Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO WANTED MY NAME
Sophia had copies of my passport.
My driver’s license.
My medical insurance card.
Even documents bearing my signature.
Detective Bennett explained it carefully.
Someone had been collecting my information for months.
Maybe longer.
I felt sick.
“She had access to my house.”
Caroline looked at me.
“Because Vincent kept bringing her there.”
I closed my eyes.
That truth hurt.
Every boundary I had asked him to enforce.
Every time he told me I was jealous.
Every time he insisted Sophia was harmless.
He had opened the door himself.
Teresa looked devastated.
“I warned him.”
I turned.
“What?”
She swallowed.
“I told Vincent the Bellinis never forget a debt.”
“What debt?”
Before she answered, the hospital door opened.
Not Vincent.
Arthur Rossi.
Vincent’s oldest friend and attorney.
He looked exhausted.
“Claire.”
I stiffened.
“If you’re here to ask me to forgive him—”
“I’m not.”
That stopped me.
Arthur placed a sealed envelope on the table.
“This was found in Vincent’s private office.”
I stared.
“What is it?”
“An agreement.”
My stomach tightened.
I opened it.
The document described a transfer of controlling interests in several Moretti hotels and casinos.
The beneficiary:
Claire Bennett Moretti.
My hands began shaking.
“Why is this in my name?”
Arthur looked toward Teresa.
Then back at me.
“Vincent’s father structured part of the family trust around his legal spouse.”
I stared.
“If Vincent dies, certain legitimate assets pass to me?”
“Yes.”
“And if we divorce?”
“Some protections remain in place unless formally changed.”
Caroline leaned forward.
“So Sophia wanted Claire’s identity to access the trust?”
Arthur nodded.
“That appears possible.”
I felt nauseated.
This wasn’t only an affair.
Sophia had been positioning herself beside Vincent while collecting my documents.
Then Teresa finally answered my earlier question.
“Victor Bellini believes the Moretti family stole something from him thirty years ago.”
“What?”
“Control.”
She explained that Vincent’s father and Victor once built several businesses together.
Then the partnership collapsed.
Money vanished.
People died.
The Bellinis blamed the Morettis.
The Morettis blamed the Bellinis.
And their children inherited the hatred.
I looked toward the ultrasound monitor.
My child was growing inside a war I had never agreed to join.
Then Arthur’s phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
I asked.
He looked toward me.
“Vincent was attacked outside the hospital.”
My heart stopped.
Despite everything, fear shot through me.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief came before anger.
I hated that.
Then Arthur continued.
“He’s refusing treatment.”
“Of course he is.”
“He says he won’t leave until you’re safe.”
I looked away.
Then Detective Bennett entered with another update.
Sophia’s flight had never left.
The aircraft was empty.
A decoy.
Then she showed me a photograph from hospital surveillance.
Sophia.
Standing in the maternity wing ten minutes earlier.
Wearing scrubs.
My hands went cold.
May you like
And beside her walked a hospital employee carrying my chart.
Sophia wasn’t running away. She was inside the hospital.
