Chapter 8 - THE NAME EMMA NEVER KNEW
Emma had spent twenty-nine years believing she was born Emma Carter.
At 9:16 the next morning, Dominic told her that might not be true.
She nearly hung up.
Then he sent the document.
Original name: Emma Lucia Moretti.
Emma stared at it.
“No.”
Hannah read over her shoulder.
“Could it be fake?”
“With this family? Anything could be.”
Emma called the attorney who handled her adoption.
Retired.
Disconnected number.
Then she called the county clerk.
The record existed.
Sealed.
But Dominic’s file contained details that matched.
Birth hospital.
Birth date.
Original mother:
Elena Moretti.
Emma had never heard the name.
Original father:
Unknown.
Her adoptive parents had told her they adopted her privately when she was six months old.
They never mentioned the biological family.
Both had died before Emma turned twenty-five.
She had never investigated.
Why would she?
Now every part of her life felt engineered.
Dominic arrived at Hannah’s building two hours later.
Emma almost refused to let him up.
Then she decided she wanted to see his face while he explained.
When the door opened, Dominic stopped.
He looked different.
Exhausted.
Unshaven.
No hearing aids.
Emma noticed immediately.
For years, seeing him without them meant silence.
Now he heard everything.
Her anger.
Her breathing.
The refrigerator humming.
All of it.
He stepped inside.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t.”
He nodded.
Hannah remained in the kitchen.
Dominic placed a file on the table.
“Your biological mother, Elena, was Luca Bellini’s younger sister.”
Emma stared.
“That would make—”
“Yes.”
“If Luca was your biological father…”
“She was my aunt.”
Emma stepped back.
“Dominic.”
His face went pale.
“I know.”
“We’re related.”
“Possibly.”
“Possibly?”
“The record could be manipulated.”
Emma covered her mouth.
She was pregnant.
With his child.
Dominic immediately understood what she was thinking.
“Emma.”
“Don’t touch me.”
He stopped.
“We need genetic testing.”
Her eyes filled.
“What if it’s true?”
Dominic had no answer.
The marriage suddenly looked horrifying.
Margaret knew.
Had she known all along?
Had she arranged their marriage despite a blood relationship?
Or because of it?
Dominic said quietly, “My mother introduced us.”
Emma remembered.
A charity dinner.
Margaret seated Dominic beside her.
Called Emma “exactly the calming influence Dominic needs.”
Emma had thought it romantic.
Now it looked planned.
“Why would she do that?”
Dominic opened another document.
“Bellini assets.”
Emma stared.
“If you are Elena’s daughter, you may have a claim to part of Luca’s estate.”
“And you?”
“As Luca’s son, so do I.”
Emma understood slowly.
Their marriage consolidated two Bellini bloodlines.
Margaret had not wanted children?
Maybe she had wanted exactly one.
One child carrying both claims.
Emma felt sick.
“She arranged us.”
“I think so.”
“And sabotaged fertility until…”
Dominic stopped.
“Until what?”
His face changed.
“Until she controlled timing.”
Emma looked toward the ultrasound.
A terrible idea formed.
“What if the medication she gave me stopped?”
Dominic went still.
“Why would it stop?”
Emma thought back.
Three months earlier, Margaret had insisted Emma switch pharmacies.
Two months earlier, her migraine medication changed.
One month later, Emma became pregnant.
She whispered, “She wanted this baby.”
Dominic stared.
If Margaret wanted an heir under the trust, Emma’s pregnancy was not an accident.
It was the final stage of a plan.
Emma sat down.
“I need to know if we’re related.”
Dominic nodded.
“We test today.”
They used an independent lab.
No Moretti insurance.
No family doctors.
Blood samples.
Results expedited.
Forty-eight hours.
Those forty-eight hours were torture.
Dominic stayed at a nearby hotel.
He did not ask to stay with Emma.
He did not ask her to forgive him.
He sent one message each morning.
Are you safe?
She replied yes.
Nothing more.
On the second evening, the lab called early.
Emma answered with Dominic on speaker.
The genetic counselor spoke carefully.
“You are biologically related.”
Emma’s hand went cold.
Dominic closed his eyes.
Then the counselor continued.
“But not in the way you feared.”
Emma looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“You share maternal ancestry, but the relationship is much more distant than the records suggest.”
Dominic frowned.
“How distant?”
“Approximately fourth cousins or farther.”
Emma stared.
“The adoption record says Elena Moretti was my mother.”
“Yes.”
“That record is false.”
The counselor agreed.
Emma felt relief and anger at once.
“So who is my mother?”
“We can’t determine that from this test alone.”
But the test had revealed something else.
The counselor hesitated.
“Mr. Moretti, your DNA shows a first-degree biological relationship to another sample in our criminal archive.”
Dominic froze.
“What sample?”
“I can’t legally identify the individual.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“But someone alive?”
“Yes.”
Emma watched him.
Then the counselor added:
“The person is not Luca Bellini.”
May you like
Dominic stared at the phone.
Everything Vincent’s letter claimed might be another lie.
