Chapter 7 - The Federal Seal
The sound of federal marshals assembling outside the portico wasn't subtle. Heavy boots crunched across the gravel drive, and the distinct metallic clack of tactical gear echoed through the open windows of the foyer.
Special Investigator Sterling’s phone buzzed sharply in her trench coat pocket. She glanced down at the screen, her expression shifting from professional detachment to absolute disbelief.
"That won't be necessary," Sterling muttered, holding her hand up toward the doorway as the lead marshal stepped across the threshold. She looked directly at me. "The federal maritime judge just signed the emergency injunction. The assets of the Moretti Trust are officially frozen pending a full identity verification hearing."
Camille descended the grand staircase two steps at a time, her silk robe rustling against the wood like dry leaves. Her panic had completely overtaken her polished composure, her breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches.
"Frozen?" she demanded, grabbing Sterling by the sleeve of her trench coat. "On what grounds? I am his fiancée! The engagement announcement is in the paper! I have rights to this property under common law—"
"You have nothing, Miss Vance," Sterling said coldly, pulling her arm away from Camille's grip with a sharp jerk. "According to the federal filing submitted ten minutes ago by Arthur Vance’s own legal team—which they transmitted after realizing the safe contents had been altered—you were merely the front for a corporate acquisition scheme designed to siphon Moretti holdings into offshore accounts before the inheritance transferred to the legal heir."
Camille spun around, her eyes wide with sheer terror as she looked at me. "Gabriel... you know that's not true. Arthur is my uncle, yes, but he forced me! He said if I didn't get inside this house, if I didn't secure the signature on the merger papers, my family would lose everything—"
"You didn't just try to secure a signature, Camille," I said, my voice cutting through her frantic excuses like a razor. "You threw boiling tea at a girl who didn't even know her own name, just because she bumped your sleeve."
"She was nobody!" Camille screamed, the mask of civilization finally tearing away completely to reveal the desperate, ugly reality underneath. Her voice echoed off the twenty-foot ceilings, bouncing off the portraits of dead Moretti men who watched in absolute silence. "She was just a maid you picked up off the docks! Why are you treating her like family when I gave you three years of my life?"
"Because," a small voice piped up from behind the pillar near the library door, "she's my aunt."
Leo stood there, rubbing one eye with the back of his hand, clutching his canvas sketchbook against his chest. Mrs. Gable stood just behind him, her hands folded neatly over her apron, her face expressionless.
Camille stared at the boy as if he were a ghost.
"You..." she whispered, her knees buckling slightly as she reached out to steady herself against the cherry-wood console table. "You knew."
"Daddy told me," Leo said simply, looking up at me with my own slate-gray eyes. "He said family is the only thing that doesn't break when the floor gives out."
I knelt down on one knee beside the boy, ignoring the federal agents and the state investigator entirely. I reached into my vest pocket, pulled out the black titanium ring that Camille had given me three months ago in Newport, and placed it gently into Leo’s small palm.
"Hold onto that for a moment, buddy," I said softly.
Then I stood up, walked past Camille without sparing her a single glance, and stopped in front of Elena, who was still trembling beside Marco.
I reached into my breast pocket, pulled out the yellowed polaroid photograph from 2001, and turned it over so she could see the handwriting on the back in my father's ink.
May you like
"Welcome home, little sister," I said.
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