Chapter 7 - THE MOTHER’S LETTER
Carmine’s smug expression faltered. The gold ring on his finger suddenly looked too heavy.
“What is that?” Carmine demanded, taking a step forward.
Richard unfolded the yellowed paper with agonizing slowness.
“Eight years ago, on the night Liam died,” Richard began, his voice echoing in the dead silent room, “my wife was driving behind him. You thought she had a heart attack because of the crash.”
Richard looked at Julian, who was still on his hands and knees, weeping.
“She didn't die of a heart attack, Julian,” Richard said gently. “She died of a broken heart. Because before she drove into that steering wheel, she wrote this letter.”
Richard held up the paper.
“She saw you in the alley, Carmine,” Richard said, turning his lethal gaze back to his brother. “She saw you pay the mechanic who cut the brakes. She followed Liam to warn him, but she was too late. As she sat in her crushed car, bleeding out, she wrote this on the back of a registration slip and hid it in the lining of her coat.”
My breath caught in my throat. My mother. My beautiful, gentle mother had tried to save Liam.
“I found it when they returned her belongings,” Richard said. “I’ve carried it in my pocket every single day for eight years. Waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” Carmine spat, though a bead of sweat was now trickling down his temple. “A piece of paper doesn't prove anything in court! It’s hearsay!”
“I wasn't waiting for court, Carmine,” Richard said softly. “I was waiting to find my daughter.”
Answer one: Richard knew Carmine was a traitor for eight years, but bided his time to ensure Sophia’s safety before dropping the hammer.
Open two: What is Richard going to do now? And what does Vanessa’s marriage to Julian actually mean if Julian doesn't have the money?
Richard snapped his fingers.
The three security guards at the door instantly drew their weapons, pointing them directly at Carmine and Vanessa.
They didn't work for Carmine after all. They were Richard’s men. Always had been.
“Three years ago, I triggered the contingency clause in the family charter,” Richard explained, smoothing his tie. “A clause our grandfather wrote. In the event of high treason by a board member, the acting CEO can dissolve the public trust and move all core assets into a private, irrevocable blind trust.”
Carmine’s face went chalk white. “You... you couldn't have. The taxes. The SEC—”
“I paid the taxes. I filed the paperwork in Geneva,” Richard said coldly. “The Moretti empire doesn't belong to the board anymore, Carmine. It doesn't belong to Julian. It certainly doesn't belong to you.”
Vanessa’s eyes darted around like a trapped rat. “Who does it belong to?”
Richard looked down at Ava, who was still clutching my apron, watching the adults with wide, silent eyes.
Richard smiled, a genuine, loving smile.
“It belongs to my firstborn grandchild,” Richard said. “Ava.”
The ballroom erupted.
Carmine stumbled backward, leaning heavily on his cane, gasping for air as if Richard had physically struck him. “You gave a billion-dollar empire to a seven-year-old bastard?”
“Watch your mouth,” Victor snarled, stepping forward, his fists clenched.
Vanessa’s mind was working frantically. The red gown she wore suddenly looked like a cheap costume. She realized she had spent eight years seducing a man, blackmailing him, and orchestrating murders for a trust fund that no longer existed.
Unless she had Ava.
“The child needs a legal guardian to manage the trust,” Vanessa said, her voice dropping to a desperate, hysterical pitch. “Sophia is unfit! She’s a waitress! She’s poor! If Julian and I adopt the girl—”
“I will die before I let you touch my daughter!” I screamed, shoving Ava behind my legs.
Vanessa’s eyes locked onto Ava. Pure, unadulterated greed warped her beautiful face into something monstrous.
“Get the girl!” Vanessa shrieked at Carmine.
Before anyone could blink, Vanessa lunged at me. Her manicured hands curled into claws, aiming straight for Ava’s hair.
I didn't think. I reacted.
I threw myself forward, taking the full brunt of Vanessa’s tackle. We hit the marble floor hard. She clawed at my face, screaming obscenities, trying to climb over me to get to my screaming child.
“Mommy!” Ava shrieked.
I punched Vanessa in the jaw. Hard. The satisfying crack of bone echoed, but she was fueled by pure desperation. She grabbed a shard of broken champagne glass from the floor and raised it above my face.
Suddenly, a heavy weight crashed into Vanessa, throwing her off me.
It was Julian.
May you like
He tackled his fiancée to the ground, pinning her wrists to the marble. Blood dripped from Vanessa’s lip, but she laughed—a manic, terrifying sound.
“You can't get rid of me, Julian!” Vanessa screamed, thrashing wildly under his weight. “I’m your wife in all but name! And you can't cut me out, Richard! Because I’m carrying Julian’s baby! My child gets half of that trust!”
