toward me.
“We can use that.”
I shook my head.
“You're talking like the old Vincent.”
“No.”
He looked at Emma.
“I’m trying to become someone my daughter can trust.”
I wanted to believe him.
But then my phone vibrated.
A message.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
COME TO THE CHURCH ALONE.
Another message arrived.
WE HAVE SOPHIA.
I stared at the screen.
Vincent saw it.
His expression changed.
“Who is it?”
I handed him the phone.
His jaw tightened.
Then a third message appeared.
DON'T TELL VINCENT.
And beneath it was a photograph.
Sophia was tied to a chair.
Blood covered her forehead.
Her eyes were wide with terror.
But that wasn't what made me afraid.
Behind her, barely visible on the wall, was a familiar symbol.
The Moretti family crest.
Vincent stared at it.
Then whispered,
“That church isn't abandoned.”
He looked at me.
“It has been used for meetings.”
“By whom?”
“My father.”
“And Richard?”
Vincent nodded.
“Maybe.”
Daniel frowned.
“Then why would they take Sophia there?”
Vincent didn't answer immediately.
He zoomed in on the photograph.
A small detail caught his eye.
A brass candleholder.
He stared at it.
“That isn't from the church.”
“What is it?”
“My father's study.”
My stomach tightened.
“So the photograph wasn't taken at the church.”
“No.”
Vincent handed the phone back.
“They want us to think Sophia is there.”
“Then where is she?”
He looked toward the dark streets outside.
“There is only one place Richard would take her.”
“Where?”
“My father's original estate.”
I frowned.
“You said the trust archive was at the church.”
“It is.”
“Then why the estate?”
“Because Richard doesn't need the archive yet.”
Vincent's voice became cold.
“He needs the key.”
“The bracelet.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Emma.
She was half asleep, her small fingers wrapped around her rabbit.
Vincent's eyes softened.
“Richard believes Sophia has the bracelet.”
I understood.
“He thinks she's still working for him.”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe that's our advantage.”
Vincent looked at me.
“You're thinking what I'm thinking.”
“That Sophia may not be his ally anymore.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel checked his weapon.
“Assuming she's alive.”
Nobody spoke.
The vehicle turned onto a dark road.
Far ahead, an old iron gate appeared.
Vincent stared through the windshield.
“My father's estate.”
I held Emma closer.
The gate opened by itself.
And as we drove through, I realized we weren't arriving at the trap.
We were arriving at the place where Vincent's family had buried its secrets for generations.
At the top of the hill, the house stood dark against the storm.
One upstairs window was lit.
Vincent stared at it.
“That room belonged to my father.”
I whispered, “Then someone is waiting for us.”
May you like
He nodded.
“And they know we’re coming.”
