Chapter 8 - THE BRIEFCASE AT THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY
“Vanessa took Dad's briefcase?”
Luca stood so quickly that the chair scraped across the wooden floor.
Teresa nodded.
“She said you wanted it cleaned before the wedding.”
“I never asked her to.”
Michael ran a hand through his hair.
“Carlo must have known what was inside.”
Daniel stared at the frozen image on the television.
“Then the engagement wasn't just about Vanessa and Luca.”
Nobody answered.
Because we were all thinking the same thing.
Had Vanessa entered Luca's life because of her father?
Or had Carlo simply discovered a way to use a relationship that already existed?
Luca reached for his jacket.
“We're going back to the mansion.”
Teresa stood.
“I'm coming.”
He looked at her.
“Mom, you've had enough for one day.”
She straightened her shoulders.
“I'm seventy-eight, Luca. Not helpless.”
He almost smiled.
“No, ma'am.”
When we arrived, the staff were clearing away the last decorations from the engagement dinner.
The white roses had begun to droop.
A silver banner still hung above the doorway.
Congratulations, Luca and Vanessa.
Luca stopped beneath it.
For a moment, I wondered what he felt.
Love didn't vanish simply because somebody betrayed your trust.
And I'd seen the way he'd looked at Vanessa before that evening.
He had truly expected to marry her.
“Where's Vanessa?” he asked the house manager.
“She left early this morning, sir.”
“Did she take anything?”
“Several suitcases.”
Luca nodded.
Then the manager added, “She asked for a package from your father's study.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“The briefcase.”
Luca looked toward the staircase.
“Was it given to her?”
The manager hesitated.
“Yes, sir.”
“By whom?”
“Me.”
The poor man looked terrified.
“She said you had approved it.”
Luca's voice softened.
“You followed what you believed were my instructions. I should have made the arrangements clear.”
The manager visibly relaxed.
I noticed Teresa watching her son.
Perhaps for the first time in days, she was seeing the man she'd raised rather than the busy businessman she'd become afraid to disturb.
Luca turned toward Michael.
“Call Carlo's office. Tell him I want to meet tonight.”
Michael shook his head.
“He won't come.”
“Then tell him the Addison property is no longer for sale.”
“That'll bring him.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“I want to be there.”
Luca studied him.
“You don't have to face Carlo again.”
“Yes,” Daniel replied. “I do.”
Teresa took his hand.
“We'll face him together.”
I thought Luca might object.
Instead, he nodded.
Before anyone could make the call, Vanessa appeared in the front hall.
She wore a cream coat over dark trousers.
Her eyes were red.
She stopped when she saw the family gathered together.
Then she noticed Evelyn standing beside Teresa.
“So it's true,” Vanessa whispered. “You went to Addison.”
Luca stepped forward.
“Where's Dad's briefcase?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“With my father.”
“Why?”
“Because he asked me to bring it.”
“Did you know what was inside?”
“No.”
Luca studied her.
“I want the truth.”
Vanessa's composure finally broke.
“I thought I was helping us.”
Daniel gave a bitter laugh.
“By helping your father take Evelyn's house?”
Vanessa looked at him.
“I didn't know he was threatening you.”
“Did you ask?”
She lowered her eyes.
“No.”
Luca spoke quietly.
“You humiliated my mother. You threatened Hannah's livelihood. You tried to make changes to our home without asking me.”
Vanessa began crying.
“I know.”
“Then help me understand why.”
She looked toward the dining room.
“My father spent my entire life telling me that the Bellinis were always second to the Morettis. Every holiday, every business dinner, every celebration, he reminded me that your family had something ours didn't.”
Luca frowned.
“What?”
“Security.”
The word surprised me.
Vanessa had beautiful clothes, expensive jewelry, and a life most people could only imagine.
But as she spoke, I began to understand something about her.
She had grown up trying to earn approval from a man who kept moving the finish line.
“When you proposed,” she continued, “I thought he'd finally be proud of me.”
Luca looked pained.
“Vanessa.”
“He told me the marriage could repair everything between our families. That if I helped with the house, he'd finally trust me with the business.”
“And you believed him.”
“I wanted to.”
Teresa stepped forward.
“Wanting your father's love doesn't give you permission to take away mine.”
Vanessa began crying harder.
“I know, Teresa.”
The old woman looked at her.
“Do you?”
Vanessa couldn't answer.
Luca held out his hand.
“Give me your father's address.”
“He won't tell you anything.”
“That's my problem.”
Vanessa hesitated.
Then she did something none of us expected.
She reached into her coat and removed a small brass key.
“I took this from his office after I found out what he was planning.”
Michael stared.
“What does it open?”
“A locked drawer in his study.”
“What's inside?” Luca asked.
Vanessa looked toward Daniel.
“Copies of every payment you've made him.”
Daniel's face went pale.
“And something else.”
She took a photograph from her handbag.
It showed Carlo standing beside Raymond Pierce.
The photograph was recent.
On the back was a date from three weeks earlier.
Luca frowned.
“Pierce is supposed to be retired.”
Vanessa nodded.
“He isn't.”
Michael looked at the picture.
“What's he doing?”
“Helping my father prepare the property transfer.”
Luca looked furious.
“Then we need to find out what they've been doing.”
Vanessa took a shaky breath.
“I can help.”
He looked at her.
“Why should I trust you?”
She wiped her cheeks.
“You shouldn't. Not yet.”
For the first time, she sounded completely sincere.
“My father has spent years using the promise of his approval to make me do things I knew were wrong. I can't change that. But I can stop helping him.”
Luca studied her.
Then he nodded once.
“Bring us the original records.”
She looked relieved.
But he added, “It doesn't change what's happened between us.”
Her eyes filled again.
“I understand.”
That evening, Carlo agreed to come to the mansion.
He arrived shortly before eight.
His gray hair was neatly combed, and his dark overcoat looked expensive enough to pay several months of my mother's medical bills.
He walked into the living room with his usual confidence.
Then he saw Evelyn.
His smile disappeared.
“You,” he said.
Evelyn stood.
“Yes, Carlo. Me.”
He turned toward Luca.
“This is an unusual way to discuss business.”
Luca placed the old ledger on the table.
“We're not discussing business.”
Carlo glanced down.
His expression changed.
Luca continued.
“We're discussing the money Daniel paid you. The Addison property. And the records you've been hiding.”
Carlo looked toward Vanessa.
She didn't move.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Carlo laughed softly.
“You think your father's old notebook proves anything?”
“No,” Luca replied. “That's why we're having the original records independently examined.”
Carlo stopped smiling.
Michael stepped forward.
“And the property transfer has been suspended.”
Carlo's jaw tightened.
“You don't have the authority.”
Evelyn spoke.
“I do. And I never agreed to leave.”
Teresa stood beside her.
“Neither did I.”
Carlo looked between the two elderly women.
Then he turned toward Luca.
“Your father understood how the world worked.”
Luca looked at him.
“My father made mistakes. I'm not repeating them.”
Carlo took a slow breath.
“You're risking everything over an old house.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“No. We're protecting the people you thought nobody would defend.”
Carlo's face hardened.
Then he reached into his coat.
He removed a folded sheet of paper and placed it on the table.
“Before you make another mistake, read this.”
Luca unfolded it.
I watched his expression change.
It was a copy of an agreement signed years earlier.
And beneath Anthony Moretti's signature was another name.
Not Michael's.
Not Daniel's.
Teresa stared at the paper.
Then whispered, “Oh, Anthony.”
May you like
Because the second signature belonged to Luca Moretti.
Dated when he was only fourteen years old.
