Chapter 6 - THE SISTER WHO DIDN'T EXIST
Adrian had never once mentioned Elena Moretti.
Not in five years of marriage.
Not during family holidays.
Not when Victor died.
Not when I spent three weeks helping catalog family photographs for the memorial.
Yet Elena appeared in court records with a birth certificate, childhood medical records, and DNA documentation establishing Victor Moretti as her father.
Thirty-four years old.
Born in Boston.
Mother: Isabella Romano.
I called Daniel.
This time he answered immediately.
“You found Elena.”
“That is an interesting way to describe discovering my husband has a sister.”
Daniel sighed.
“Adrian knows.”
“Of course he does.”
“He found out when he was twenty-two.”
“And decided I didn’t need to know.”
“Elena wanted no relationship with the family.”
“Then why is she claiming my shares?”
“I don’t know.”
Rebecca arranged a meeting.
Elena chose a hotel near San Francisco.
She looked nothing like Adrian.
Blond hair.
Gray eyes.
Elegant but severe.
The resemblance appeared only when she became angry.
“I don’t want your money,” she told me.
“Then why file?”
“Because Carlo is trying to use me.”
That was becoming a theme.
Elena explained that Victor had supported her secretly for years.
He had loved Isabella before marrying Adrian’s mother.
But Victor never publicly acknowledged Elena because the Moretti family considered her existence a scandal.
“I hated him for that,” she said.
“Did Adrian hate you?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“He tried to know me.”
“What happened?”
“I refused.”
“Why?”
“Because every Moretti man I had ever met turned affection into ownership.”
I thought of Sophia.
Then myself.
Elena leaned forward.
“Victor contacted me before he died. He said he was reorganizing the company.”
“Did he mention me?”
“Yes.”
My heart beat faster.
“What did he say?”
“That Adrian’s wife had given up too much of herself.”
I looked away.
Victor had seen it.
Before I had.
“He said your shares were not a gift.”
“Then what were they?”
“A safeguard.”
“For the company?”
“For you.”
I frowned.
Elena explained that Victor had researched my academic career.
My abandoned doctorate.
My father.
My lack of independent income after marriage.
He believed Adrian loved me.
But Victor understood his son.
“He told me Adrian could become the kind of husband who mistakes dependence for devotion.”
My throat tightened.
Victor had been dead three years and somehow understood my marriage better than I had.
“Why challenge the trust?”
“To force disclosure.”
“Of what?”
“Carlo’s attorneys have been hiding documents behind estate privilege.”
“And filing gets them opened.”
“Yes.”
“Why help me?”
Elena’s expression softened.
“Because I know what it feels like to disappear inside a Moretti man’s decisions.”
Before we separated, Elena gave me an envelope Victor had sent her.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Claire,
If you ever read this, then my son has probably disappointed me in exactly the way I feared.
Do not save Adrian from consequences simply because you love him.
Love without consequence becomes permission.
I read that line three times.
At the bottom Victor had added:
There is a second trust Adrian does not know about.
Ask Daniel about Project Orion.
I called Daniel from the hotel lobby.
He went silent when I said the words.
“Project Orion.”
“How do you know that name?”
“Victor.”
Daniel swore quietly.
“What is it?”
“A foundation.”
“What kind?”
“Scientific research.”
My breath caught.
“Why?”
“Victor created it after you married Adrian.”
“For what?”
Daniel hesitated.
Then:
“For you.”
I sat down.
“There’s approximately twelve million dollars in it.”
I could barely process the number.
“But that isn’t the part Adrian can’t know.”
“What is?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Project Orion owns the patent rights to the astronomical model you developed at Stanford.”
My heart stopped.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
“How did Victor get them?”
“He didn’t.”
May you like
Daniel paused.
“Adrian did.”
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