Chapter 8: The Truth Vincent Was Never Allowed to See
Vincent stared at Alessandro.
The words made no sense.
“It was me?””
Alessandro nodded slowly.
“That is what the record says.””
Elena stepped closer.
“Vincent, listen—”
“No.””
His voice was quiet.
Almost calm.
“What does that mean?””
Alessandro opened the folder again.
“There was a consent form.””
Vincent looked at the paper.
His own name was written at the bottom.
But the signature was not his.
Someone had copied it.
Someone had used his authority.
“They forged my signature.””
Alessandro nodded.
“Yes.””
Vincent looked at the document.
The realization was worse than anger.
Someone had not only hidden Matteo’s injury.
They had created a story where Vincent himself appeared responsible.
“Why?””
Nobody answered.
Then Elena spoke.
“Because if you believed you were responsible, you would never look deeper.””
Vincent turned toward her.
“You knew?””
“I suspected.””
“You suspected someone framed me?””
Elena’s eyes filled with tears.
“I suspected someone wanted Matteo to believe you abandoned him.””
The sentence cut deeper than anything else.
Vincent looked toward the hidden room.
The drawings.
The letters.
The recordings.
All the things his son had kept hidden.
“All these years…”
His voice broke.
“He thought I didn’t protect him.””
Elena whispered:
“He thought you chose the family over him.””
Vincent looked away.
That was the truth he had been avoiding.
Not the crime.
Not the lies.
The pain.
His son had grown up believing his father would not come.
A sound came from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
Matteo stood there.
He had followed them.
Vincent looked at him.
“How long have you known?””
Matteo didn’t answer immediately.
“About the recordings?””
Vincent nodded.
Matteo looked down.
“Years.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
The boy who had once hidden beneath the table stood silently.
Then he answered:
“Because every time I tried, someone reminded me what happened when I talked.””
Vincent felt his chest tighten.
“Who?””
Matteo looked toward the old recorder.
“Grandma.””
Nobody spoke.
Matteo continued.
“She told me you were busy. She told me you had more important things to handle.””
Vincent stepped closer.
“She lied.””
“I know that now.””
The words hurt.
Because Matteo had learned the truth without him.
Vincent reached for his son.
Matteo hesitated.
Then finally allowed him to.
For a moment, the room was quiet.
No family politics.
No secrets.
Just a father and son.
Then Alessandro’s phone rang again.
This time, everyone knew it was bad news.
He answered.
“Marco?””
His face changed.
“What happened?””
A pause.
Then:
“No.””
He listened.
“No, don’t move. Stay where you are.””
Vincent looked at him.
“What is it?””
Alessandro ended the call.
“Marco found the final piece.””
“What piece?””
Alessandro looked terrified.
“The person who ordered the cover-up.””
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“Who?””
Alessandro hesitated.
Then he said:
“Someone who had access to every family record.””
Vincent waited.
“Someone who could enter your office.””
The room became silent.
Elena whispered:
“No…”
Alessandro looked at Vincent.
“It was someone close to you.””
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?””
Before Alessandro could answer, the lights in the old estate suddenly went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
A second later, something crashed downstairs.
Everyone froze.
Vincent immediately moved toward the door.
“Stay here.””
A shadow passed beneath the hallway light.
Someone was inside.
Someone who knew exactly where they were.
Then Vincent heard a familiar voice from the darkness.
“Looking for answers, Vincent?””
He stopped.
May you like
Because the voice belonged to someone who should never have been there.
And someone who knew the secrets of the Moretti family better than anyone alive.
