Chapter 6 - THE DAY MY FATHER CHOSE HER
“What did she do?”
The question came from me.
Alina looked equally confused.
Evelyn was silent for several seconds.
Then:
“Do you remember the Hartwell scholarship reception eight years ago?”
Alina frowned.
“Barely.”
“You were twenty-four.”
“I remember Dad making me attend.”
“There was a waiter there. Older man. He dropped an entire tray of champagne glasses.”
Alina's expression changed.
“I remember.”
I watched her.
“What happened?”
She looked embarrassed.
“Nothing important.”
Evelyn laughed softly through her tears.
“It was important to Vittorio Moretti.”
Alina turned toward me.
“The waiter fell. Everyone stared. One donor started yelling because wine spilled on his suit.”
“And you?”
“I helped him.”
Of course she did.
She said it like that was nothing.
“I found towels. Made sure he hadn't cut himself. Told the donor he could survive a stained jacket.”
Luca actually smiled.
“That sounds like you.”
Evelyn continued.
“Your father introduced you to Vittorio afterward. You didn't know who he was.”
Alina's eyes widened.
“The gray-haired man near the terrace?”
“Yes.”
She remembered.
I could see it.
“He asked me whether I always argued with rich men.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Alina looked at me.
“He thought it was funny.”
“That sounds like my father.”
Evelyn's voice softened.
“Two months later, Vittorio told your father that Dante would spend his whole life surrounded by people afraid to tell him the truth.”
My chest tightened.
“He said he wanted his son to marry someone who would still tell him when he was wrong.”
Alina looked at me.
I couldn't read her expression.
Evelyn continued.
“But there was another reason.”
The warmth vanished.
“What?” I asked.
“Vittorio suspected Caterina.”
My mother's name landed like a stone.
“He never proved anything,” Evelyn said quickly. “But he believed some of the missing money led through accounts she controlled.”
Luca stood.
“No.”
“I'm sorry.”
“No. Father adored Mother.”
“He also feared her.”
Luca stared at the floor.
I thought back through childhood.
Closed-door arguments.
Sudden transfers of executives.
My father's insistence that I learn every side of the business personally.
His warning shortly before he died:
Never let anyone love the name more than they love you.
I'd assumed it was about opportunists.
Maybe it wasn't.
“Why didn't you tell us sooner?” Alina asked.
“Because your father made me promise.”
“And after he died?”
Evelyn's voice cracked.
“I was afraid.”
“Of Caterina?”
“Yes.”
Then a loud sound exploded through the phone.
Glass breaking.
Alina stood.
“Mom?”
No answer.
“Mom?”
A muffled voice.
Then the line went dead.
Alina went white.
I grabbed my jacket.
Luca headed for the door.
But my phone rang before we reached it.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice said:
“Mr. Moretti, if you want Evelyn Hartwell alive, bring me the original marriage contract.”
I stopped cold.
“Who are you?”
The man laughed.
May you like
Then answered:
“The person your father was trying to protect you from.”
