Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN WHO KEPT TWO MOTHERS APART
“Margaret Bellini paid Peter Lawson?”
Luca turned toward Anthony.
“Why?”
Anthony stared at Daniel.
For a moment, I thought he might deny everything.
Instead, he slowly removed his glasses.
“Margaret was trying to find Gabriel.”
Daniel's expression hardened.
“Then why hire the man who helped separate me from my mother?”
“Because Peter knew where Matteo had sent you.”
Daniel shook his head.
“My mother said Peter frightened Isabella.”
Anthony nodded.
“He frightened Margaret too.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Then why continue paying him?”
Anthony looked down.
“Because he threatened to tell Sofia that Margaret knew her son was alive.”
The room became quiet.
Vanessa looked toward her father.
“Mom knew?”
Anthony nodded.
“For years.”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
“But you told me she only discovered the truth shortly before she died.”
“I wanted to protect her memory.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“You made me believe she was the only person trying to help.”
Anthony's eyes filled.
“She was trying to help, sweetheart.”
“By keeping a mother away from her child?”
He had no answer.
Daniel looked toward the hospital bracelet.
“My biological mother spent forty years believing I had been taken away.”
Anthony whispered, “I know.”
“And my adoptive parents were told what?”
“That your birth mother couldn't care for you.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
For the first time since I'd known him, I saw tears on his face.
“My mother Eleanor always told me my birth mother must have loved me enough to want me safe.”
He looked toward Luca.
“She never let me speak badly about a woman she'd never met.”
Luca put a hand on his shoulder.
Daniel didn't pull away.
Then Vanessa spoke.
“There's something I haven't told you.”
Luca turned.
“Another secret?”
She nodded.
“I met Sofia three times.”
“When?”
“Over the past month.”
“Where?”
“At a small hotel near Lake Michigan.”
Luca stared at her.
“You knew where she was staying?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
Vanessa looked toward the floor.
“Because I made her a promise.”
Daniel's expression hardened.
“What promise?”
“That I wouldn't reveal Gabriel's identity until she had enough evidence to prove what happened to Isabella.”
Daniel stared.
“You used my identity as leverage?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I thought I was protecting her.”
Luca interrupted.
“You don't protect someone by deciding what truth they're allowed to know.”
Vanessa looked at him.
He continued.
“My mother made that mistake. Your mother made that mistake. My father built an entire life around that mistake.”
His voice lowered.
“And now you're asking us to excuse you for repeating it.”
Vanessa began crying quietly.
Nobody comforted her.
Then Mrs. Wilson stepped forward.
“Sir, there's something we should examine.”
Luca turned.
“What?”
“The pearl buttons on your mother's dress.”
I looked up.
Mrs. Wilson walked toward the ivory gown hanging beside the table.
“Isabella told me once that if she ever needed to remember something important, she'd sew it into a place nobody would think to search.”
Luca frowned.
“Her wedding dress?”
Mrs. Wilson nodded.
“She called it her safest hiding place.”
Vanessa stared at the gown.
“I never knew that.”
Mrs. Wilson gently turned one sleeve inside out.
Near the wrist, beneath the old lace, was a narrow line of slightly darker stitching.
She looked toward me.
“Claire, could you bring my sewing basket?”
I hesitated.
Then glanced at Luca.
He nodded.
“Only if you feel able.”
I brought the basket with my uninjured hand.
Mrs. Wilson selected a seam ripper.
Carefully, she opened three tiny stitches.
A folded strip of fabric emerged.
Inside was a thin piece of paper.
Luca took it.
The paper contained numbers.
Dates.
Payment amounts.
And three names.
MATTEO MORETTI.
MARGARET BELLINI.
PETER LAWSON.
Beside each name was a series of handwritten figures.
Richard leaned forward.
“These appear to be payments from an investment account.”
Luca studied them.
“What account?”
Richard pointed toward the bottom.
“Account eighty-six. The one established in 1986.”
Anthony sat down heavily.
“Margaret's trust.”
Vanessa turned sharply.
“What?”
Anthony nodded.
“She inherited money from her grandfather. Matteo managed it.”
Luca examined the numbers.
“Why would my mother keep records of that?”
Richard looked closer.
“Because these payments don't match ordinary investment distributions.”
“What do they match?”
Richard hesitated.
“Monthly transfers to the same medical consulting company.”
Daniel frowned.
“Medical consulting?”
Richard nodded.
“Whitcomb Advisory Services.”
Luca went still.
“Dr. Harold Whitcomb.”
The room fell silent.
Luca looked toward Anthony.
“Your wife's money was paying my mother's physician?”
Anthony shook his head.
“I never knew that.”
Vanessa stared at the figures.
“Neither did I.”
Richard continued examining the paper.
“These payments began eleven months before Isabella died.”
Luca's voice became quiet.
“And ended?”
Richard checked the final date.
“Three days after her death.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Daniel pointed toward a handwritten note at the bottom.
“What does that mean?”
Luca read aloud.
“Do not trust the first medical report. Ask for the corrected copy.”
He looked up.
“Corrected copy?”
Mrs. Wilson covered her mouth.
Luca turned.
“You know something.”
She nodded slowly.
“Isabella received an envelope from the hospital two days before she died.”
“What was inside?”
“I never saw.”
“Where did she put it?”
Mrs. Wilson looked toward the gown.
“She said it belonged somewhere nobody could take it from her.”
Luca examined the dress again.
Then he noticed something unusual.
One pearl button near the collar was larger than the others.
He touched it.
The button turned slightly.
And a tiny folded note slipped into his hand.
He opened it.
There were only two sentences.
THE MEDICATION WAS CHANGED WITHOUT MY CONSENT.
IF I DIE, ASK WHO BENEFITS FROM MY SILENCE.
Luca stared at the words.
Then Richard spoke.
“Mr. Moretti, there's a problem.”
Luca looked up.
“What?”
Richard held the estate transfer.
“Your mother's death triggered a substantial insurance payment.”
“To whom?”
Richard swallowed.
“Not to your father.”
Luca frowned.
“Then who?”
May you like
Richard looked toward Anthony.
“The entire twenty-million-dollar policy went to Margaret Bellini.”
