Chapter 7 - ELENA HAD KNOWN SHE WAS MY SISTER THE ENTIRE TIME
I stared at Elena.
She had been the first person to greet me in the estate.
“You’re smaller than I pictured.”
“I know who you are.”
Now those words meant something entirely different.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since I was eighteen.”
I laughed once.
“Of course you did.”
Luca looked more betrayed than I felt.
“You’re not my mother’s daughter?”
Elena shook her head.
Vittorio’s wife believed Elena was hers?
No.
Need plausible. Vittorio's wife, Isabella, died after childbirth? The public story: Elena was born via private arrangement after Isabella miscarried? Vittorio falsified. Let's explain.
Vittorio’s wife Isabella suffered a late pregnancy loss.
At nearly same time, Anna secretly gave birth to Vittorio’s daughter after an affair during a separation from Thomas.
Vittorio brought baby into Moretti home and registered Elena as his and Isabella’s.
Isabella knew.
Accepted because she wanted daughter.
Anna surrendered Elena.
Then returned to Thomas.
Dad looked destroyed.
“Was Sophia mine?”
I almost slapped him.
Vittorio answered:
“Yes.”
Thank God.
DNA records confirmed if needed.
Mom and Dad reconciled later.
Sophia born two years after Elena.
So family map:
Matteo = Anna + Thomas, adopted by Vittorio.
Elena = Anna + Vittorio, raised Moretti.
Sophia = Anna + Thomas.
Luca = Vittorio + Isabella.
Thus:
Sophia full sister Matteo.
Sophia maternal half sister Elena.
Luca paternal half brother Elena.
Luca not biologically related to Sophia or Matteo.
Fine.
Then Luca looked at Elena.
“You let me believe we shared a mother.”
“We shared a mother in every way that mattered.”
Isabella raised her.
True.
“But you knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Father made me promise.”
Vittorio said:
“No.”
Everyone looked.
“I asked. You chose.”
Good.
No shifting.
Elena closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
She had chosen.
Then I asked:
“Did you push this marriage because I was your sister?”
“Yes.”
That hurt strangely.
“Why not tell me?”
“Because I was afraid you’d hate this family before knowing Luca.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So you manufactured a wedding?”
“When you say it that way—”
“There is no flattering way.”
She accepted.
Then why did Anna hide Elena?
Shame.
Protection.
Vittorio power.
Complex.
Anna later regretted.
That was why Lake Como will split:
Matteo.
Elena.
Sophia.
Three biological children.
The land was meant to reunite them after her death.
Not fund Moretti.
Not marriage.
A family inheritance.
The actual will gave equal thirds.
Vittorio and Alessandro had suppressed that, showing Sophia as sole heir then moving land.
Why?
Vittorio admitted.
“To keep Elena here.”
If Elena had known she owned independent wealth, maybe she would leave.
That was monstrous in quieter way.
He wanted daughter near him.
So stole freedom financially.
Elena cried.
“I hate you.”
Vittorio nodded.
“You should.”
Then Luca asked:
“Why tell us now?”
“Because I am dying.”
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
At least honest.
Then another issue.
If actual will surfaced, Bennett land should revert to three siblings.
No marriage needed.
No Matteo trust trick.
Everything could be solved through courts.
Why had Elena and Matteo not found full will?
Because original was stored with Anna’s U.S. attorney.
Who?
Thomas Bennett.
Dad?
No, he is Thomas. Could be he had it.
Dad looked shocked.
“I never saw equal-thirds will.”
Then Anna’s attorney name:
Margaret Shaw.
Boston.
Still alive.
We called.
She remembered Anna.
And yes—
she had original sealed will.
Why never execute?
Thomas Bennett instructed her after Anna died that Italian assets had been “handled separately.”
Dad froze.
Did he unknowingly suppress?
He said Anna gave him an Italian document he could not fully read.
He forwarded to Alessandro.
He trusted him.
Alessandro then replaced.
So Dad’s negligence enabled.
Maybe not intentional.
Then original will obtained.
Equal thirds.
Land dispute simplified.
Vittorio’s leverage dissolved.
Elena could leave.
Matteo could claim.
Sophia could own.
Then why was I still at estate?
Because story no longer required me.
That realization felt strange.
I could go home.
Back to Boston.
Back to bakery.
Back to normal.
Luca seemed to realize too.
He stood outside later by terrace overlooking lake.
Snow on mountain.
I joined.
“You’re going home,” he said.
Not a question.
“I should.”
He nodded.
No argument.
No “stay.”
That irritated me.
“You could pretend to be disappointed.”
His mouth twitched.
“I am.”
“Oh.”
He looked at lake.
“I just don’t want disappointment to become another reason someone tells you what to do.”
That was perhaps the best thing anyone in either family had said all week.
I leaned on railing.
“Did you actually visit my bakery?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
This time he answered.
“Your mother sent me.”
I froze.
“When?”
Nine years ago.
Before she died.
She came to Italy to see Elena and Matteo? She met Luca.
She worried Sophia felt responsible for Bennett family business after college.
She showed Luca a photograph.
Asked if he ever traveled Boston, check bakery anonymously.
Not protect.
Just see if I was okay.
He did once.
After Mom died.
I had been twenty-two, opening bakery before dawn.
He stood outside after closing because he never entered.
He watched me give unsold bread to shelter volunteer.
Then left.
“You’ve known what I look like for nine years.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me fall into you like an idiot without saying?”
“That happened quickly.”
I laughed.
Then:
“Did you want to marry me?”
He took too long.
Finally:
“I wanted to meet you.”
That was enough.
Then security lights flashed below.
A car rushed through outer gate without clearance.
Marco radioed.
“Signor Moretti, we have a problem.”
Who?
Vittorio’s physician.
He entered breathless.
“Mr. Moretti is gone.”
Gone?
Dead?
No.
His room empty.
IV removed.
Private car missing.
The dying patriarch had fled his own estate.
Why?
Then note on desk:
IF THE BENNETT WILL IS REAL, SOMEONE WILL TRY TO KILL MATTEO AGAIN.
Below:
IT WAS NEVER ME.
Matteo read.
May you like
His face changed.
Then gunshot sounded from the lower courtyard.
