Chapter 10 - Blood Is Not the Same as Loyalty
Samuel Moretti arrived at the mansion the next morning wearing an expensive coat and the expression of a man annoyed by bad publicity.
He was six years younger than Luca, with the same dark eyes but none of his brother's weariness. He kissed Emily on the cheek, congratulated her on the baby, and asked why the house felt like a courthouse.
“Because people have been forging documents,” Luca said. “And your name is attached to one of the companies involved.”
Samuel's smile vanished. “Careful.”
“I'm asking a question.”
“Then ask it in private.”
Emily folded her arms. “Mom's house is not your private business.”
Samuel looked at her stomach. “You should be resting.”
“I am sitting down.”
I almost smiled. She had inherited more of Luca's stubbornness than his temper.
Samuel admitted he had invested in North Harbor but claimed he had never approved a forged entry or authorized anyone to enter the house. The company had been managed by Adrian Bellini. He said he could supply records showing that he'd questioned certain transfers years ago.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Luca asked.
Samuel looked away. “Because we were already fighting. Because I thought you would accuse me of trying to steal from you.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
Daniel Price, the attorney, asked Samuel not to destroy or alter any documents and arranged to receive copies through counsel. Samuel agreed reluctantly. Then he turned to leave.
At the doorway he stopped.
“There's something you should know about Adrian,” he said. “He kept a personal insurance file. Names, payments, embarrassing photographs. He called it protection.”
“Where?” Luca asked.
“I don't know. But he showed me a copy of a ledger once. He said it could ruin everyone if anybody challenged him.”
Luca stared at his brother. “Why tell me now?”
Samuel's voice cracked. “Because Isabella was good to me. And I spent seven years pretending I didn't suspect how much trouble she was in.”
After he left, Luca sat motionless for so long that I thought he hadn't heard the final confession.
“Do you believe him?” I asked.
“I believe he's afraid,” Luca said. “That isn't the same as innocent.”
The investigators continued working. The contractor's records connected the attempted break-in to a shell company. The forged signature was submitted for examination. The school complaint about Michael was traced to a disposable email account, with supporting evidence pointing toward a public relations contractor paid by a Bellini firm.
Then a new problem arrived.
The county notified Emily that a tax lien had been filed against the Maple Street house. It claimed that a large debt had been secured by the property five years earlier.
Emily's lawyer examined the filing. The date, signatures, and legal description were inconsistent with the deed transferring ownership to Emily. It looked like another attempt to frighten her into surrendering the house.
“Can they take it?” she asked.
“Not simply because someone mailed a document,” Daniel said. “We'll challenge the lien and examine its basis.”
She let out a breath.
Luca moved beside her. “You don't have to fight this alone.”
“Then stop saying you'll handle everything,” she answered. “Say we'll handle it together.”
He swallowed. “We'll handle it together.”
That night, Samuel called me rather than his brother.
“I saw the tape,” he said.
I went cold. “What tape?”
“The one Isabella left with Thomas. Adrian knows you found it.”
“How?”
“Someone inside your circle is talking.”
I thought of every person who'd entered the house, every call we'd made, every room in which we'd whispered.
“Who?” I demanded.
May you like
Samuel hesitated.
Then he said, “Don't trust Marco.”
