Chapter 8: The Son They Stole
Dante did not react.
That was how I knew the name had hit him hard.
“Read it again.””
Marco did.
“Emergency contact: Conrad Moretti.””
Samuel stared at Dante.
I watched his face carefully.
“Your father brought Nathan to the hospital?””
Dante took the tablet.
“He could have.””
“Why?””
“I don’t know.””
“Did your father have another son?””
“No.””
The answer came too quickly.
Samuel noticed.
“Dante.””
Dante looked at him.
“What?””
“You hesitated.””
“No, I didn’t.””
“You did.””
Dante set the tablet down.
“My father had affairs. Everyone knew that.””
“Children?””
“Not that I knew of.””
I remembered the DNA report.
E.W.
N.W.
Sibling probability: 99.8%.
“If the initials were altered…”
Dante looked at me.
“What?””
“The report could still be real.””
I took my phone and opened the document.
“E.W. could have been changed.””
Samuel understood first.
“N.W. too.””
“Exactly.””
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“Marco, get the original laboratory record.””
Marco nodded.
I stopped him.
“And find out who ordered the test.””
He left.
Samuel walked toward the desk.
“If Nathan was connected to Conrad Moretti, Margaret may have raised him because Conrad Whitmore was hiding something.””
Dante laughed bitterly.
“Our fathers hiding things together. Apparently that was their favorite business.””
My phone buzzed.
A message from Nathan.
I FOUND MOM’S PASSPORT.
I called him.
“Where was she going?””
“Switzerland.””
“When?””
“Tonight.””
Dante held out his hand.
“Flight?””
Nathan answered before I could ask.
“Private charter from Teterboro. Departure at nine.””
Dante checked his watch.
“Four hours.””
Nathan continued.
“I also found a storage key.””
“What kind?””
“There’s a tag. Hudson Crown Storage. Unit 306.””
Samuel’s head snapped up.
“I know that place.””
We all looked at him.
“Michael rented a unit there.””
“When?””
“The week before he died.””
Dante grabbed his coat from a chair, then remembered I was wearing it.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
“Marco!””
He appeared in the doorway.
“We’re leaving.””
Samuel stepped forward.
“I’m coming.””
“No.””
“You don’t order me around anymore.””
Dante stared at him.
Then nodded once.
An hour later, we stood inside a private storage facility in Yonkers.
The manager took one look at Dante and decided not to ask many questions.
Unit 306 opened with Nathan’s key.
Inside were twelve cardboard boxes.
A locked cabinet.
And a child’s wooden cradle.
I stopped.
“Why is that here?””
Samuel walked toward it.
He touched the carved edge.
“I’ve seen this.””
“Where?””
“At the Moretti house.””
Dante came closer.
“My mother kept it in the nursery.””
“For you?””
Dante shook his head.
“No.””
Samuel looked underneath.
Initials had been carved into the wood.
A.M.
Dante stared at them.
“Antonio Moretti.””
“Who was Antonio?””
“My older brother.””
I blinked.
“You said you didn’t have another brother.””
“I said my father didn’t have another son alive.””
Samuel whispered, “Antonio died?””
Dante nodded.
“He was seventeen.””
“When?””
“Twenty-eight years ago.””
A year before my father’s death.
“How?””
“Car accident.””
Samuel stared at the cradle.
“No.””
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“What?””
“Antonio was alive when Isabella became pregnant.””
Silence.
I felt the story shifting again.
“Why does that matter?””
Samuel looked at me.
“Because Isabella and Antonio were close.””
Dante’s face hardened.
“How close?””
Samuel hesitated.
“Very.””
Dante stepped toward him.
“My sister was twenty-six. Antonio was seventeen.””
“I know.””
“Then be careful.””
“I’m not saying he was Emma’s father.””
“Then what are you saying?””
Samuel pointed to the cradle.
“I’m saying Isabella was protecting something connected to Antonio.””
I opened the nearest box.
Inside were hospital records.
Photographs.
Bank statements.
Then I found a sealed envelope.
NATHAN.
I tore it open.
A birth certificate.
Male child.
Date matching Nathan’s birthday.
Mother:
Rebecca Hale.
Father:
Antonio Moretti.
Dante sat down.
For the first time, the most intimidating man I had ever met looked completely stunned.
“Nathan is your nephew.””
He didn’t answer.
Samuel took the certificate.
“Rebecca Hale.””
“You know her?”” I asked.
“No.””
Dante did.
His eyes lifted.
“She worked in our house.””
“What happened to her?””
“She disappeared after Antonio died.””
My phone rang.
Nathan.
I answered.
“Emma, someone’s here.””
His voice was low.
“Who?””
“I don’t know.””
A crash sounded through the phone.
“Nathan?””
“I’m okay.””
Dante grabbed my wrist.
“Put it on speaker.””
Nathan whispered, “They’re downstairs.””
“Get out,” Dante ordered.
“I can’t. They’re between me and the front door.””
“Second floor?””
“Yes.””
“Window?””
“Too high.””
Dante was already calling Marco.
Then Nathan said, “Wait.””
Footsteps sounded through the speaker.
A woman’s voice followed.
“Nathan?””
He stopped breathing.
I recognized it.
Margaret.
Nathan whispered, “Mom?””
Her voice came closer.
“I need you to listen to me.””
Dante motioned for silence.
Margaret continued.
“You found the file, didn’t you?””
Nathan said nothing.
“I tried to protect you.””
“From what?””
“From them.””
“Who?””
“The Morettis.””
Dante’s expression darkened.
Nathan’s voice broke.
“Who am I?””
Margaret went silent.
“Mom.””
“You are my son.””
“Biologically.””
Another pause.
“No.””
“Then who are my parents?””
Margaret’s voice softened.
“Your mother was Rebecca Hale.””
“And my father?””
I stared at the birth certificate.
Margaret answered.
“Antonio Moretti.””
Nathan breathed out.
Then Margaret said something none of us expected.
“But Antonio didn’t die in a car accident.””
Dante froze.
“What?”” Nathan whispered.
“He was murdered.””
Samuel’s eyes widened.
Margaret continued.
“And Emma’s father discovered who did it.””
Dante stepped closer to the phone.
“Ask her who.””
Nathan did.
Margaret laughed softly.
“You’re standing in his house.””
Every eye turned toward Dante.
His face became stone.
Nathan whispered, “Dante?””
“No,” Margaret said.
“His father.””
Conrad Moretti.
Dante closed his eyes.
Margaret continued.
“Conrad killed his own son to protect the family name. Michael Walker found the evidence. That’s why he died too.””
Samuel shook his head.
“No. She’s lying.””
Then Margaret said, “There’s a recording.””
My pulse stopped.
“Where?”” Nathan asked.
“In the storage unit.””
I looked around.
The boxes.
The cabinet.
The cradle.
Margaret’s voice came through the speaker.
“Your mother hid it inside the cradle.””
Dante dropped to one knee.
His hands moved beneath the wooden frame.
There was a click.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside lay a second cassette.
Samuel whispered, “Don’t.””
Dante picked it up.
“Why?””
Samuel backed toward the door.
His face had lost all color.
“Because Margaret is wrong.””
I stared at him.
“How do you know?””
Samuel looked at the cassette.
Then at me.
“Because I made that recording.””
Dante went still.
May you like
Samuel’s voice cracked.
“And if you play it, you’ll hear me helping your father kill Antonio.””
