Chapter 7 - THE CHILD THEY NEEDED FOR A CROWN
“No.”
Serena paced Victor’s office.
“No. Absolutely not.”
Victor remained behind his desk.
“It explains the timing.”
“It explains nothing.”
“Gabriel appears after years of being presumed dead. He approaches Anthony before you work here. He wants custody transferred. He asks questions about your mother.”
“That does not mean he wants Lucia for some mafia dynasty.”
Victor’s expression remained grim.
“Among traditional families, blood matters.”
“She’s seven.”
“I know.”
“She likes unicorn stickers and refuses crusts on sandwiches.”
“I know.”
“She is not inheriting a criminal empire.”
“I agree.”
Serena stopped.
That answer disarmed her.
Victor continued.
“Gabriel may not.”
Enzo entered carrying an old leather folder.
“We confirmed the genealogy.”
Serena hated the word.
As though Lucia were a horse being inspected for breeding.
Enzo placed photographs on the desk.
Serena recognized her mother immediately.
Young.
Beautiful.
Standing beside Carlo Moretti.
Another photograph showed Elena with a girl Serena now recognized from news archives.
Adriana.
Victor’s late wife.
“My mother never talked about them.”
“She ran,” Enzo said.
“From what?”
“Her family.”
Serena looked at Victor.
“Why?”
Enzo handed her a letter.
It had been retrieved from an old Moretti property archive.
The handwriting belonged to Serena’s mother.
Carlo,
I will not raise my daughter in this life.
You can call me a coward.
You can erase my name.
I would rather Serena grow up poor and free than rich and buried.
Do not come looking.
Serena read the final sentence twice.
Her vision blurred.
All those years her mother had worked two jobs.
All those secondhand shoes.
All those times Serena had secretly wondered why they seemed to have no extended family.
Now she knew.
Her mother had chosen obscurity intentionally.
To protect her.
Serena sat.
“She knew.”
Victor nodded.
“She knew what?”
Lucia stood in the doorway.
Everyone froze.
Serena turned.
“Baby, why aren’t you with the boys?”
“They’re building a volcano.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Marco said we need vinegar.”
“Definitely dangerous.”
Lucia looked at the photographs.
“Is that Grandma?”
Serena gathered the pages.
“Yes.”
“Who’s the other lady?”
Victor answered softly.
“My wife.”
Lucia looked between them.
“Were they friends?”
“Family,” Serena said.
Lucia smiled.
“So we’re family?”
The adults went silent.
From a child’s perspective, genealogy was simple.
To Serena, the word landed strangely.
Victor stared at Lucia.
Family.
Before anyone could respond, Marco screamed from downstairs.
“IT EXPLODED!”
Lucia ran.
Serena stood quickly.
Victor caught her wrist.
She looked down.
He released her immediately.
“Serena.”
“What?”
“Until Gabriel is found, you and Lucia cannot leave the estate.”
“That’s not your decision.”
“If he believes Lucia represents a claim to Moretti assets—”
“What assets?”
Enzo answered.
“That may be the bigger problem.”
He opened another document.
“Carlo Moretti established a private trust before his death. Most people assumed it dissolved.”
“How much?”
“Current estimated value?”
Enzo looked almost apologetic.
“Eight hundred million.”
Serena laughed.
Nobody else did.
“Oh.”
She stopped.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want it.”
“That may not matter.”
“Give it to charity.”
“It’s structured through bloodline succession.”
Victor explained.
Adriana had been one beneficiary.
Gabriel another.
If both died without recognized descendants, the trust passed through Carlo’s sister Elena.
Which meant Serena.
And eventually Lucia.
“But I’m alive.”
Victor’s eyes darkened.
“Yes.”
Serena understood.
“If Gabriel wants control…”
“He needs you removed or compliant.”
Her skin went cold.
“And Lucia?”
“A minor heir can be controlled by a guardian.”
Anthony.
Emergency custody.
Suddenly every piece fitted together.
Serena felt physically sick.
Gabriel had paid Anthony to win custody.
Then Serena could disappear.
Lucia’s legal guardian would control her interests.
“He was going to kill me.”
Victor did not lie.
“Possibly.”
Lucia’s laughter echoed from downstairs.
Serena closed her eyes.
Victor stepped closer.
“He will not touch you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can promise I will make it extremely difficult.”
Despite everything, she almost laughed.
“That is the most mafia reassurance I’ve ever heard.”
His mouth moved faintly.
For a moment, something warm existed between them.
Then Enzo’s phone rang.
His expression changed immediately.
“What?”
He listened.
“When?”
Victor straightened.
Enzo disconnected.
“Anthony disappeared from the hospital.”
Serena stared.
“He was shot.”
“Someone dressed as an orderly removed him during transfer.”
“Gabriel?”
“Probably.”
Victor began issuing orders.
Serena interrupted.
“Why take Anthony?”
“Loose end.”
Her stomach twisted.
Victor stopped.
“Or bait.”
The realization hit both simultaneously.
Serena’s phone rang.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
Victor held out his hand.
She shook her head.
“It’s mine.”
“Speaker.”
Serena answered.
“Hello?”
Anthony’s voice came through weak and frightened.
“Serena.”
“Anthony?”
“Don’t hang up.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
She heard breathing behind him.
Someone else.
“Anthony, what’s happening?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Where are you?”
“I need you to come.”
Victor shook his head.
Serena kept speaking.
“Where?”
“Pier Forty-Seven.”
Victor silently motioned for Enzo.
“Come alone.”
Then another voice took the phone.
Male.
Calm.
“Hello, cousin.”
Serena stopped breathing.
Gabriel Moretti.
“You broke into my house.”
“Technically someone else did.”
“You threatened my daughter.”
“I protected her inheritance.”
“She’s seven!”
“Exactly why she requires adults capable of protecting what belongs to her.”
Victor leaned toward the phone.
Gabriel laughed.
“Victor. Always listening where you weren’t invited.”
“Touch Anthony again and—”
“You’ll do what? Fail another Moretti woman?”
Victor went still.
Gabriel continued.
“Ask him, Serena. Ask Victor why Adriana drove alone the night she died.”
Serena looked at Victor.
“What does he mean?”
Victor said nothing.
Gabriel’s voice softened.
“Your new employer has secrets.”
“Everyone does.”
“His killed my sister.”
Victor’s face became stone.
Gabriel continued.
“Pier Forty-Seven. Midnight. Bring the medal Tommy has.”
“Why?”
“Because inside it is the proof Adriana died trying to deliver.”
Serena looked toward Victor.
The medal.
A tiny silver object.
She remembered him turning it in his fingers.
“What proof?”
Gabriel whispered four words.
“Victor ordered the bombing.”
Then the call ended.
Serena slowly lowered the phone.
Victor looked at her.
“Gabriel is lying.”
“Then show me.”
“What?”
“The medal.”
Victor’s hand moved toward his pocket.
He stopped.
Serena saw the hesitation.
And suddenly she knew.
“You opened it.”
His silence was confirmation.
“You found something inside.”
Victor looked toward Enzo.
“Leave us.”
The door closed.
Serena’s voice shook.
“What did you find?”
Victor removed the medal.
Pressed along the edge.
It opened.
Inside was a tiny memory card.
Serena stared.
“How long have you known?”
“Since last night.”
Rage hit her.
“You lied to me.”
“I was protecting—”
“Don’t.”
She backed away.
“Don’t use that word.”
Victor’s face tightened.
“I needed to verify what was on it.”
“And?”
He looked at the card.
“There is a recording.”
“Of what?”
His answer came slowly.
“Me ordering a car destroyed.”
Serena’s blood went cold.
“The car Adriana was driving?”
May you like
Victor said nothing.
And that silence sounded exactly like guilt.
