Chapter 8 — The Woman Who Knew the Truth
Chapter 8 — The Woman Who Knew the Truth
The little girl standing beside Lorenzo was not Emma.
But she looked enough like my daughter to make my heart stop.
The same dark curls.
The same small nose.
The same solemn expression.
Only her eyes were different.
Green.
She stared at Alessandro as though she had known him all her life.
“Daddy?”
Alessandro didn't move.
I couldn't either.
Lorenzo smiled.
“You wanted the truth.”
Alessandro's voice was barely audible.
“Where is Emma?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“You're looking at the wrong child.”
I stepped forward.
“Give me my daughter.”
Lorenzo's eyes moved toward me.
“You still don't understand, Anna.”
“I understand that you took a three-year-old girl.”
“I saved her.”
“You kidnapped her.”
He smiled.
“Words.”
Alessandro raised his weapon.
“Put her down.”
Lorenzo laughed.
“You won't shoot.”
“You don't know me.”
“I know you better than anyone.”
The little girl clung to Lorenzo's coat.
He looked down at her.
“Eva.”
She looked up.
“Say hello.”
“Hello.”
Her voice was soft.
My heart cracked.
I looked at my mother.
She was crying.
“That's her,” she whispered.
“Eva.”
My mother nodded.
I stared at the child.
My sister.
My mother's daughter.
And potentially Alessandro's daughter.
A child who had spent three years hidden from the world.
“Why did you keep her?”
Lorenzo answered:
“Because she is the key.”
“To what?”
“The Moretti Trust.”
Alessandro's expression hardened.
“You're still obsessed with that.”
“No.”
Lorenzo looked at Eva.
“I'm obsessed with survival.”
The church doors opened behind us.
Men emerged from the shadows.
Guns.
At least ten.
Michael whispered:
“We're surrounded.”
Alessandro didn't look away from Lorenzo.
“How many exits?”
“Two.”
“Which one is clear?”
“Neither.”
Lorenzo smiled.
“You should have listened to your brother.”
Michael's jaw tightened.
“You've been running for twenty years.”
“And you survived twenty years because I allowed it.”
Michael stepped forward.
“You killed our mother.”
Lorenzo's face changed.
“She chose her side.”
“You poisoned her.”
“She betrayed me.”
Alessandro looked at Michael.
“What is he talking about?”
Michael's eyes remained on Lorenzo.
“Our mother discovered what Father had done.”
“What?”
“The trust.”
Michael pointed toward Eva.
“She found out the family had been manufacturing heirs.”
I frowned.
“What?”
Michael continued.
“Lorenzo believed bloodline could be engineered.”
My stomach turned.
“He used doctors.”
“Yes.”
“Embryos.”
“Yes.”
“Children.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Eva.
The little girl was watching us.
She had no idea that adults had spent three years treating her existence like a financial weapon.
I felt sick.
“What happened to the other children?”
Michael looked away.
“Most didn't survive.”
The world went silent.
Alessandro stared at his father.
“How many?”
Lorenzo answered.
“Seven.”
I covered my mouth.
“Seven?”
“Failed experiments.”
Michael's voice shook.
“Children.”
Lorenzo's expression remained cold.
“Sacrifices.”
Alessandro's eyes became murderous.
“You call children sacrifices?”
“They were never supposed to live.”
Alessandro raised his gun.
I grabbed his arm.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“He killed children.”
“I know.”
“Then why stop me?”
“Because Eva is standing beside him.”
He looked toward the little girl.
His weapon lowered slightly.
Lorenzo smiled.
“Exactly.”
My mother suddenly stepped forward.
“Lorenzo.”
He looked at her.
“You've had enough.”
He laughed.
“You don't get to decide that.”
“I know what you did.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know about the clinic.”
His smile disappeared.
“I know about the embryos.”
Silence.
“I know you ordered the records destroyed.”
“Yes.”
“I know you changed the DNA reports.”
“Yes.”
“And I know you killed the doctors who refused to cooperate.”
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
“Careful.”
My mother continued.
“I also know where the original records are.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“What?”
My mother reached inside her coat.
She pulled out a small metal key.
Lorenzo's face changed.
For the first time, genuine fear appeared in his eyes.
Michael whispered:
“Mom…”
She looked at Alessandro.
“The truth isn't in the trust.”
She held up the key.
“It's in the laboratory.”
Lorenzo raised his weapon.
“Give me the key.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
“Where is it?”
“Somewhere you never looked.”
He stepped toward her.
Alessandro moved between them.
“Touch her and you'll never leave this church.”
Lorenzo laughed.
“You still think you're in control.”
Then a gunshot exploded.
Everyone ducked.
Michael fired toward the ceiling.
Chaos erupted.
Men scattered.
Alessandro grabbed my arm.
“Get Eva!”
I ran.
Eva was frozen beside Lorenzo.
I reached her.
“Come with me.”
She looked terrified.
“Daddy said not to.”
“I'm not going to hurt you.”
She shook her head.
“Daddy said everyone lies.”
I looked toward Lorenzo.
“Your father is lying.”
Eva looked at me.
“How do you know?”
“Because I'm your sister's mother.”
She frowned.
“Emma?”
“Yes.”
“Is she nice?”
I smiled through tears.
“She is.”
Eva took my hand.
“Then I want to meet her.”
I pulled her behind me.
A bullet struck the stone wall.
Lorenzo shouted:
“Anna!”
I turned.
His weapon was aimed directly at Eva.
Alessandro fired.
Lorenzo disappeared behind a pillar.
Michael grabbed Eva.
“Move!”
We ran.
The escape tunnel beneath the church was barely wide enough for two people.
Michael led.
I carried Eva.
Alessandro followed.
Daniel came behind him.
Gunfire echoed above us.
“Where does this lead?” I asked.
“Old railway tunnel.”
“Then what?”
“A safe house.”
Eva pressed her face against my shoulder.
“Is Daddy coming?”
I looked at Alessandro.
He nodded.
“Yes.”
She smiled.
For some reason, the word hurt.
She had spent three years believing Lorenzo was her father.
Now she was looking at Alessandro.
And somehow, despite everything, she already seemed to trust him.
Maybe children didn't understand blood.
Maybe they understood safety.
The safe house belonged to Michael.
It was a small cabin beside a frozen lake.
Emma was already there.
When the door opened, she looked up.
“Mama!”
She ran into my arms.
I dropped to my knees and hugged her.
“Emma.”
“You found me.”
“Yes.”
“I was scared.”
“I know.”
She looked at Eva.
“Who is she?”
I wiped my tears.
“This is Eva.”
Emma stared.
Eva stared back.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Emma held out Mr. Rabbit.
“Do you like him?”
Eva nodded.
Emma smiled.
“You can have him.”
Eva took the rabbit.
And just like that, the two children sat together.
Alessandro stood in the doorway.
He couldn't look away.
Daniel watched him.
“You okay?”
“No.”
Daniel nodded.
“Me neither.”
For the first time, the two men looked at each other without hostility.
They were looking at the same thing.
Two little girls.
Two lives stolen from them.
Daniel whispered:
“Maybe we can fix this.”
Alessandro looked at him.
“Together?”
Daniel nodded.
“Together.”
My mother called me into another room.
She closed the door.
I could see the exhaustion in her face.
“There's something else.”
I didn't want to hear it.
“Mom.”
“You deserve to know.”
“You've said that before.”
“I know.”
She sat down.
“The night Emma was born, there were complications.”
I frowned.
“What kind?”
“You lost a dangerous amount of blood.”
“I remember.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You don't remember everything.”
“What don't I remember?”
She looked at me.
“You were unconscious for eleven hours.”
My stomach tightened.
“During that time, Lorenzo took control of the hospital.”
“What?”
“He ordered the doctors to transfer the embryos.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to create the perfect heir.”
I felt sick.
“Emma was born naturally.”
“Yes.”
“But Eva?”
“She was born through another woman.”
“Who?”
My mother hesitated.
Then said:
“Margaret Moretti.”
I froze.
“Lorenzo's wife?”
“Yes.”
I couldn't breathe.
“She carried Eva?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did she disappear?”
My mother looked toward the door.
“Because Margaret tried to expose him.”
“Where is she?”
My mother whispered:
“Dead.”
I closed my eyes.
Everything was connected.
The trust.
The embryos.
The children.
My family.
The Morettis.
And Margaret had apparently been the one person who tried to stop it.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Margaret gave me a warning.”
“What warning?”
My mother looked directly into my eyes.
“She told me that one day Lorenzo would come for you.”
“And?”
“She told me not to trust Alessandro.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
My mother hesitated.
“Because Alessandro wasn't the only son Lorenzo raised.”
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
She whispered:
“Lorenzo trained Michael to protect the family.”
“But Alessandro?”
“He trained Alessandro to rule it.”
I didn't understand.
“What's the difference?”
My mother looked frightened.
“Michael was taught how to kill.”
She paused.
“Alessandro was taught how to become a king.”
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I found Alessandro outside.
He sat alone on the porch.
Snow covered the railing.
I sat beside him.
“Emma and Eva are sleeping.”
“Good.”
“Michael is watching them.”
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“My mother says you were raised to become a king.”
He smiled bitterly.
“She exaggerates.”
“Does she?”
He looked toward the lake.
“My father taught me that weakness gets people killed.”
“Were you weak?”
“I was eight.”
I looked at him.
He continued:
“I remember Michael disappearing.”
“You do?”
“Fragments.”
“What kind?”
“A door closing.”
“A car.”
“My mother's voice.”
He swallowed.
“And my father telling me never to ask about my brother again.”
I took his hand.
He looked at me.
“I don't want to become him.”
“You won't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you saved Emma.”
He looked toward the cabin.
“And Eva.”
“Yes.”
He was quiet.
Then he asked:
“Anna.”
“Yes?”
“Do you regret coming to this house?”
I thought about the cookie.
The wheelchair.
The first time Emma had called him Daddy.
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Even now?”
“Especially now.”
He squeezed my hand.
Then the cabin lights went out.
Both of us froze.
A scream came from inside.
Emma.
We ran.
The door was open.
Michael was on the floor.
Daniel was bleeding from his shoulder.
The room was empty.
The children were gone.
My heart stopped.
“Emma!”
No answer.
“Eva!”
Nothing.
Then I saw the note on the table.
Alessandro picked it up.
His face changed.
I read it over his shoulder.
ONE CHILD WILL RULE.
ONE CHILD WILL DIE.
YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT TO CHOOSE.
Below the message was a photograph.
Two girls.
One sleeping.
One crying.
And beneath them:
THE LABORATORY KNOWS WHICH ONE IS THE ORIGINAL.
My mother walked into the room.
She saw the photograph.
Her face went white.
“No.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
She whispered:
“The laboratory wasn't destroyed.”
“Where is it?”
She looked at Alessandro.
Then at me.
And finally said:
“Under the Moretti estate.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“You're telling me the laboratory has been beneath my house this entire time?”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the dark forest.
“Then that's where we're going.”
My mother shook her head.
“You don't understand.”
“What?”
She pointed at the photograph.
“The laboratory isn't just holding the records.”
I stared at her.
“What else is there?”
May you like
She whispered:
“Another child.”
