Chapter 12 - THE WIFE ROMAN NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT
Roman Moretti had been married before.
I knew that.
Or at least, I thought I knew the story.
His first wife, Gabriella, had died in a boating accident eight years earlier.
Roman rarely discussed her.
He told me their marriage had been difficult.
That grief made him more cautious.
That he didn't want to live in the past.
Now Caroline was telling investigators that Gabriella's death hadn't been an accident.
And that Victor Bellini was responsible.
I sat across from Caroline in a private interview room.
She looked as nervous as I felt.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she smiled sadly.
“You have my eyes.”
Tears filled mine.
“You have my smile.”
We both laughed through tears.
It was strange.
Finding a mother at twenty-eight.
Trying to understand how love could exist between strangers connected by blood.
Caroline didn't demand a hug.
Didn't ask me to call her Mom.
She simply said:
“I've waited a long time to meet you. We can take this slowly.”
That made me cry harder.
Then she explained what happened eight years earlier.
She had worked as a nurse for a private medical service connected to the Moretti family.
Gabriella came to her after discovering suspicious financial transactions.
She was frightened.
Pregnant.
And planning to leave Roman.
My heart stopped.
“Pregnant?”
Caroline nodded.
I stared at her.
“Roman never told me.”
“She didn't tell him either.”
My stomach tightened.
Then Caroline continued.
“Gabriella believed Victor would hurt the baby if he discovered the pregnancy.”
I covered my mouth.
“What happened?”
“She disappeared while traveling to meet an attorney.”
I swallowed.
“The boating accident?”
“Staged.”
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Another woman.
Another false death.
Another child possibly missing.
Caroline looked toward the table.
“I helped Gabriella obtain medical care under another identity.”
My heart raced.
“Then she survived?”
Caroline nodded.
“For a time.”
“What happened to her?”
“She gave birth.”
My breath stopped.
Then Caroline whispered:
“A little boy.”
I stared.
Roman had a son.
A child he'd never known existed.
My hands began shaking.
“Where is he?”
Caroline looked toward the window.
“He was placed with a family outside New York.”
I swallowed.
“Is he alive?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
Then Detective Bennett entered.
She carried a file.
“Caroline, we verified the child's records.”
Caroline began crying.
The detective turned toward me.
“Nora, the boy's name is Gabriel.”
I stared.
“How old?”
“Seven.”
Then she showed me a photograph.
A smiling little boy with dark hair and gray eyes.
Roman's eyes.
Roman's smile.
Roman's son.
And beneath the photograph was a handwritten note.
Tell Roman when it's safe.
I covered my mouth.
May you like
Because suddenly I understood the terrible truth.
Roman Moretti had spent eight years mourning a wife who might still be alive—and seven years unknowingly living without his son.
