Chapter 8 - MY MOTHER'S NAME IN THE LEDGER
Isabella Moretti denied nothing.
That frightened Dominic.
She sat in the estate library wearing cream silk and pearls as though her son had arrived for Sunday dinner instead of confrontation.
Emily sat across from her.
Lily remained upstairs with a nanny Emily approved personally.
Dominic placed the ledger on the table.
“Your name.”
Isabella glanced down.
“Yes.”
“You signed transfer authorizations.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To return the money.”
Dominic stopped.
“What?”
She looked at Emily.
“Your father discovered Vincent’s theft. Antonio needed accounts Vincent could not immediately trace.”
Carter Asset Management.
Isabella had used personal family accounts to move stolen funds back into employee-benefit structures.
“So you helped Thomas.”
“Yes.”
“Then why hide it?”
“Because some of the methods were illegal.”
There it was.
Good intentions.
Bad methods.
Again.
She forged internal classifications.
Moved funds without board approval.
Used shell entities.
Not theft.
Still serious.
“If regulators had discovered it then,” Isabella said, “the company might have collapsed.”
Emily replied:
“So everyone decided workers needed their money more than they needed the truth.”
Isabella looked at her.
“Yes.”
“At least you admit it.”
Dominic watched them.
Neither woman feared the other.
This was going to be exhausting.
Then he asked:
“Did you know Thomas was alive?”
Isabella’s face changed.
“Yes.”
Dominic stood.
“All these years?”
“Yes.”
“You let Emily believe her father was dead.”
“It was not my decision.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“That makes it your decision every day afterward.”
For once, Isabella had no answer.
Emily looked at Dominic.
The same argument belonged to Thomas too.
Silence can become an action through repetition.
Then Isabella said:
“Vincent found out six months ago.”
Dominic froze.
“How?”
“Stephen.”
Lombardi.
“He discovered an old payment to the Montreal facility.”
“So Vincent ordered Emily removed?”
“I believe so.”
“Believe?”
“I have no proof.”
Good.
No speculation.
Then Isabella told them why Emily had been hired at Moretti Holdings.
Antonio arranged scholarship support.
But Emily earned the job herself.
Years later, she applied through ordinary recruitment.
Nobody placed her.
The irony was vicious.
After seventeen years hiding her from Moretti business, she walked into it herself because she was qualified.
Vincent eventually noticed the surname.
Then her pension investigation made her dangerous.
Emily asked:
“What does he want now?”
“The trust.”
“Why?”
Isabella looked at Dominic.
“Thomas’s twelve percent became much more.”
“How much?”
Dominic already suspected.
Carter Asset Management had been folded into multiple holdings.
If the original participation rights survived, Emily might own a meaningful piece of Moretti Plaza itself.
Marco called from the hallway.
“We found the trust.”
He entered carrying preliminary records.
Current estimated value:
One hundred eighty-six million dollars.
Emily laughed.
Actually laughed.
“I have forty-three dollars in checking.”
No one knew what to say.
Then Marco continued.
“There’s a complication.”
Of course.
Vincent filed a claim seven months ago arguing the trust reverted to Moretti Holdings because Thomas was legally deceased.
Dominic stared.
“But Thomas is alive.”
“Yes.”
“If we prove that, Vincent loses.”
“Probably.”
Emily said:
“Then we find my father.”
Exactly.
Then Dominic’s phone buzzed.
A photograph.
Thomas Carter sitting in the back seat of a car.
Today’s newspaper beside him.
Alive.
Message:
STOP LOOKING AT THE LEDGER.
Emily went white.
A second message appeared.
DOMINIC KNOWS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN FAMILY SECRETS BECOME PUBLIC.
Then a third.
ASK HIS MOTHER WHAT HAPPENED TO CARLO BELLINI.
Marco stood behind Dominic.
He had read it.
His face emptied.
“My father?”
May you like
Isabella closed her eyes.
And Dominic realized there was still one death in the family nobody had questioned.
