THE RESURRECTION OF ISABELLA MORETTI

I stared at the grainy photograph in my trembling hands.

The man holding my mother’s arm had dark, intense eyes and a sharp jawline that mirrored the face I saw in the mirror every morning.

My father.

Anthony Bellini.

The man Isabella had loved, the man Vincent claimed died in a fiery car crash in Rome before I was even born.

Yet here he was, standing outside my childhood apartment in Chicago when I was six years old.

“He’s alive?” I whispered, the words catching in my throat. “My father is alive?”

“Impossible,” Vanessa choked out, leaning heavily against her bodyguard. “I went to his funeral. I saw the casket go into the ground. Father, you told me he burned in the wreckage!”

Vincent Bellini gripped the armrests of his leather chair, his frail body shaking with a fury he could no longer contain.

“He was weak!” Vincent snarled, ripping the oxygen mask from his face. “He was meant to inherit my empire, and he wanted to throw it all away to play house with a Moretti girl and a bastard child! He disgraced the Bellini name!”

Luca stepped closer to the desk, his presence dominating the room.

“So you tried to kill him,” Luca deduced, his voice cold as ice. “You ordered the hit on your own son in Rome to stop him from coming back for Isabella.”

“He survived,” Vincent spat bitterly. “The cowards I hired ran his car off the road, but they didn’t confirm the kill. Anthony walked away from the wreckage. He knew I ordered the hit. So he let the world think he died.”

I looked back down at the photograph.

If Anthony survived, if he knew Isabella was locked in a psychiatric ward, why hadn't he come for her?

“Why was he in Chicago with my mother?” I asked, my voice demanding answers.

Vincent let out a cruel, rattling laugh.

“Because he spent six years hunting down the nurse who took you. When he finally found her, he realized she had already hidden you away under a fake name. He stayed in the shadows to protect you from me. He knew if I found out he was alive, I would use you to flush him out.”

“You monster,” Vanessa whispered, staring at her father as if seeing him for the first time. “You killed my brother. You locked up a pregnant woman. You forced me to marry Luca to steal his company. You destroyed our entire family.”

“I SAVED THIS FAMILY!” Vincent roared, slamming his fist onto the desk.

The sudden exertion was too much for his frail heart. He gasped, clutching his chest, his face turning a terrifying shade of purple. He slumped forward over the desk, gasping for air.

His bodyguards rushed forward, grabbing his oxygen mask and pressing it to his face.

Luca didn’t flinch. He watched the old man suffer with cold detachment.

“We have what we need,” Luca said, turning to me. He grabbed the folder containing the hospital records and the photograph. “Let’s go, Natalie.”

“Wait,” Vanessa said suddenly, stepping in front of the study doors.

She looked at Luca, tears streaming down her flawless face.

“Take me with you,” she pleaded. “If I stay here, when he recovers, he’ll punish me for letting you into the vault. Please, Luca. Our engagement was a sham, but I don’t want to die for his sins.”

Luca stared at her for a long moment.

“You’re coming with us,” Luca agreed coldly. “But not for your protection. You’re coming because you’re going to testify against him when we hand these records over to the federal prosecutor.”

Vanessa nodded frantically. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

The drive back to the Moretti estate was silent.

The rain had started to fall, drumming against the roof of the armored SUV. I sat in the backseat, clutching the photograph of my father and the wooden music box against my chest.

Everything I knew about my life was a lie.

My mother wasn’t my mother—she was a nurse paid to disappear.

My father wasn’t a dead soldier—he was a mafia prince who faked his death to protect me.

And the woman I had served tea to for four years, Teresa Moretti, was my grandmother.

When we finally pulled through the iron gates of the Moretti estate, the mansion was entirely dark, save for the lights blazing in the front drawing room.

Marco, the security chief, opened the front door before Luca even reached the steps.

“Boss,” Marco said, his face tight with concern. “Isabella and Teresa are waiting in the drawing room. But we have a problem.”

“What is it?” Luca demanded, striding past him into the foyer.

“There was a breach while you were gone,” Marco reported, following closely. “Someone slipped past the perimeter guards. They didn’t take anything, and they didn’t hurt anyone. But they left something for Natalie.”

I stopped in my tracks. “For me?”

We hurried into the drawing room.

Teresa was sitting in her wheelchair near the fireplace, clutching Isabella’s hand. Both women looked terrified.

Resting on the mahogany coffee table in the center of the room was a small, black velvet box.

“It was sitting on the dining table when we came back in,” Isabella said, her voice shaking. “Marco’s men didn’t see anyone enter or leave.”

Luca stepped forward, pulling a pair of leather gloves from his pocket before touching the box.

He slowly opened the lid.

Inside the velvet box rested a heavy gold signet ring.

Engraved on the flat surface of the gold was the Bellini family crest—a falcon clutching a snake.

Vanessa gasped, stepping forward.

“That’s Anthony’s ring,” she whispered. “He wore it every day of his life. He never took it off.”

Luca pulled a small folded note from beneath the ring.

He read it silently, his jaw tightening.

Then he looked directly at me.

“He knows you found out the truth tonight, Natalie,” Luca said, his voice solemn.

He handed me the note.

The handwriting was rushed, jagged, and urgent.

Natalie, if you are reading this, the secrets have finally broken. Do not trust Vincent. Do not trust the Moretti family. Meet me at St. Jude’s Cemetery at midnight. Come alone. It’s time I told you what really happened to the nurse who raised you.

My blood turned to ice.

“What does he mean, what happened to her?” I asked, looking up at Luca.

“Your mother passed away from cancer three years ago, Natalie,” Luca said softly. “You told me that when you applied for the job.”