Chapter 2 - THE CHILD WHO SURVIVED THE FIRE
“Your mother died saving Robert's child.”
Alessandro Moretti gripped the telephone so tightly his injured knuckles turned white.
For twenty years, he had believed his mother died alone inside a burning warehouse.
Now his father was telling him she had gone back into the flames for a child nobody had ever mentioned.
“Dad, what child?”
Arthur's breathing rattled through the receiver.
“Robert's little boy. He was only five.”
Alessandro closed his eyes.
His uncle Robert had never had children.
At least, that was what everyone in the family believed.
“Dad, tell me his name.”
“I can't. Not here.”
A man's voice sounded in the background.
“Mr. Moretti, it's time to put the telephone away.”
Arthur spoke quickly.
“Find the blue coat, Alessandro. Your mother kept everything in—”
The connection ended.
Alessandro stared at his phone.
Then he turned toward Rachel Bennett.
She was still standing near his desk, her injured hand wrapped in fresh bandages.
“Rachel, did my father ever mention a blue coat to you?”
She hesitated.
“Not directly, sir. But three weeks ago, he asked me to bring him a photograph from the upstairs sitting room.”
“What photograph?”
“One of your mother. She was wearing a blue coat and holding a little boy.”
Alessandro's heart began pounding.
“Was the boy me?”
Rachel shook her head.
“No, sir.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Alessandro reached for his jacket.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“To find out why my family has been lying to me for twenty years.”
Vanessa was waiting in the hallway.
Her diamond necklace glittered against her cream-colored evening gown.
“Alessandro, please. We need to talk.”
“We will.”
He walked past her.
She caught his sleeve.
“You can't go to Harbor Point. Robert will think I betrayed him.”
Alessandro stopped.
“Did you?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I thought I was helping your father.”
“By removing him from his rehabilitation center without telling me?”
“He wanted to leave!”
“Then why didn't you bring him home?”
Vanessa looked toward Rachel.
“Could we discuss this without the help?”
Rachel lowered her eyes.
Alessandro didn't.
“Rachel is the only person in this house who's told me the truth tonight.”
Vanessa recoiled.
“You believe a maid over the woman you're going to marry?”
“I believe what I can verify.”
He continued toward the stairs.
“Security will make sure everyone from dinner leaves safely. Robert and Vanessa are to remain here until I return. Nobody deletes a recording, removes a document, or enters my father's rooms.”
Vanessa's expression changed.
“Your father's rooms?”
Alessandro noticed.
But he kept walking.
The drive to Harbor Point took forty minutes.
Rachel sat in the back of the black SUV beside Alessandro's security chief, Marcus Hale.
Alessandro had insisted she accompany them because she might recognize objects or conversations connected to the watch.
Still, Rachel wondered why a billionaire accustomed to commanding hundreds of people would trust someone who polished his silverware.
“Sir,” she said quietly, “you didn't have to bring me.”
Alessandro looked at her through the rearview mirror.
“My father asked for you last month.”
Rachel blinked.
“He did?”
“He said you were kind to him when everyone else treated him like a problem to be managed.”
Rachel remembered Arthur struggling to fasten his cardigan.
She had helped him without rushing.
Later, he had told her that Parkinson's stole many things, but the worst was when people stopped speaking to him like an adult.
“I only did what anyone should have done.”
Alessandro's voice softened.
“Not everyone did.”
At Harbor Point, the remaining warehouse stood behind rusted fencing.
Most of the original building had been demolished after the fire, leaving one brick structure and a concrete loading platform.
Two security vehicles were already parked outside.
Marcus approached the first guard.
“Where's Arthur?”
“In the former maintenance office. He's conscious. We have a nurse with him.”
Alessandro hurried inside.
His father sat in a wheelchair beneath a hanging industrial light.
Arthur looked smaller than Alessandro remembered.
His silver hair was disheveled. His hands trembled uncontrollably.
But when he saw his son, his eyes brightened.
“Alex.”
Alessandro dropped to one knee.
“I'm here, Dad.”
Arthur touched his cheek.
“You look like your mother when you're angry.”
Alessandro swallowed.
“Who brought you here?”
“Robert arranged it. Vanessa signed the release. They told me you agreed.”
“I never agreed.”
“I know that now.”
Arthur looked at Rachel.
“You found it.”
She nodded.
“The watch, Mr. Moretti.”
He held out his shaking hand.
“Good girl.”
Rachel gently placed the watch in his palm.
His expression crumpled.
“Your mother gave me this on our tenth anniversary,” Arthur told Alessandro. “I carried it through every bad year afterward because it reminded me that good years had existed.”
Alessandro sat beside him.
“Dad, what happened to the child?”
Arthur looked toward the boarded windows.
“Your mother carried him out through the east loading entrance.”
“And then?”
“The roof came down before she could follow.”
“Who was he?”
Arthur's voice trembled.
“Robert's son. His name was Daniel.”
Alessandro stared.
“Daniel?”
Arthur nodded.
“Robert had a relationship with a woman named Evelyn Carter. She worked in the bookkeeping office. He refused to acknowledge their son publicly.”
“Did Daniel survive?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he now?”
Arthur looked frightened.
“I don't know. Robert sent him away after the fire.”
Alessandro turned toward Marcus.
“Find Daniel Carter.”
Marcus nodded.
But Rachel was staring at the watch.
Something bothered her.
“Mr. Moretti,” she asked Arthur, “why was there blood on the case?”
Arthur's hand stopped moving.
“It wasn't mine.”
Alessandro leaned forward.
“Whose was it?”
Arthur struggled to speak.
“Someone came to see me yesterday. He knew about the recording. I tried to stop him from taking it.”
“Who?”
Arthur opened his mouth.
Then shook his head.
“First, the coat.”
The blue coat was not in Arthur's room.
Marcus searched the closets while Alessandro examined the family photographs.
Rachel found an empty garment bag behind a cedar chest.
A dry-cleaning label was attached.
E. MORETTI — BLUE WOOL COAT — ARCHIVE STORAGE.
Below the label, someone had handwritten a date.
October 14.
Three days earlier.
Rachel turned the bag over.
Inside was a small photograph.
A woman in a blue coat stood beside a smiling five-year-old boy.
The woman was Elena Moretti.
Alessandro's mother.
On the back, in Elena's handwriting, were six words.
Daniel deserves to know his father.
Alessandro examined the boy's face.
Dark hair.
Straight eyebrows.
A small scar beside his chin.
Then Rachel whispered, “Sir, I think I've seen him.”
“Where?”
“At dinner tonight.”
Alessandro looked up sharply.
Rachel pointed toward the photograph.
“Your uncle brought a guest. A man in his forties. He introduced him as the Harbor Point financial consultant.”
Alessandro remembered.
A quiet man wearing a charcoal suit.
Robert had called him David Collins.
And there had been a pale scar beneath his chin.
Alessandro reached for his phone.
“Marcus, find out whether David Collins is still at the mansion.”
Marcus checked his messages.
His expression tightened.
“He left forty minutes ago.”
“Where did he go?”
“We're checking.”
Rachel turned the photograph beneath the light.
Something was written along the bottom, almost hidden by the frame's adhesive.
She read it aloud.
“Daniel Carter. Age five. September 2006.”
Alessandro stared at the date.
Then he noticed something else.
Elena wasn't merely standing beside Daniel.
She was holding a child's drawing.
A drawing of two houses.
One labeled Mommy.
The other labeled Daddy Robert.
Between them stood a woman in a blue coat.
And beneath her feet, written in a child's uneven handwriting, were four words.
AUNT ELENA KNOWS EVERYTHING.
Arthur began crying.
Alessandro put his arm around him.
“Dad, what did Mom know?”
Arthur looked directly at his son.
“She knew Robert wasn't the person who wanted that warehouse burned.”
Alessandro went still.
“Then who was?”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“Someone inside our family.”
And when he finally opened them, he said something Alessandro would never forget.
“Your mother had discovered that Robert was being blackmailed. She was going to expose the person responsible that very night.”
Back at the mansion, Vanessa sat alone in the dining room.
She had removed her engagement ring.
A folded piece of paper rested beside her untouched champagne.
It was a payment receipt from the rehabilitation center.
But the name beside Responsible Party wasn't hers.
It was Daniel Carter.
May you like
And beneath his name was a second signature.
Rachel Bennett.
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