Chapter 4 - THE ARCHIVE DOSSIERLuca opened the leather ledger on the banquet table, flipping past rows of corporate acquisitions and shipping manifests until he reached the sealed legal addendum marked with the Bellini family crest.
He didn't read it out loud. But as his eyes scanned the typewritten pages, the dark veins in his neck bulged with suppressed rage.
“Four years ago,” Luca began, his voice dangerously quiet, “you approached me with an adoption proposal. You told me about an orphaned girl whose parents had perished in a car crash overseas, claiming she needed a safe home under the protection of the Moretti name.”
He slowly raised his eyes to meet Vanessa’s terrified gaze.
“You lied,” Luca said. “Her parents didn't die. Her mother surrendered custody under extreme financial duress—while you and your family forged her signature, paid off the clinic administrators in Zurich, and rewrote her birth certificate to hide the child from me.”
“Luca, listen to me!” Vanessa cried out, finally breaking down as she clutched at his sleeve. “My family only wanted to secure our alliance! We needed you bound to the Bellini dynasty permanently! If you had known the truth—that Elena’s mother was alive and wanted her back—you never would have agreed to our engagement!”
“You damn right I wouldn't have,” Luca roared, shoving her hand away so violently she stumbled into a velvet chair.
Lucy buried her face in my shoulder, whimpering softly. I held her tight, rubbing her back while my own heart pounded in my throat.
“Marcus,” Luca barked, not taking his eyes off Vanessa.
“Boss.”
“Call the federal prosecutor who handles our corporate audits. Tell him to open an immediate racketeering and child abduction investigation into Bellini Holdings. And have two of our men escort Vanessa off my property and lock her in the lower security wing until the authorities arrive.”
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Vanessa screamed as Marcus and another enforcer stepped forward, grabbing her arms and hauling her away from the banquet table while she cursed and thrashed against their grip.
The ballroom remained dead silent as the doors clicked shut behind her.
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