Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN MY FATHER PROMISED TO PROTECT
Isabella met my father when she was nineteen.
That was what the photograph proved.
And for eleven years of marriage, neither of us had ever mentioned it.
I stared at the image.
Isabella looked younger.
Her hair was longer.
Her expression was serious.
Antonio stood beside her with one hand resting gently on Lucia's shoulder.
My father had always been stern.
Rarely affectionate.
Yet in that photograph, he looked almost protective.
I contacted Isabella through her attorney.
She agreed to answer questions in writing.
The first message arrived that evening.
Yes, I knew Antonio.
My heart tightened.
I wrote back.
Why didn't you tell me?
Her answer came twenty minutes later.
Because he asked me not to.
I stared.
Then another message appeared.
Your father discovered what was happening at Saint Catherine's. He wanted to help Lucia and me get away from the people controlling the foundation.
I swallowed.
Did he know Richard was involved?
He suspected it.
I leaned back.
For years, I'd believed Antonio Moretti only cared about power.
Now I was learning he'd tried to protect two frightened young women.
Isabella continued.
He gave me a copy of certain financial records and told me to keep them safe.
Then he was murdered.
I closed my eyes.
A terrible realization formed.
Did you marry me because of those records?
The answer didn't arrive immediately.
I stared at the screen.
For the first time, I was terrified of learning the truth.
Then Isabella replied.
No.
Relief washed through me.
But her next message hurt.
I married you because I loved you.
I kept the records because I promised your father I wouldn't let his death protect the men responsible.
I stared.
She had carried that promise through eleven years of marriage.
Through birthdays.
Anniversaries.
Business celebrations.
And finally through my betrayal.
Then she wrote something I couldn't stop reading.
I thought if I showed you the evidence, you'd become the man Antonio hoped you'd be.
But every year, you grew more like the men he was trying to stop.
My eyes burned.
I wanted to argue.
To remind her of the people I'd protected.
The businesses I'd built.
The enemies I'd defeated.
But none of that changed the truth.
I'd become a man whose power depended on fear.
And the woman who knew me best no longer felt safe beside me.
The following morning, I met Rebecca.
"I want an independent audit of every legitimate Moretti company."
She stared.
"Every company?"
"Yes."
"And the criminal operations?"
I swallowed.
"We begin dismantling them and cooperating with the relevant authorities."
Rebecca studied me.
"Dante, that will have consequences."
"I know."
"Serious consequences."
"I know."
For the first time in years, I wasn't thinking about expanding my empire.
I was thinking about whether there would be anything worth saving when the truth was finally told.
Then Rebecca opened another file.
"There's something else about Antonio."
My heart tightened.
"What?"
"He established a private trust shortly before his death."
"For whom?"
She hesitated.
Then answered.
"Lucia Romano."
I stared.
My father had set aside a fortune for Isabella's missing sister.
May you like
But the account had been controlled for nineteen years by Richard Salvatore.
And according to the latest records, more than thirty million dollars had disappeared.
