Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN WITHOUT A GRAVEDaniel Mercer looked older than thirty-one.
Years in hiding had done that.
He arrived at Greystone after midnight with Elena and Marco.
Sophie ran toward him before anyone could stop her.
Then froze halfway across the entrance hall.
Daniel stopped too.
He had never met his daughter.
Sophie studied him.
“Who are you?”
Daniel’s face broke.
He crouched.
“My name is Daniel.”
Sophie looked at Elena.
Her mother knelt beside her.
“Remember when you asked about your daddy?”
Sophie nodded slowly.
Elena touched Daniel’s shoulder.
“This is him.”
Sophie stared.
Daniel didn’t reach for her.
He let her decide.
After several long seconds, Sophie walked closer and placed Button into his hands.
“Hold him.”
Daniel laughed through tears.
“Okay.”
She climbed into his arms.
Elena turned away, crying.
Aleandro watched from the staircase.
He envied Daniel for one second.
Then hated himself for it.
Daniel had lost three years.
Aleandro had lost five.
Pain wasn’t competition.
Later they gathered inside the library.
Samuel remained under guard elsewhere.
Daniel refused even to hear his father’s voice.
Aleandro placed a photograph of Lucia Moretti on the table.
“Tell me.”
Daniel looked at it.
“I met her two years ago.”
“Where?”
“A private facility in Quebec.”
“Why were you there?”
“Hiding.”
“From Vincent?”
“From everyone.”
Daniel explained that after surviving his staged accident, he had discovered his father’s work with Vittorio.
He tried to rescue Isabella.
Instead he was captured and held at Northstar for nearly a year.
During a transfer, he escaped.
“Before I escaped, Vincent made a mistake. He left a laptop unlocked.”
Daniel found records showing payments from a woman identified only as L.M.
“One video call was recorded.”
Daniel opened his laptop.
Aleandro stared at the screen.
An older woman appeared.
Silver hair.
Thin face.
But unmistakable.
Lucia.
His mother.
Alive.
Aleandro sat down.
Nobody spoke.
Daniel played the recording.
Lucia addressed Vincent calmly.
“Isabella must remain protected until the trust is consolidated. Vittorio’s death changes nothing.”
Vincent replied, “And Aleandro?”
“My son cannot know.”
“Eventually he will.”
“Then eventually he will hate me.”
Lucia looked tired.
“But hatred is survivable.”
The video ended.
Aleandro stared at the black screen.
His mother had been alive for twenty-six years.
She had known Isabella was alive.
She had helped keep her hidden.
“What trust?” Elena asked.
Daniel opened documents.
The financial structure was bigger than any of them knew.
Vittorio had hidden roughly $1.8 billion in international trusts, foundations, and shell companies.
But Lucia had apparently been controlling them since before Vittorio died.
“Why fake her death?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Bianca did.
When confronted, she finally revealed the rest.
Lucia discovered Vittorio’s criminal expansion during the 1990s.
She threatened to leave with Aleandro and Marco.
Vittorio refused.
Then Lucia discovered he was involved with human trafficking partners.
She secretly began gathering evidence.
Vittorio found out.
“He gave her a choice,” Bianca said. “Disappear or watch her sons die.”
Aleandro stared at his aunt.
“You knew she was alive?”
“Not then.”
“When did you learn?”
“Ten years later.”
“Everyone keeps deciding what I shouldn’t know.”
Bianca lowered her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where is she?”
“Daniel said Quebec.”
Daniel interrupted.
“She left there last year.”
“Then find her.”
Daniel shook his head.
“She’ll find you.”
As though summoned by the sentence, the lights in Greystone went out.
Emergency power came on.
Guards shouted.
Then the main entrance opened.
An elderly woman stood between two security officers.
Neither man had drawn a weapon.
They looked confused.
She wore a long black coat.
Silver hair pinned neatly behind her head.
Aleandro stopped breathing.
Lucia Moretti looked up at the staircase.
Her hand covered her mouth.
“My boy.”
Aleandro did not move.
Twenty-six years.
His mother took one step.
“Aleandro.”
“Don’t.”
She stopped.
“Where is Isabella?”
He laughed once.
Bitterly.
“You don’t get to ask.”
“I need to see her.”
“You watched her captivity for five years.”
“To keep her alive.”
“That sentence is becoming very popular in this family.”
Lucia absorbed the blow.
“You deserve the truth.”
“I deserved it twenty-six years ago.”
Marco appeared behind Aleandro.
He saw Lucia.
His knees almost buckled.
“Mom?”
Lucia began crying.
Marco crossed the hall before Aleandro could react.
He hugged her.
Lucia clung to him.
Aleandro stood frozen.
Part of him wanted to do the same.
The sixteen-year-old boy inside him wanted his mother.
The forty-two-year-old father wanted answers.
The father won.
“Library.”
Thirty minutes later, Lucia told them everything.
Vittorio had forced her disappearance.
But once free of Greystone, she had built her own secret network using money she had hidden.
At first, her goal was revenge.
Then protection.
She monitored Vittorio.
When she learned what had happened to Isabella, she attempted to intervene.
“Attempted?” Aleandro said.
“I could not simply remove her. Vittorio had safeguards. If Isabella vanished from Northstar, evidence against Elena, Daniel, Bianca—and you—would automatically be released to law enforcement and rival organizations.”
Aleandro stared.
“So?”
Lucia seemed confused.
“So I kept her alive until I could dismantle the system.”
“You chose our reputations over my daughter.”
“No. Some of the evidence was manufactured to trigger assassination contracts against you and Marco.”
“Then you should have told me.”
“I was afraid you would attack Northstar immediately.”
“I would have.”
“And Isabella would have been killed.”
Aleandro knew she might be right.
He hated that.
“After Vittorio died, why not release her?”
“Vincent took control of the dead-man protocols.”
“Because you allowed him.”
Lucia lowered her head.
“Yes.”
That admission mattered.
No excuse.
No self-defense.
Just yes.
“I failed.”
Aleandro said nothing.
Lucia continued.
“I believed I could outmaneuver him.”
“But you couldn’t.”
“No.”
“And Sophie?”
“When Vincent found Daniel had a child, everything accelerated.”
Aleandro stepped closer.
“Where is Vincent now?”
“I know.”
Everyone turned.
Lucia placed a small tracker on the table.
“He believes I am meeting him tomorrow to transfer control of the trust.”
“Where?”
“The old Moretti estate on Long Island.”
Aleandro knew the place.
His grandfather’s abandoned mansion.
Lucia looked at him.
“He wants Isabella.”
“He won’t get her.”
“He also wants Sophie.”
“He won’t get her either.”
Lucia nodded.
“We can end this tomorrow.”
Aleandro stared at the mother he had mourned for twenty-six years.
“No.”
Her face fell.
“I end it tomorrow.”
“And afterward?”
May you like
Aleandro looked toward the hall where Isabella slept.
“Afterward, this family stops burying secrets.”
