Chapter 4 - The Man Who Stole a TwinDante Moretti's father had been dead for sixteen years.
Yet the moment I saw his face, I knew I had seen him before.
The photograph lay on Dante's desk.
An older man.
Silver hair.
Cold eyes.
Elegant suit.
His name was Carlo Moretti.
The founder of the empire.
The man who had supposedly died peacefully of a heart attack.
I stared at the photograph.
My head throbbed.
“That voice…”
Dante nodded.
“My father.”
“Why would he take me?”
“I don't know.”
“You said your father was already running the organization when Isabella was alive.”
“He was.”
“And he knew about me?”
“I thought he did.”
“Why would he hide me?”
Dante looked away.
Then he opened a drawer.
Inside was a thick file.
Photographs.
Hospital records.
Old police reports.
Bank transfers.
Everything connected to Isabella.
He placed a document in front of me.
The top read:
VALDEZ TWINS.
My heartbeat accelerated.
There were two birth certificates.
One for Isabella.
One for another child.
The second name had been blacked out.
But underneath the black ink, I could see the first three letters.
Eli.
I looked up.
“That's me.”
Dante nodded.
“The original birth record lists both twins.”
“Then why doesn't mine exist now?”
“Because somebody deleted it.”
“Who?”
He pointed at the bottom of the page.
A signature.
Carlo Moretti.
I stared.
“Your father destroyed my identity.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dante shook his head.
“We need more evidence.”
I pushed the file away.
“No. We need answers.”
“I agree.”
He looked toward Gabriel, sleeping in a nearby bassinet.
“But we also need to keep him alive.”
I stared at the child.
“What does Gabriel have to do with my past?”
“Everything.”
Dante handed me another photograph.
It showed Isabella in the hospital.
She was holding newborn Gabriel.
But there was something wrong.
A second person stood beside her.
A nurse.
Her face had been scratched out.
“What is that?”
“The hospital nurse who delivered Gabriel.”
“Where is she now?”
“Dead.”
My stomach dropped.
“Of course.”
Dante frowned.
“What?”
“Everyone who knows anything dies.”
He looked at me.
“You're still alive.”
“So far.”
Silence.
Then the intercom crackled.
“Boss.”
Dante pressed a button.
“What?”
“The police are here.”
His face hardened.
“What do they want?”
“They say they have a warrant.”
“Under what charge?”
There was a pause.
“They say Elina Valdez is wanted for the murder of Isabella Moretti.”
I couldn't breathe.
Dante turned toward me.
I stared at him.
“They're lying.”
“I know.”
“How?”
He looked at the photograph of Isabella.
“Because Isabella's killer is standing closer than the police realize.”
Within minutes, sirens surrounded the estate.
Dante's men took positions.
He moved toward me.
“You're not leaving this house.”
“I can't stay here.”
“You'll be arrested.”
“And if I stay?”
He stared into my eyes.
“Then I can protect you.”
I wanted to hate him for saying it.
Instead, something in his voice stopped me.
He wasn't ordering me.
He was afraid.
Not for himself.
For me.
He took my hand.
“Trust me.”
I pulled away.
“I don't trust mafia bosses.”
A strange expression crossed his face.
“Neither did Isabella.”
He turned.
“And she trusted me anyway.”
The police began pounding on the gates.
Then another sound came from upstairs.
A baby crying.
Gabriel.
I ran.
Dante followed.
His nursery door was open.
The crib was empty.
I froze.
The window was shattered.
The curtains moved in the wind.
Dante stared at the empty crib.
His face became terrifyingly calm.
“Lock the property.”
Men scattered.
I ran to the window.
Below was a garden.
No child.
No attacker.
Nothing.
Then I noticed something on the floor.
A tiny black ribbon.
I picked it up.
A scent hit me.
Lavender.
I knew that scent.
I had smelled it my whole childhood.
My mother's perfume.
I looked at Dante.
“Someone in this house wears my mother's perfume.”
His expression changed.
“Who?”
I remembered Clara.
The old housekeeper.
We ran downstairs.
She was gone.
Dante's men searched the house.
A few minutes later, they found her car abandoned outside the east gate.
Inside was one thing.
A handwritten note.
Dante opened it.
His face hardened.
“What does it say?”
He handed it to me.
Four words.
She took the baby.
I stared.
May you like
Then Dante whispered:
“Clara took Gabriel.”
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