Part 2 — The Truth His Mother Buried
Part 2 — The Truth His Mother Buried
Morning came slowly over the Moretti estate.
The Christmas lights were still glowing along the windows, but the celebration was over. Empty glasses stood on tables. Wreaths hung from the doors. The mansion, which had been filled with music only hours earlier, now felt strangely silent.
Dominic had not slept.
He stood outside his mother’s private wing with Sophia’s photograph in his pocket.
Then he opened the door.
Lucia Moretti was already awake.
She sat at her writing desk beside the tall window, dressed entirely in black. A silver pot of coffee rested beside her, along with a rosary and a stack of letters.
She looked up.
“You are early, Dominico.”
Dominic walked to the desk.
He removed the photograph from his pocket and placed it in front of her.
“You know who this child is?”
Lucia didn’t look surprised.
“Yes.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“How long?”
She folded her hands.
“I knew she existed.”
“You knew?”
His voice remained calm, but something dangerous had entered it.
Lucia finally looked at the photograph.
“I went to Sophia,” she said. “I offered her money to leave.”
Dominic stared at her.
“She refused. I went again.”
“And threatened her.”
“I explained reality to her.”
“You threatened her.”
Lucia’s expression didn’t change.
“She had no family name. No position. No protection. You were being prepared to lead this family. She was not suitable.”
Dominic felt something inside him break.
“She was the woman I loved.”
“She would have destroyed everything your father built.”
“No,” Dominic said quietly. “You destroyed it.”
For the first time, Lucia’s composure faltered.
“I did what I believed was necessary.”
“You took my daughter from me.”
“I didn’t know she was pregnant.”
“You didn’t know,” Dominic repeated. “But you still made her disappear.”
Lucia looked away.
Dominic placed both hands on the desk.
“Where is Sophia buried?”
His mother said nothing.
“Where?”
“A small cemetery outside Albany.”
Dominic’s eyes closed for a moment.
Four years ago, Sophia had left his life.
Three years ago, she had died.
And he had never even known where she was buried.
He straightened.
“Before lunch, you will leave this estate.”
Lucia looked up sharply.
“You wouldn’t.”
“You will leave.”
“This family belongs to you because of me.”
“No.”
Dominic picked up the photograph.
“This family nearly cost me my daughter.”
Lucia’s face hardened.
“If you do this, I will cut you off from every alliance this family has. Every business connection. Every powerful name that has stood beside the Morettis.”
Dominic looked at her without emotion.
“You already cut me off from the only person who mattered.”
He turned toward the door.
“There is nothing left for you to take.”
He walked away.
By evening, Lucia Moretti was gone.
But Dominic’s problems were only beginning.
He found Isabella in the library.
She stood beside the tall window, staring at the snow.
She had changed from her champagne-colored engagement dress into a simple dark-green gown.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.
“I know.”
Dominic sat near the fireplace.
For the next several minutes, he told her everything.
Sophia.
His mother’s threats.
The pregnancy.
Lily.
Her death.
The photograph.
The little girl waiting beneath the staircase on Christmas night.
And finally, the decision he had already made.
When Dominic finished, Isabella remained silent.
Her hands rested loosely in her lap.
“She is three?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Her name is Lily?”
“Yes.”
Isabella looked down.
“I love you, Dominic.”
He didn’t answer.
“I love you,” she repeated. “I was ready to marry you. I was ready to become part of this family.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“But now there is a child.”
Dominic nodded.
“I cannot give her up.”
“I know.”
“I won’t.”
Isabella finally turned toward him.
For a long moment, they simply looked at each other.
Then she reached for his hand.
“That,” she whispered, “is why I love you.”
The next morning, Elena and Lily moved into the east wing.
The room was larger than the apartment they had shared for years.
Lily explored everything.
She opened closets.
She inspected lamps.
She ran across the polished floor in her socks and announced every discovery with the seriousness of a tiny explorer.
Dominic watched from the doorway.
He had commanded hundreds of men.
He had negotiated million-dollar deals without blinking.
Yet he had absolutely no idea what to do with a three-year-old child.
At breakfast, he asked the staff to prepare something simple.
Fruit.
Toast.
Warm milk.
He sat across from Lily at the table.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Dominic finally picked up a piece of toast and tried to cut it into small pieces.
The pieces were uneven.
Lily studied them.
Then she looked at him.
“Thank you, Papa.”
Dominic froze.
He looked at Elena.
Then back at Lily.
“Say that again.”
“Papa.”
Something shifted inside him.
He had spent his entire life believing power meant control.
But one tiny word had brought him to his knees.
Later that morning, Elena opened the little wooden box she had carried with her for three years.
Inside was a silver chain.
At the end of it hung a small violet-shaped pendant.
She called Lily over.
“This belonged to your mommy.”
Lily touched the pendant.
“She wanted you to have it when you were old enough.”
Dominic stood in the doorway, watching.
The violet caught the light.
For the first time since learning the truth, he felt something other than anger.
He felt hope.
But that hope lasted only until Enzo Rossi entered the room.
“Boss.”
Dominic looked at him.
“What is it?”
Enzo closed the door.
“We found something.”
He placed a thin brown envelope on the desk.
Dominic opened it.
Inside was an old hospital record.
Sophia Carter.
Three years earlier.
And beside her name was another name Dominic had never seen before.
A man.
The document contained one handwritten note.
Sophia didn’t die from complications.
Dominic’s blood ran cold.
He looked up at Enzo.
“Who wrote this?”
“We don’t know.”
“Find out.”
Enzo nodded.
“There is more.”
Dominic waited.
“The hospital file was altered.”
Silence.
“Someone removed pages from the original record.”
Dominic slowly looked toward the photograph of Sophia.
For four years, he had believed he was searching for a woman who had abandoned him.
Then he discovered she had loved him.
Now he was beginning to suspect something even darker.
Maybe Sophia’s death had never been an accident.
And if someone had hidden the truth for three years…
They might still be watching Lily.
Dominic closed the file.
His voice became cold.
“Find everyone who knew Sophia.”
He looked toward the hallway where Lily’s laughter could be heard.
“And find out who wanted her dead.”
