Chapter 4 - THE NAME THAT COULD START A WAR
Adrien left the room.
That scared me more than if he had shouted.
I followed him.
“Stop.”
He kept walking.
“Adrien.”
He turned.
His face had become unreadable.
“Who is my father?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do not lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Nora said Viscari.”
“That does not automatically mean blood.”
“What else could it mean?”
Adrien’s jaw tightened.
“My father gave protected identities to families tied to his organization.”
“So Elena Viscari could be fake.”
“Yes.”
“Could.”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“Do you think Vittorio was my father?”
“No.”
Too fast.
“How do you know?”
“Because my father kept records of his children.”
“Men like your father kept records of affairs?”
“He kept records of everything.”
That almost made me laugh.
Almost.
Adrien returned to Nora.
“What was Lena’s birth name?”
“Elena Viscari.”
“Why?”
“Evelyn told me Vittorio ordered it.”
Adrien’s face hardened.
“Why would he?”
“Because Elena’s father was more dangerous than he was.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who?”
Nora shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“You expect us to believe that?”
“She never told me.”
Adrien leaned forward.
“Then how did Reddick know?”
“He didn’t. Not at first.”
“What changed?”
“Henry Blake found part of Evelyn’s old correspondence.”
Marcus’s father.
Again.
Nora continued.
“One letter mentioned the child’s bloodline could destroy an alliance if revealed.”
I felt sick.
I was not a person to these men.
I was leverage before I knew how to read.
“Whose alliance?”
Nora looked at Adrien.
“Viscari and Moretti.”
Adrien went still.
Even I knew the Moretti name.
Another old New York crime family.
Rivals.
Sometimes partners.
Usually both.
Adrien asked, “Which Moretti?”
“Carlo.”
His face changed.
“Carlo Moretti died twenty years ago.”
“Yes.”
“He had one legitimate son.”
Nora nodded.
“And one illegitimate daughter.”
Silence.
My stomach turned.
“No.”
Nora looked at me.
“Evelyn.”
My mother.
Adrien’s eyes sharpened.
“Evelyn was Carlo Moretti’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
That made me the granddaughter of Carlo Moretti.
A blood connection to one of New York’s most dangerous dynasties.
But not a Viscari.
“Then why give me the Viscari name?”
Nora answered quietly.
“Protection.”
“From whom?”
“Carlo’s son.”
I knew the name before Adrien said it.
“Matteo Moretti.”
Nora nodded.
The current head of the Moretti family.
Adrien’s rival.
My mother’s half-brother.
My uncle.
“If Matteo knew Evelyn had a daughter,” Adrien said, “he might see Lena as a claim.”
“A claim to what?”
No one answered.
I slammed my palm on the table.
“What?”
Adrien finally said, “Carlo’s private trust.”
“How much?”
“Hundreds of millions.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“I teach restoration workshops three nights a week.”
“That doesn’t change blood law inside those families.”
“Then change the law.”
Adrien looked at me.
“I intend to.”
Before I could answer, Marco rushed in.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Moretti men just surrounded the building.”
Adrien’s face became stone.
“How many?”
“Twenty, maybe more.”
Nora swore.
“Too fast.”
Adrien turned to her.
“What?”
“Reddick must have released the identity.”
My heart pounded.
Then every phone in the room vibrated.
A news alert.
Anonymous documents had been sent to multiple reporters.
Headline:
SECRET MORETTI HEIRESS FOUND ALIVE IN MANHATTAN.
My photograph appeared beneath it.
Not current.
Age twelve.
The same picture from Marcus’s apartment.
Then Marco looked at Adrien.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Matteo Moretti is downstairs.”
I stopped breathing.
“He came personally?”
May you like
“Yes.”
“And he says he isn’t leaving without his niece.”
