Chapter 7 - The Baby Hidden from Everyone

I had worked in Luca Bellini’s estate for three years.

I had polished the silver.

Changed flowers.

Carried coffee into meetings.

Opened doors.

Disappeared into the background.

Now a laboratory report said I was Sofia Bellini’s daughter.

Luca’s sister.

I wanted to tear it in half.

Instead I looked at Gregory.

“Tell me.”

He sat on the hood of the SUV.

His age suddenly visible.

“Twenty-three years ago, Sofia was pregnant.”

Luca frowned.

“No one ever said that.”

“No one knew.”

“Matteo?”

“He knew.”

“Vittorio?”

“Eventually.”

Gregory looked at me.

“Sofia was attacked before she could testify.”

“She survived.”

“The family staged her death.”

“During the escape, she went into labor.”

My mouth went dry.

Gregory continued.

“You were born early.”

“Very early.”

“At St. Anne’s.”

I whispered:

“My birth certificate says Catherine Stone was my mother.”

“She was a nurse.”

“She helped deliver you.”

“What happened?”

“Vittorio’s men arrived.”

Luca’s face hardened.

Gregory looked at him.

“Your father had to choose.”

“Between what?”

“Moving Sofia.”

“And moving the baby.”

Silence.

“They couldn’t do both without being followed.”

Luca stared at me.

Gregory continued.

“Catherine took Amelia.”

“Changed records.”

“Raised her under another name.”

I shook my head.

“She never told me.”

“She was told not to.”

“By who?”

Gregory looked ashamed.

“Me.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

“You knew my entire life.”

“No.”

“I knew the baby existed.”

“I didn’t know where Catherine went.”

“When did you find me?”

He looked at the floor.

“Six months ago.”

The same time Gregory disappeared.

I understood.

“You didn’t disappear because of Isabella’s father.”

“Not only because of him.”

“You found me.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Catherine died.”

My throat tightened.

She had died eight months earlier.

Cancer.

Quietly.

She left me almost nothing except a small apartment and a locked box I had never been able to open.

Gregory continued.

“Her obituary used your full name.”

“I recognized the date.”

“You came to the estate?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He looked at Luca.

“To see whether you were safe near him.”

Luca’s jaw tightened.

“Near me?”

Gregory nodded.

“Because if Vittorio discovered who she was, Amelia would become leverage.”

I stared at Luca.

All the strange coincidences.

My employment application accepted unusually fast.

My transfer from hotel housekeeping to private estate service.

Gregory’s occasional questions.

Isabella’s sudden interest in who staffed the library.

Had I ever been invisible?

Or had everyone been watching?

Luca asked Kramer:

“Why did Vittorio test Amelia?”

Kramer looked terrified.

“He didn’t.”

“What?”

“The second sample came from a glass.”

I felt sick.

“The estate.”

Kramer nodded.

“A water glass collected from staff quarters.”

Luca’s face darkened.

“Who brought it?”

“Elena Ward.”

Marcus swore.

Elena.

The second-line heir.

The woman who knew the Crown existed.

The woman inside Luca’s house.

Kramer continued.

“Elena thought Amelia was Sofia’s daughter.”

“She wanted confirmation.”

“Why?”

“Because the Succession File is not with Sofia.”

Gregory stood.

“What?”

Kramer looked at me.

“It was hidden with the baby.”

Everyone stared.

I whispered:

“I don’t have any file.”

Gregory asked:

“Did Catherine leave you anything?”

The locked box.

I thought of it immediately.

My apartment.

Bottom of the closet.

Old wood.

Brass corners.

No key.

I looked at Luca.

“Yes.”

We drove to my apartment.

The door was open.

Luca stopped me before I entered.

Marcus drew his weapon.

Inside, drawers had been emptied.

Mattress cut.

Cabinets open.

Closet destroyed.

The box was gone.

I stood in the doorway.

“Too late.”

Luca looked around.

“No.”

He walked to the window.

On the floor beneath it was a small brass object.

A key.

Not from my box.

A key tag.

Number 27.

Gregory picked it up.

He stared.

“What?”

He showed Luca.

ST. ANNE’S ARCHIVE.

My birth hospital.

We drove there.

The hospital had been renovated twice.

The old archive was underground.

Locker 27 contained one envelope.

For Amelia.

My hands shook.

Inside was a photograph.

Catherine Stone holding a newborn.

Sofia in a hospital bed.

Matteo beside her.

And eleven-year-old Luca standing near the window.

Luca stared.

“I was there?”

Gregory shook his head.

“No.”

“That can’t be.”

But the boy was him.

Same eyes.

Same scar beneath the chin.

The photograph had a date.

Three days before Sofia’s official death.

Luca whispered:

“I don’t remember this.”

A note fell from the envelope.

Catherine’s handwriting.

Amelia,

If you ever find this, the most dangerous lie is not that Sofia died.

It is that Luca remembers the night she did.

Luca’s face changed.

“What does that mean?”

Gregory looked at him.

“Your uncle drugged you.”

Luca stared.

“The tape.”

Gregory nodded.

“You were sleeping when Vittorio carried you.”

Luca looked back at the photograph.

“I had already met Amelia.”

“A newborn.”

“Yes.”

“And my mother was alive.”

“Yes.”

Luca’s breathing slowed.

“Then why do I remember her funeral?”

Gregory’s face became grim.

“Because Vittorio made sure you did.”

The archive door slammed.

Locked from outside.

Marcus ran to it.

No movement.

Then smoke began entering through the vent.

Isabella looked up.

“Fire.”

Luca grabbed a metal chair.

Marcus struck the door.

Again.

Again.

Smoke thickened.

I searched the lockers.

Behind number 27 was a maintenance panel.

Loose.

Inside was a small black memory card taped to the wall.

I pulled it free.

Written across it:

LUCA’S MEMORY.

I held it up.

Gregory stared.

“That isn’t the Succession File.”

Luca struck the door again.

“What is it?”

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Gregory looked at the card.

“The reason Vittorio was never afraid of what you remembered.”