Chapter 9 - The Man Who Called Me DaughterRoom seventeen was on the top floor of an abandoned Moretti hotel.
Dante had the entire building searched twice.
Nothing.
No traps.
No cameras.
No guards.
Just dust and silence.
The key fit the door.
Inside was a private archive.
Documents lined the walls.
Old photographs filled shelves.
There were financial records.
Police reports.
Blackmail files.
Then I saw a photograph that made my knees weak.
A man standing beside Isabella.
He was younger than I expected.
Dark hair.
Sharp jaw.
A scar above his eyebrow.
The resemblance to me was unmistakable.
Dante came to my side.
“That is Gabriel Valdez.”
I stared.
“My father.”
Dante nodded.
“But there was always one problem.”
“What?”
“He died twenty-five years ago.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
Dante took out another file.
Death certificate.
Police report.
Funeral record.
Everything said Gabriel Valdez had died before I was born.
Then why did the photograph show him alive?
I turned the picture over.
A date.
One year after his supposed death.
And a handwritten note.
Still watching the twins.
My heart pounded.
“We've been lied to.”
Dante nodded.
Then another photograph caught my attention.
Carlo Moretti stood beside my father.
But they weren't enemies.
They were smiling.
A third man stood beside them.
I knew him.
I had seen him many times in Dante's house.
His consigliere.
Victor Rinaldi.
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
Dante followed my stare.
His face became hard.
“Victor.”
“He knows me?”
“He's known you since you were a child.”
I looked at the photograph again.
There was a fourth person.
A woman.
Isabella.
She looked frightened.
Her hand rested on her stomach.
Pregnant.
Dante stared at the image.
“This was taken before Gabriel was born.”
I looked closer.
There was something written on the wall behind them.
Project Second Daughter.
I turned.
“What is Project Second Daughter?”
Dante's expression changed.
“I've never heard of it.”
We searched the archive.
For nearly an hour.
Then we found a hidden drawer.
Inside was a medical file.
My name.
Elina Valdez.
Blood type.
DNA.
And one line:
Twin compatibility confirmed.
I frowned.
“Compatibility with whom?”
Dante looked at the file.
Then at me.
“Gabriel.”
My heart stopped.
“That's impossible.”
He stared at the results.
“It says you're a perfect donor match.”
“For him?”
“Yes.”
I remembered Gabriel's pale skin.
The occasional fatigue Clara mentioned.
“What is wrong with him?”
Dante was silent.
I grabbed his arm.
“What is wrong with my nephew?”
“He was born with a rare condition.”
“What condition?”
“He may need a transplant.”
My chest tightened.
“From me?”
Dante nodded.
“Possibly.”
Suddenly the baby's attachment to me felt different.
Was he sensing something biological?
Or had Isabella planned this?
Dante turned another page.
There was a note.
In case of maternal death, surviving twin is to be located immediately.
I looked at him.
“They were going to find me.”
“Yes.”
“Because of Gabriel.”
“Yes.”
“And my father knew.”
“Yes.”
I took a step backward.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
“You finally understand.”
Victor Rinaldi stood there.
Dante's gun was in his hand.
Victor smiled.
“You were always a clever girl, Elina.”
I stared at him.
“You knew me.”
“Of course.”
Dante pointed his weapon at him.
“Put the gun down.”
Victor laughed softly.
“You still don't understand, Dante.”
“What?”
“This entire time, you've been protecting the wrong woman.”
I felt a chill.
Victor looked at me.
“Elina was never the surviving twin.”
I froze.
“What?”
He smiled.
“The woman in the photograph was not Isabella.”
Dante's face changed.
Victor's voice became almost gentle.
“It was you.”
I couldn't breathe.
He continued.
“You were never supposed to remember.”
The room went silent.
May you like
Then Victor looked at Dante.
“Your wife is still alive.”
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