Chapter 2 - THE MARK ON LUCY’S SHOULDER
For several seconds, Gabriel Moretti forgot how to speak.
The ballroom music continued faintly somewhere below them, distorted through the mansion walls, but inside the east corridor, everything had gone still.
Claire stared at the phone in Gabriel’s hand.
“What did she say?”
Gabriel did not answer immediately.
Arthur stood between two bodyguards, his face gray.
That told Gabriel almost as much as Teresa’s warning had.
He raised the phone again.
“Mom?”
The line was dead.
Gabriel called back.
Nothing.
He looked at Marco.
“Trace it.”
Marco was already moving.
Claire took a cautious step toward Gabriel.
“Mr. Moretti?”
His gaze settled on her.
Claire had seen him angry before.
Not shouting.
Not threatening.
Gabriel’s anger became quieter.
Sharper.
Tonight, however, there was something underneath it.
Fear.
“Where is Lucy?”
Claire’s entire body tightened.
“My sister’s apartment.”
“Address.”
“I already gave it to your men.”
“Good.”
He turned toward another guard.
“Double the detail.”
Claire frowned.
“Why?”
Gabriel looked at her.
“My mother asked me why your daughter has the Moretti birthmark.”
Claire stopped breathing.
Arthur made a sound behind them.
Almost a gasp.
Gabriel turned immediately.
“You know what she means.”
Arthur looked away.
Gabriel walked toward him.
The two men shared the same dark eyes, though Arthur’s now carried seventy-nine years of secrets.
“What birthmark?” Claire demanded.
Arthur said nothing.
Claire looked from him to Gabriel.
“What is he talking about?”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“A mark shaped like a crescent.”
Claire’s face changed.
It was small.
Only for a second.
But Gabriel saw it.
“Lucy has one,” he said.
Claire backed away.
“How could you know that?”
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I know my family.”
“What does that mean?”
Gabriel glanced at Arthur.
“My grandmother had it. My father had it.”
He paused.
“So do I.”
Claire stared at him.
Gabriel unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled the fabric slightly aside.
Near his left collarbone was a pale crescent-shaped mark.
Claire went completely still.
Lucy’s mark was in almost exactly the same place.
Claire had kissed it hundreds of times when Lucy was a baby.
Her mother used to call it an angel’s thumbprint.
Now Arthur whispered, “Gabriel.”
Gabriel slowly turned.
“You’re going to explain.”
“This isn't the place.”
“It became the place when my dead mother called me.”
Arthur lowered his voice.
“Not in front of her.”
Claire’s fear transformed into anger.
“In front of me?”
Arthur immediately regretted the words.
Claire stepped forward.
“My daughter is seven years old. Vanessa threatened her tonight. Your family apparently knows things about her that I don’t, and now you’re suggesting I’m the problem?”
Arthur looked exhausted.
“You were never supposed to come here.”
Claire froze.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Arthur closed his eyes.
Claire whispered, “You knew who I was.”
Arthur said nothing.
Gabriel grabbed his uncle’s jacket.
It was the first openly aggressive movement Claire had ever seen from him.
“Did you hire her?”
“No.”
“Did Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Arthur looked at Claire.
“Teresa.”
Gabriel released him.
Claire shook her head.
“I never met Teresa before three nights ago.”
“Yes,” Arthur said. “You did.”
Claire’s confusion deepened.
“When?”
“Twenty-eight years ago.”
Claire almost laughed.
“I was three.”
“I know.”
Arthur looked toward Gabriel.
“Your mother knew her mother.”
Claire’s voice became very quiet.
“My mother was named Elaine Donovan.”
Arthur nodded.
“And before that?”
Claire stared.
“My mother never changed her name.”
Arthur gave her a sad look.
“She changed everything.”
Gabriel turned toward Marco.
“Lock the estate.”
Arthur reacted instantly.
“No.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“No one leaves.”
“You can’t trap seventy guests here.”
“I can.”
“Gabriel—”
“My mother is alive. Vanessa knew about a ring she should never have seen. Someone sedated a seventy-four-year-old woman inside my house. Now you’re telling me Claire was connected to Teresa before she could read.”
His eyes hardened.
“No one leaves.”
Downstairs, applause suddenly erupted.
Gabriel glanced toward the ceiling.
Vanessa.
Still performing.
Still smiling in front of their guests.
He turned toward Claire.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“To get your daughter.”
Arthur stepped forward.
“That could be exactly what they want.”
Gabriel stopped.
“They?”
Arthur looked defeated.
Eleven years of lies were beginning to collapse faster than he could contain them.
“Your father wasn’t the first person they killed.”
Gabriel stared at him.
Arthur continued.
“And if Teresa called tonight, it means she thinks they're going after Lucy next.”
Claire rushed forward.
“Who?”
Arthur’s mouth opened.
A loud crash came from downstairs.
Then screaming.
Gabriel’s hand moved automatically toward the gun beneath his jacket.
Marco touched his earpiece.
His expression changed.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“Vanessa’s gone.”
Gabriel turned.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“Kitchen exit. Camera shows her leaving thirty seconds after the recording ended.”
“With whom?”
Marco listened.
“Unknown driver.”
Claire felt suddenly cold.
“My daughter.”
Gabriel was already walking.
They moved down the staircase, past frightened guests being contained by security.
The ballroom looked abandoned despite seventy people standing inside it.
Champagne glasses remained untouched.
Vanessa’s microphone lay on the floor.
Gabriel’s phone rang again.
Claire flinched.
Unknown number.
He answered on speaker.
This time Vanessa spoke.
“Gabriel.”
His face became unreadable.
“Where are you?”
“That’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
“You always were too controlling.”
Gabriel scanned the ballroom while Marco quietly worked beside him.
Vanessa laughed softly.
“I suppose congratulations are no longer appropriate.”
“Where’s my mother?”
There was silence.
Then Vanessa said, “Which one?”
Claire frowned.
Gabriel did too.
“What does that mean?”
“You should ask Arthur.”
Arthur had just entered the ballroom.
At Vanessa’s words, he stopped.
Gabriel noticed.
Vanessa continued.
“For eleven years, you believed one story because it was easier than looking underneath it.”
“Tell me where Teresa is.”
“No.”
“Then tell me why Claire’s daughter matters.”
Vanessa’s breathing changed.
So slightly most people would have missed it.
Gabriel didn’t.
Claire didn’t either.
“You’re afraid of Lucy,” Claire said.
Vanessa went silent.
Claire stepped closer to the phone.
“You threatened her because you're afraid of a seven-year-old girl.”
Vanessa laughed again.
But this time the sound was forced.
“I’m not afraid of your daughter.”
“Then why mention her school?”
“Because I needed you obedient.”
“Why?”
“So you wouldn't find Teresa.”
Claire’s hands clenched.
“You locked her in that room?”
“I didn't put her there.”
“Who did?”
Vanessa ignored the question.
Instead, she spoke directly to Gabriel.
“You should examine your mother’s old financial files.”
“Why?”
“Because your father had two families.”
Gabriel said nothing.
Arthur whispered, “Don’t.”
Vanessa heard him.
“Oh, Arthur’s there.”
Her voice became almost amused.
“Perfect.”
Gabriel looked toward his uncle.
Vanessa continued.
“Ask him about Elaine.”
Claire felt her stomach drop.
Her mother’s name.
Gabriel’s eyes never left Arthur.
“What about Elaine?”
Arthur shook his head.
Vanessa answered for him.
“Ask him who paid for Claire’s childhood.”
Claire grabbed the edge of a table.
Gabriel said, “Arthur.”
Arthur looked at Claire.
“I tried to protect you.”
“From what?” she whispered.
“Your father.”
Claire stared at him.
“My father left before I was born.”
Arthur’s expression broke.
“No, Claire.”
He swallowed.
“Your mother lied to you.”
Gabriel became unnaturally still.
Arthur looked from Claire to Gabriel.
Then said the words neither of them was prepared to hear.
“Your father didn’t leave.”
He pointed toward a portrait hanging above the ballroom fireplace.
A portrait of Gabriel’s father, Vittorio Moretti.
“He died in this family.”
Claire’s eyes lifted toward the portrait.
Her knees nearly gave out.
“No.”
Arthur whispered, “Claire…”
“No.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“How?”
Arthur could not meet his eyes.
Claire’s voice cracked.
“You’re saying Vittorio Moretti was my father?”
Arthur hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Claire backed away.
Gabriel looked as if someone had struck him.
Claire was thirty-one.
Gabriel was forty-two.
The dates were possible.
Terribly possible.
Which meant Lucy’s birthmark suddenly made sense.
Claire looked at Gabriel.
Not as an employer.
Not as a Mafia Boss.
But as a man who might be her brother.
Then Marco interrupted.
“Sir.”
Gabriel turned sharply.
“We traced Vanessa’s car.”
“Where?”
Marco looked at Claire before answering.
“Headed toward your sister’s neighborhood.”
Claire ran.
Gabriel caught her arm.
“Claire.”
“My daughter is there!”
“I know.”
“Let go!”
“Listen to me.”
She tried to pull free.
Gabriel lowered his voice.
“You won’t help Lucy by arriving before security.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“That’s my child.”
Something shifted in Gabriel’s face.
“If Arthur is telling the truth,” he said, “she’s mine too.”
Claire stopped fighting.
Gabriel released her.
“Marco, vehicles. Now.”
Three black SUVs left the Moretti estate within ninety seconds.
Claire sat beside Gabriel in the second one.
Neither spoke.
Arthur sat across from them under guard.
Halfway to Claire’s sister’s apartment, Gabriel’s phone received a photograph.
He opened it.
Claire screamed.
It showed Lucy’s empty bedroom.
The window was open.
Her pink blanket lay on the floor.
Written across the wall in black marker were six words:
THE WRONG MORETTI CHILD SURVIVED.
And beneath them was a symbol Gabriel had not seen since the night his father died.
A black crown.
Arthur saw it.
His face collapsed.
Gabriel looked at him.
“What is that?”
Arthur whispered, “The reason Teresa disappeared.”
May you like
Then he looked at Claire.
“And the reason Lucy was born.”
