Chapter 10 - THE CHILD THEY STOLE FROM LUCIA
Lucia Romano had a daughter.
A sixteen-year-old girl.
And for years, someone had kept her existence hidden.
I stared at the photograph.
Sofia.
Dark curls.
Gray eyes.
A cautious smile.
She looked so much like Isabella that my chest tightened.
I contacted Rebecca immediately.
"Does Isabella know?"
Rebecca nodded.
"She's aware of the possibility. Her legal team has been investigating."
I looked away.
Of course.
Isabella had been fighting to find her family long before I understood the battle.
Rebecca continued.
"Lucia's old medical records suggest she gave birth while living under restricted care."
My stomach turned.
"Was the child taken?"
"There's evidence of an adoption arranged under questionable circumstances."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I thought about Lucia.
Young.
Frightened.
Separated from everyone she loved.
Then becoming a mother inside a facility where other people controlled her records and contact with the outside world.
I thought about Isabella discovering this while I spent weekends with Valentina.
Shame flooded me.
The investigators traced the adoption documents.
Several signatures appeared inconsistent.
Some records had been altered.
But eventually, they identified a teenager named Sofia Bennett living in Connecticut.
She had been raised by a couple who believed the adoption was legitimate.
There was no evidence they'd known about the original irregularities.
Sofia had grown up loved.
Safe.
But unaware of Lucia.
That mattered.
She wasn't an object to be recovered.
She was a person with a family and a life.
Through independent professionals, Sofia and her adoptive parents received information about the records.
They were offered support.
And Sofia was given the opportunity to decide whether she wanted contact.
She did.
The first meeting took place in a quiet family services center.
I wasn't there.
I had no right to be.
But Isabella later allowed Rebecca to tell me what happened.
Lucia entered the room trembling.
Sofia stood beside her adoptive mother.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Sofia asked:
"Are you my birth mother?"
Lucia began crying.
"Yes."
The girl stepped forward.
And Lucia held the daughter she thought she'd lost forever.
I sat alone after hearing the story.
For the first time, I understood what my father had been trying to protect.
Not money.
Not territory.
Families.
Children.
People who deserved to live without being manipulated by powerful men.
That evening, another message arrived from Isabella.
Lucia met Sofia today.
I stared at it.
Then typed:
I'm glad.
A minute passed.
Then Isabella replied.
So am I.
For the first time since she left, our conversation didn't end with anger.
I wanted to ask whether she was okay.
Whether she missed me.
Whether she ever thought about our wedding.
Instead, I wrote:
You did something extraordinary for your sister.
Her response arrived several minutes later.
I did what anyone who loved her should have done.
I closed my eyes.
That was Isabella.
The woman I'd taken for granted.
Then Rebecca called.
Her voice was tense.
"Dante, investigators located Richard Salvatore."
I stood.
"Where?"
"At a private marina in New Jersey."
"Is he in custody?"
"Yes."
Relief washed through me.
But Rebecca wasn't finished.
"During questioning, Richard made a statement about Antonio Moretti."
My stomach tightened.
"What statement?"
She hesitated.
"He claims your father wasn't murdered because he discovered the missing money."
I went still.
"Then why?"
Rebecca took a breath.
"Because Antonio was planning to expose the entire criminal organization."
May you like
Then she revealed the final detail.
"Richard says your father had already arranged to leave the mafia behind."
