Chapter 7 - THE MAN WHO WANTED TO MARRY ME FOR A SECRET
Andrew Keller hadn't wanted to marry me because he loved me.
He wanted access to my family.
My inheritance.
And possibly my sister.
I sat beside Luca in the bank's private conference room, staring at Andrew's signature on Grace's transfer authorization.
My stomach churned.
For two years, Andrew had pretended to adore me.
He'd brought flowers.
Planned vacations.
Chosen dresses.
Told me I was the only woman he could ever love.
Now I wondered whether every romantic gesture had been another step toward controlling something I didn't know existed.
"Why would Andrew sign paperwork for my sister?" I asked.
Luca looked grim.
"Because he had influence over your father's private accounts."
I shook my head.
"That doesn't give him authority over a child."
"You're right."
Rebecca reviewed the document.
"The authorization may be invalid. We need to determine who held legal guardianship."
I looked down.
Grace.
Eleven years old.
Somewhere in the world.
Possibly believing she had no family.
And I'd spent the previous decade thinking I was alone.
My eyes burned.
"We have to find her."
Luca nodded.
"We will."
I looked at him.
"Together?"
His expression softened.
"If that's what you want."
I swallowed.
"Yes."
He didn't smile triumphantly.
Didn't reach for me.
He simply nodded.
"Then together."
That evening, we returned to the Moretti estate.
The mansion seemed different now.
Not because the walls had changed.
Because I had.
I'd spent my entire life feeling small inside beautiful rooms.
Now I was beginning to understand that the size of a house had nothing to do with the freedom of the people living inside it.
I walked toward the kitchen.
Luca followed at a respectful distance.
"Ellie?"
I turned.
"Yes?"
"Would you like dinner?"
I almost laughed.
"That's your question?"
He shrugged.
"You haven't eaten since breakfast."
I looked at him.
Then smiled faintly.
"Something simple."
"Like?"
"Grilled cheese."
He blinked.
"Grilled cheese?"
"Is that beneath the Moretti kitchen?"
His mouth curved.
"Absolutely not."
Twenty minutes later, we sat at the kitchen island eating grilled-cheese sandwiches.
No crystal chandeliers.
No guests.
No business negotiations.
Just melted cheese, warm bread, and two exhausted people trying to understand what had happened to their families.
For the first time since our wedding, I felt comfortable beside him.
Then Luca's phone rang.
His expression changed.
"What?"
He listened.
Then stood.
"Where?"
A pause.
He looked toward me.
"Is she safe?"
My heart stopped.
When he ended the call, I was already standing.
"Grace?"
Luca nodded.
"They found her."
I nearly collapsed.
"Where?"
"At a private boarding school outside Milwaukee."
I covered my mouth.
"Is she okay?"
"She's alive."
Tears filled my eyes.
Then Luca continued.
"Ellie, there's something else."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"The school records list a legal guardian."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
Luca swallowed.
"Your father."
May you like
I stared.
"But the school has been told you're dead."
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