The Fatherās Driver
Chapter 05 - The Fatherās Driver
Luca's father lived on the north side of the estate in a stone guesthouse everyone called the old wing, though there was nothing old about the men guarding it.
Salvatore Moretti had survived two heart attacks, three federal investigations, and one assassination attempt that left a silver-handled cane in his right hand. I had seen him only twice in eleven months, both times from a distance.
He had the kind of face people lowered their voices around.
At 11:47 that night, Luca crossed the lawn toward the old wing with rain slipping from his coat and his mother's photograph folded in his fist.
I should not have been with him.
I knew that.
Mrs. Carter had told me to go rest. Dr. Harris had told me to keep my shoulder dry. Marco had looked at Luca as if bringing a maid into family business was a mistake that might get all of us killed.
But Bruno would not leave me.
The old dog limped at my side, slow but determined, and each time Luca glanced back, Bruno stopped too.
"He trusts her," Luca said finally.
That ended the argument.
The old wing smelled of pipe tobacco, lemon oil, and expensive regret. Salvatore's driver, Paolo, was not at his post near the door.
That alone made Luca's expression sharpen.
A young guard opened the study, saw Luca's face, and stepped aside without a word.
Salvatore Moretti sat near the fire in a burgundy robe, a blanket over his knees, his silver cane across his lap.
He did not look surprised.
That frightened me more than if he had.
"You found the chapel room," Salvatore said.
Luca closed the door behind us.
"You knew about it."
"Your mother had many hiding places."
"Did you help Vanessa empty the safe?"
Salvatore's eyes moved to me.
"Why is the maid here?"
"Because the maid saved Bruno."
His gaze dropped to the dog.
For the first time, something like tenderness softened his face.
"Bruno. You stubborn old bastard."
Bruno gave a tired thump of his tail.
Then Salvatore looked at my bandaged shoulder.
"And what happened to her?"
"Vanessa happened."
The old man's jaw tightened.
"Sit down, Luca."
"No."
"Then stand and be stupid. It changes nothing."
Luca unfolded the photograph and placed it on the table between them.
"Why is Vanessa in our garden twelve years ago?"
Salvatore looked at the picture.
He did not touch it.
"Because her mother brought her here."
"I met Vanessa four years ago."
"You were told that."
A log cracked in the fireplace.
I felt Bruno lean against my leg.
Luca's voice became very quiet.
"Start talking."
Salvatore leaned back, and for the first time I saw the exhaustion under his authority.
"Before you were old enough to inherit anything, your mother discovered that Bellini money was moving through our charity accounts. Not much at first. Small donations. Foundation transfers. Clean money over dirty money. She traced it back to a man named Aldo Bellini. Vanessa's father."
"What did she do?"
"She confronted me."
"And?"
"And I told her to leave it alone."
Luca's eyes went flat.
"Of course you did."
Salvatore's cane tapped once against the floor.
"Don't look at me with the morality of a man who has never made a compromise. You inherited a city because I survived long enough to give it to you."
"My mother wrote that you lied about the girl in the garden."
Salvatore looked at the photograph again.
"Vanessa wasn't the girl she meant."
The words landed strangely.
Luca frowned.
"Who was?"
The old man looked at me.
Not casually.
Not dismissively.
As if, for the first time, my face meant something to him.
"What is your name?"
"Emma Collins."
"Your mother's name?"
My throat tightened.
"Margaret Collins."
Salvatore closed his eyes.
Luca turned slowly toward me.
"What?"
"Her mother's name was Margaret Hale," Salvatore said. "Before she married."
I felt the room tilt.
"How do you know that?"
Salvatore opened his eyes.
"Because your mother worked in this house for one summer when she was nineteen."
I shook my head.
"No. My mother was a waitress. Then a home health aide. She neverā"
"She worked here," Salvatore said. "For Isabella. In the garden house."
Luca stepped closer to the table.
"Why did she leave?"
The old man's face hardened with memory.
"Because she saw something she should not have seen."
My hands went numb.
Bruno whined.
"What did she see?" Luca asked.
Salvatore did not answer quickly.
Men like him measured truth the way other men measured poison.
"Aldo Bellini meeting with Paolo at the conservatory. Money changed hands. Documents too. Your mother confronted them. Margaret witnessed it. Isabella sent the girl away the next morning with enough cash to start over and instructions never to return."
I gripped the back of a chair.
"My mother told me my father gambled away her savings. She said we moved because of him."
"Maybe that was easier to tell a child."
Luca looked at Salvatore.
"Where is Paolo now?"
"Gone, apparently."
"With Vanessa."
"So Daniel said."
Luca's control cracked for half a second.
"You knew Paolo was Bellini's man?"
"I suspected."
"And kept him driving for you?"
"Better a snake in a glass box than in the grass."
"He just drove Vanessa out of my house with my mother's journals."
Salvatore looked toward the rain-dark window.
"Then the glass box broke."
The old man's calm made Luca look more furious, not less.
"What is in those journals?"
"Names. Payments. Meetings. Maybe enough to expose half the peace your engagement was supposed to secure."
"You let me get engaged to her."
Salvatore's mouth tightened.
"I told you Bellini alliances rot from the inside. You called me old."
"You didn't tell me she knew my mother."
"I promised Isabella I would not speak of it unless the past returned."
Luca laughed once, without humor.
"It returned wearing an engagement ring."
Then my phone vibrated in the pocket of my borrowed sweater.
Unknown number.
I ignored it.
It rang again.
Luca looked at me.
"Answer."
I did.
"Hello?"
For a moment, there was only breathing.
Then my mother's voice came through, thin and terrified.
"Emma? Honey, there are men outside the building. They say Luca Moretti sent them."
My heart lurched.
"Mom, it's okay. They're there to protect you."
"No," she whispered. "Not them. Another man came first. He said to tell you Bruno wasn't the only thing Vanessa can make disappear."
The line crackled.
"Mom?"
Luca was already reaching for the phone.
But before I could hand it to him, my mother said one more thing.
"Emma, he knew my old name."
Then the call cut off.
I stared at the dead screen.
May you like
Across the room, Salvatore Moretti slowly rose with the help of his cane.
"If they know Margaret is alive," he said, "they'll come for what she remembers."
