Chapter 3 - THE FATHER BEHIND THE WEDDING
Carlo Rossi entered Ravenwood at 3:18 the next afternoon.
Not through the front door.
Through federal custody.
I had called no one from my family.
I called the U.S. Attorney's Office.
That decision surprised people.
A Moretti inviting federal investigators inside Ravenwood was the kind of event older relatives would consider blasphemy.
I considered it overdue.
Maria sent the photograph from her apartment security camera.
Carlo Rossi.
Sixty-eight.
Older.
Gray beard.
Still recognizably the man from Father's dock photograph.
The image was enough to revive an old financial investigation.
Within twelve hours, authorities located him at a hotel in Connecticut.
He had been living under another name for nearly fifteen years.
When he was brought into the interview room arranged at a federal building in Manhattan, I watched through glass.
He smiled when he saw me.
“Dante Moretti.”
I did not return it.
“Where's Vivien?”
“Which one?”
That irritated me.
“My former fiancée.”
His smile widened.
“So the wedding is off.”
“You sound pleased.”
“I told her marrying you was excessive.”
Cold.
“She married me for access?”
“She didn't marry you.”
“Planned to.”
He shrugged.
“Plans change.”
“What did she want from my safe?”
Carlo leaned back.
“You think this is about money.”
“Usually is.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Identity.”
I waited.
Carlo looked toward the agent.
“I want immunity.”
The prosecutor laughed from behind the glass.
Not happening.
We continued anyway.
Carlo revealed Vivien's real birth name.
Viviana Adrianne Rossi.
Nothing remarkable.
Then:
“Her mother wasn't my wife.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“Lucia Moretti.”
My aunt.
Father's younger sister.
Dead twenty-eight years.
Or supposedly.
“No.”
Carlo smiled.
“Your family loves funerals.”
Enough.
“Vivien is my cousin?”
“Half-cousin.”
My aunt Lucia had an affair with Carlo Rossi.
Vivien was born secretly.
Placed with Carlo's wife publicly.
Raised as Rossi.
Father knew.
Adrian later discovered.
That explained why Father hated the relationship.
Adrian was unknowingly dating his cousin?
No.
They were first cousins once removed? Let's parse: Lucia is Dante/Adrian's aunt, her daughter Vivien is their first cousin. Yes.
My stomach turned.
“Did Adrian know when they were together?”
“Not initially.”
“When did he learn?”
“Six years ago.”
The year everything exploded.
“Did Vivien know?”
Carlo looked amused.
“Since she was eighteen.”
She knew.
She dated Adrian anyway.
Then me.
That was not simple betrayal.
It was calculated.
“What did she want?”
Carlo answered:
“What your aunt Lucia was promised.”
“Which was?”
“Half of Ravenwood.”
I stared.
Father's father—my grandfather—had promised Lucia a significant estate interest.
But when she became involved with Carlo, family conflict followed.
Lucia died young.
Inheritance documents changed.
Her branch disappeared.
Carlo believed deliberately.
“Was Lucia murdered?”
He looked at me.
“You tell me.”
I hated that.
“What happened?”
Lucia died after falling from the terrace at a family villa in Italy.
Officially accident.
I had been six.
I barely remembered.
Carlo claimed she was pushed.
By whom?
My father.
“No.”
“You sound like Adrian.”
“Adrian believed you?”
“Eventually.”
Now the story shifted.
Adrian's disappearance may not have been betrayal.
Maybe he discovered Father killed Lucia.
Maybe Father accused him of betrayal to discredit him.
Carlo continued.
“Your brother learned the truth about Lucia. About Vivien. About Maria.”
“All at once?”
“Enough.”
“What did he plan?”
“To expose your father.”
My chest tightened.
“Did he?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because your father had leverage.”
“What?”
Carlo smiled.
“You.”
I stared.
“Father threatened me?”
“He threatened to make you the target of every enemy Adrian had created.”
That sounded like Father.
He loved through control.
“Adrian left to protect me?”
“Partly.”
“Where has he been?”
Carlo looked at the camera.
“Ask him.”
“I'm asking you.”
“He worked with me.”
That surprised me.
“For six years?”
“Off and on.”
“Doing what?”
“Building a case.”
“Against Father?”
“Against the people around him.”
Which people?
Bankers.
Corporate lawyers.
Old family associates.
A network siphoning legitimate Moretti assets and laundering criminal money through clean companies.
Vivien's role?
Access.
She could enter circles Carlo and Adrian could not.
Then she dated me.
Was that part of investigation?
Carlo smiled.
“That's what she told Adrian.”
My stomach tightened.
“And the truth?”
“She liked you.”
That somehow made things worse.
“So she dated me while sleeping with Adrian?”
“Yes.”
“For three years?”
“More or less.”
“And Adrian accepted that?”
Carlo's smile faded.
“No.”
“Then why continue?”
“Because he needed her.”
A familiar disease.
Use people.
Call it necessity.
“What did she photograph?”
“The succession trust.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian wanted proof Maria existed.”
“Why not ask me?”
Carlo laughed.
“Would you have believed him?”
Maybe not.
Six years of believing him a traitor.
Probably not.
Then the missing envelope.
“What did Father write to me?”
Carlo went quiet.
He knew.
“What was in the envelope?”
He looked toward the table.
“Your father's confession.”
My blood ran cold.
“About Lucia?”
“Yes.”
“Maria?”
“Yes.”
“Adrian?”
“Yes.”
“Why did Vivien burn it?”
Carlo smiled sadly.
“Because it also named her.”
“As what?”
“Your father's accomplice.”
Everything stopped.
“Vivien helped Father?”
“Six years ago.”
The night of the stroke.
Vivien had been there.
She found Father after Adrian left.
According to Carlo, Father asked her to retrieve medication.
She did.
Then something happened.
“What?”
Carlo leaned forward.
“Your father didn't suffer a natural stroke.”
My chest tightened.
“He was poisoned.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“By who?”
“Vivien.”
Silence.
I stared through him.
Carlo continued.
“Not intentionally.”
That mattered.
“How do you accidentally poison someone?”
“She gave him pills from the wrong bottle.”
“Whose bottle?”
“Adrian's.”
I frowned.
Adrian took no regular medication.
“Carlo.”
“They weren't medicine.”
“What?”
“Sedatives.”
Why would Adrian have sedatives?
Carlo said he carried them because he planned to drug Father temporarily, force access to documents, then leave.
I stood.
“Adrian planned to drug our father?”
“Yes.”
“And Vivien gave Father the dose?”
“Thinking it was his blood-pressure medication.”
“That's absurd.”
“Maybe.”
“You don't believe it.”
“No.”
“What do you believe?”
Carlo looked directly at me.
“I believe Vivien knew exactly what she was doing.”
The room felt colder.
“If she poisoned Father, why help Adrian afterward?”
“Because Father survived.”
Leverage.
If Father ever regained speech, Vivien could be exposed.
So she needed Adrian gone and Dante controlled.
Marrying me accomplished that.
But then why keep sleeping with Adrian?
Carlo's answer:
“Because she didn't know which brother would win.”
That was Vivien.
Not love.
Hedging.
I almost admired the ruthlessness.
Almost.
Then the prosecutor entered.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Vivien Rossi's apartment is empty.”
Of course.
“Adrian?”
“Unknown.”
Then my phone rang.
Maria.
I answered.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
Emma was crying in the background.
“What happened?”
“Someone broke into the apartment.”
My pulse jumped.
“Are you hurt?”
“No. We were downstairs with police.”
“What was taken?”
“The waiver.”
I looked at Bell.
Evidence.
“And?”
Maria hesitated.
“Emma's birth certificate.”
That made no sense.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Then Emma's small voice came through.
“Uncle Dante?”
My chest tightened at the word.
She had never called me that before.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“The bad lady took my fox.”
I froze.
Her stuffed fox.
Why?
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Why would she take your fox?”
Emma started crying harder.
“Grandma put something inside.”
Maria went silent.
“What?”
Emma sniffed.
“Grandma Angela.”
Angela Carter.
Maria's mother.
Dead five years.
“What did she put inside?”
Emma whispered:
“A little key.”
Bell and I looked at each other.
Another key.
Of course.
Maria came back on the phone.
“I thought Emma was imagining it.”
“When did Angela give her the fox?”
“Before she died.”
“What key?”
“I never saw it.”
But Vivien knew.
How?
Because Angela knew Father.
Maybe she knew Lucia.
Maybe she kept evidence.
The fox.
A key.
To what?
Carlo heard through speaker.
His face changed.
I saw it.
“You know.”
He looked away.
“What does the key open?”
Silence.
“Carlo.”
He finally answered.
“Lucia's vault.”
My pulse stopped.
May you like
“Where?”
“Beneath Ravenwood.”
