Chapter 3 - What the Golden Door Had Been Hiding

Emma stared at the damaged family tree.

Her name was still readable.

Barely.

The letters had been cut through again and again with something sharp.

Luca stepped closer.

“Who had access?”

Caterina shook her head.

“Vittorio. His attorney. Two trustees.”

“And the Vescari family?” Emma asked.

“No.”

Belini spoke from the doorway.

“Then perhaps you should stop looking at me.”

Everyone turned.

She had followed them after all.

Her red gown looked almost black in the dim archive.

Luca’s expression cooled.

“I told you to stay outside.”

“You also accused my family in front of four hundred people.”

“I haven’t accused anyone yet.”

Belini looked at the scratched name.

“Then what do you call this?”

“A reason to keep asking questions.”

Dante entered behind her with two guards.

The room was smaller than Emma expected.

Shelves.

Locked cabinets.

Old ledgers.

Photographs.

A long walnut desk beneath a portrait of Vittorio Moretti.

Emma had never met him.

Yet the painted eyes looked disturbingly familiar.

Her eyes.

She looked away.

Caterina opened the first cabinet.

Inside were sealed envelopes arranged by year.

Luca found one marked with Isabel’s initials.

Empty.

Dante found another.

“Boss.”

He placed an old ledger on the desk.

The pages listed monthly transfers.

No full names.

Only codes.

I.C.

Twenty-five years of payments.

Emma felt cold.

“My mother?”

Caterina nodded.

“Vittorio supported her.”

Emma looked at the final date.

The payments ended the month her mother died.

Belini folded her arms.

“That sounds like evidence Vittorio hid a mistress. Not evidence against my family.”

Dante turned another page.

A second column appeared.

V.H.

Vescari Holdings.

Every payment to Isabel had been routed through a Vescari-controlled account.

Luca looked up.

Belini stopped breathing for half a second.

Emma saw it.

“So they knew where she was.”

Caterina whispered, “All those years.”

Belini shook her head.

“My father controls hundreds of companies. That proves nothing about what he personally knew.”

Luca closed the ledger.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Then help me prove it.”

Belini hesitated.

“Open your family records.”

Her eyes hardened.

“No.”

Emma almost admired the honesty.

Almost.

Dante moved to another cabinet.

Locked.

Emma’s medallion had opened the room, but not the cabinet.

Caterina pointed to the pendant.

“Try the edge.”

Emma pressed it against the brass plate.

Nothing.

Then she noticed the crescent-shaped scratch along one side.

The same shape as the birthmark beneath her hair.

She rotated the medallion.

Click.

The cabinet opened.

Inside was a small wooden box.

A hospital bracelet.

A baptism certificate.

And a photograph.

Emma picked up the bracelet first.

The ink had faded.

But the date remained.

Her birthday.

The certificate named the mother.

Isabel Caterina Carter.

The father line was blank.

Luca lifted the photograph.

His expression changed.

“What?”

Emma asked.

He turned it toward her.

Isabel stood outside a clinic holding a newborn.

Vittorio stood beside her.

And on Vittorio’s other side was a younger Vincent Vescari.

Belini’s father.

Emma looked at Belini.

She had gone completely still.

The photograph was dated two days after Emma’s birth.

Caterina sat down heavily.

“He was there.”

Belini recovered.

“My father did business with Vittorio for decades.”

“At a private clinic?” Emma asked.

Belini did not answer.

Dante took the photo.

“There’s writing on the back.”

Luca read it.

His jaw tightened.

Emma stepped closer.

“What does it say?”

He looked at Belini before answering.

“Vincent promised the child would remain protected as long as Isabel stayed silent.”

Emma’s throat went dry.

“Silent about what?”

Caterina looked toward the shelves.

“I think I know.”

She pulled an old red ledger from the lowest shelf.

Not Moretti black.

Vescari red.

Belini moved before anyone else.

“Don’t open that.”

The room froze.

Luca looked at her.

There it was.

Not denial.

Not caution.

Fear.

Emma stared.

“You know what it is.”

Belini’s face changed.

Only slightly.

But enough.

Luca placed one hand on the ledger.

“What is it?”

Belini whispered, “Something your father should have burned.”

Luca opened the cover.

On the first page were three names.

Vittorio Moretti.

Vincent Vescari.

And Isabel Carter.

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Beside Isabel’s name, in red ink, was one word.

WITNESS.