Chapter 7 - THE TRUE HEIR
The mansion held its breath.
Teresa stood at the top of the stairs, waving the yellowed paper like a flag of victory. Luca kept his gun leveled at her chest, but his hand trembled.
"Read it, Teresa," Luca demanded. "If it's the truth, read it."
Teresa smiled. She unfolded the delicate paper. "Your mother wrote this on her deathbed, Luca. She knew I would find it."
Teresa cleared her throat and read aloud. "'To my sister, Teresa. I have lived a lie to protect this family. Luca is strong, but he does not carry the Moretti blood. He was adopted to hide my infertility. Matteo was my only biological child. The empire belongs to his line alone.'"
The words hit Luca like a physical blow. He stumbled backward, lowering his gun. "No. That's a lie."
"Is it?" Teresa asked. "Look at yourself, Luca. You look nothing like your father. You look nothing like me."
Teresa pointed a wrinkled finger at the little boy cowering behind my legs. "Leo is the true heir. And since he is a child, the syndicate rules dictate that the oldest living blood relative becomes the regent. That is me."
Answer one: Teresa orchestrated the entire night to expose Luca's adoption and seize control of the mafia empire as Leo's regent.
"You set up Vanessa," I realized, speaking aloud. "You found out about Leo. You used Vanessa's gambling debts to force her to sell him to the Russians, so you could 'rescue' him later and play the hero."
Teresa looked down at me. "The housekeeper speaks. Yes, Emma. Vanessa was a foolish, greedy girl. She was easy to manipulate."
Vanessa wept in the doorway, her hands still bound.
Luca looked completely broken. The empire he had bled for, the family he had killed for, wasn't his.
"So what now, Aunt Teresa?" Luca asked hollowly. "You kill me?"
"No," Teresa said. "You leave. You walk out that door, and you never come back. If you stay, the syndicate will tear you apart for sitting on a stolen throne."
Luca looked at his gun. Then he looked at Leo. He was ready to surrender.
"Wait," I said.
Everyone looked at me.
"The chipped plate," I said, my heart racing as the memory flooded back.
"What about it?" Luca asked.
I looked at Teresa. "At dinner, Teresa said your mother served you on that plate every Sunday until she died. But if your mother hated that you were adopted, why would she give you the special plate?"
Teresa's face tightened. "It was just a plate."
"No," I said, stepping toward the stairs. "I washed that plate this morning. I felt the chip on the edge. It wasn't chipped from dropping it. It was hollowed out."
I turned and ran into the dining room. The table was still a mess from the ruined dinner. I found the chipped porcelain plate resting near Luca's seat. I picked it up and smashed it against the edge of the mahogany table.
The porcelain shattered.
From inside the hollowed rim of the plate, a small, rolled-up piece of parchment fell to the floor.
I grabbed it and ran back to the foyer. I unrolled the parchment and held it up.
"This is the real letter," I said, breathless.
Luca took it from my hands. He read it silently. His posture changed. The defeat vanished, replaced by a cold, deadly clarity.
"What does it say?" Teresa demanded, her voice losing its calm edge.
Luca looked up at her. "It says my mother knew you were poisoning her, Teresa."
Teresa went completely pale.
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"It says she knew you were trying to kill her to take control of my father," Luca continued, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "It says she adopted me not because she was infertile, but because she knew you would try to murder any child she bore. She brought me in from the outside to be a shield. To be a warrior."
Luca raised his gun again. "She didn't write that I wasn't a Moretti. She wrote that I was the only one strong enough to stop you."
