Chapter 6 - HIS AFFAIR GAVE THEM THE KEYS TO MY IDENTITY
Adrian read Sofia’s messages twice.
Then a third time.
One exchange from four months earlier:
SOFIA:
What was Claire’s dog called? You told me once.
ADRIAN:
Milo. Why?
SOFIA:
Random. I’m trying to remember why you hate small dogs.
ADRIAN:
Because Milo bit me the first time I met her parents.
Another:
SOFIA:
Bennett is from her dad, right? Mom’s maiden?
ADRIAN:
Carson.
Casual.
Stupid.
Intimate.
Pieces of my identity scattered across someone else’s pillow.
Sofia had sent the details to Luca.
Maybe she did not understand why he wanted them.
Maybe she did.
The result was the same.
I looked at Adrian.
“Your affair gave them the answers.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t forge the account.”
“No.”
“But you handed them the information.”
“Yes.”
His voice sounded broken.
I did not soften.
The fake account mattered because if authorities investigated Moretti money, I could appear involved.
Then Luca could offer help.
Sign the waiver.
Distance yourself from Adrian.
We make the account disappear.
Extortion built from stolen identity.
Rachel contacted federal investigators immediately.
Not Moretti contacts.
Real investigators.
The account was frozen.
Metadata linked the application to Luca’s office network.
For the first time, I could breathe.
Then Sofia called again.
This time, she was panicking.
“My father knows I gave you the files.”
“Where are you?”
“Driving.”
“Stop driving and tell me where.”
She did.
Rachel sent federal agents and local police.
Not Adrian’s men.
He hated that.
He accepted it.
Sofia was taken to a secure location.
No dramatic shootout.
No rescue by mafia soldiers.
Just law enforcement and a terrified pregnant woman realizing the men who promised her security had turned her into evidence.
That evening, Adrian and I finally sat alone for ten minutes.
Rachel remained outside.
He looked exhausted.
“I’m going to cooperate.”
“With what?”
“Everything.”
I stared.
“The legitimate fraud?”
“And the criminal side.”
My pulse changed.
“You could go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
He looked at me.
Then shook his head.
“I almost said because of you.”
“Don’t.”
“I know.”
He breathed slowly.
“I should have done it before there was anything to lose.”
That answer mattered.
He continued.
“I spent years telling myself I kept the violence contained. That I was better than the men before me because I set limits.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Nolan’s bruises were apparently within my moral limit.”
I said nothing.
“I don’t want my daughter—or son—to grow up inside that.”
The unborn baby.
His child.
Maybe.
“Are you doing prenatal paternity testing?”
“Sofia wants it.”
So did he.
A noninvasive test was arranged through her physician.
No drama.
No stolen samples.
Three days later, the result came back.
Probability of Adrian Moretti’s paternity:
99.99%.
The baby was his.
I watched him read it.
His eyes filled.
Not joy exactly.
Something more complicated.
Responsibility.
I said:
“Your child deserves you to become better.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
“And that does not mean I stay.”
His eyes closed.
“I know that too.”
Then Daniel Shaw, Adrian’s independent attorney, arrived with news.
The forged waiver had not been created by Bianca.
She had falsely notarized it.
But the digital signature itself came from a biometric signing profile stored in Adrian’s home office.
Access log:
LUCA MORETTI.
The trusted cousin had entered our house during a family dinner three weeks earlier.
May you like
And according to security footage, he had not entered alone.
Adrian’s head of security had let him into my private office.
