CHAPTER 9 — THE ORIGINAL OWNER
CHAPTER 9 — THE ORIGINAL OWNER
"My name is Emma."
The words should have been impossible.
Yet they weren't.
Because suddenly, everything about Sophia made sense.
The way she looked at me.
The way she had known things she shouldn't have known.
The strange familiarity I had felt the first time I saw her.
The emerald necklace.
The photograph.
The secrets.
The lies.
All of it.
I stared at her.
"Emma."
She nodded.
"My real name."
My father stepped backward.
"No."
Emma looked at him.
"Hello, Father."
His face went completely white.
I couldn't breathe.
Father.
She had called him Father.
Not Robert.
Not some stranger.
My father.
The man who had spent my entire life telling me I was his only daughter.
The man who had just admitted he knew about Maria.
The man who had hidden the existence of my sisters.
Now another woman was standing in front of him.
Calling him Father.
My knees felt weak.
"How long?"
Emma looked at me.
"How long have I known?"
"Yes."
She lowered her eyes.
"Since the day I married Julian."
I froze.
"You married Julian?"
"No."
She shook her head.
"I never married him."
I looked at Julian.
His expression was devastated.
"Then what was your relationship?"
Emma answered quietly.
"I was assigned to him."
The room fell silent.
I stared at her.
"Assigned?"
She nodded.
"By your mother."
My heart raced.
"My mother?"
"Yes."
"Isabella?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Emma looked at my father.
"Because she knew Robert was watching you."
My father said nothing.
Emma continued.
"She knew Julian had been recruited."
"And she sent you?"
"To watch him."
I laughed bitterly.
"So while I thought you were my husband's mistress..."
"You were watching him."
"Yes."
"And me?"
Emma's eyes softened.
"I was watching you too."
I shook my head.
"You slept with him."
Emma looked down.
"That part was real."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Because I needed Robert to believe I was loyal to him."
"And Julian?"
"He knew."
I turned toward Julian.
"You knew she was Emma?"
"Not until later."
"When?"
"Three years into our marriage."
I stared.
"You knew my sister was alive."
"I suspected."
"You suspected?"
"I had evidence."
"And you didn't tell me."
"I was trying to protect you."
I laughed.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Julian looked ashamed.
"I know."
I walked toward Emma.
She didn't move.
I stood inches away from her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Because I didn't know if you would believe me."
"You could have tried."
"I was afraid."
"Of what?"
"That Robert would kill you."
I stared.
"You knew he wanted me dead."
"Yes."
"You knew my father was hiding things."
"Yes."
"You knew Julian was involved."
"Yes."
"And you watched me suffer."
Emma's tears fell.
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because I thought keeping you alive was more important than making you happy."
I shook my head.
"You don't get to decide that."
"I know."
"You're my sister."
She nodded.
"You should have trusted me."
"I wanted to."
"Then why didn't you?"
She whispered:
"Because the last time I trusted this family, they left me in a burning house."
I froze.
"What?"
Emma looked at my father.
"Tell her."
My father closed his eyes.
I turned toward him.
"What happened?"
He didn't answer.
Emma did.
"Twenty-nine years ago, when Robert discovered your mother had given birth to four children, he ordered the hospital records destroyed."
I knew that.
"But he also ordered the nursery destroyed."
My heart stopped.
"Destroyed?"
"A fire."
My father whispered:
"Yes."
Emma continued.
"They wanted everyone to believe the fire killed the children."
I looked at her.
"How did you survive?"
"My mother saved me."
"Then why did you disappear?"
"Because she couldn't save all of us."
I couldn't speak.
Emma reached into her bag.
She removed an old photograph.
Four newborn babies.
Each with a small bracelet.
I stared.
There were four.
Not three.
Not two.
Four.
Emma pointed to the babies.
"You."
She pointed to the first.
"Me."
The second.
"Daniel."
The third.
"And Maria."
The fourth.
I looked at her.
"Maria was real."
"Yes."
"Then where is she?"
Emma's face changed.
"We don't know."
My heart sank.
"What do you mean?"
"She disappeared."
"When?"
"That night."
"Who took her?"
Emma shook her head.
"No one knows."
I looked at my father.
He looked away.
"You know."
He whispered:
"I know what I was told."
"What were you told?"
"That Maria died."
Emma laughed bitterly.
"That's what they told you."
I stared at her.
"What do you believe?"
She looked at the photograph.
"I believe Maria survived."
Then Julian spoke.
"She did."
We all turned.
Emma stared at him.
"You found her?"
Julian nodded.
"Not personally."
"Then how?"
"Robert found her."
My stomach dropped.
"Where?"
Julian looked at me.
"Europe."
"Which country?"
"Italy."
I whispered:
"Why?"
"Because that's where the original Laurent records were hidden."
Emma looked frightened.
"Robert has Maria."
Julian nodded.
"Yes."
My father stood.
"We have to leave."
"Where?"
"Now."
I grabbed his arm.
"Why?"
"Because if Robert has Maria, he'll use her."
"For what?"
"To destroy the trust."
The car was waiting outside.
We drove through the city without speaking.
Emma sat beside me.
Julian sat opposite us.
My father was in the front.
For the first time in my life, I was sitting beside a woman who looked exactly like me.
Not exactly.
There were differences.
Her eyes were darker.
Her hair shorter.
A thin scar crossed her left cheek.
But the resemblance was undeniable.
She was my sister.
My twin.
The sister who had been erased.
I looked at her.
"Where did you grow up?"
"Everywhere."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the truth."
She smiled sadly.
"After the fire, my mother moved constantly."
"Why?"
"Robert."
"She was afraid of him."
"Yes."
"Did she ever tell you about me?"
"Every day."
My throat tightened.
"What did she say?"
"That I had a sister."
"Did she know where I was?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't she come back?"
Emma looked at my father.
"Because your father asked her not to."
I turned.
"Why?"
My father didn't answer.
Emma whispered:
"Because he believed you would be safer without us."
I stared at him.
"Did you really think that?"
He finally turned around.
"I was wrong."
I looked away.
He continued.
"I thought if Robert believed you were the only surviving heir, he would protect you."
"Instead, he hunted me."
"Yes."
"And you still kept silent."
"Yes."
"Why?"
My father looked broken.
"Because I had already lost three children."
He paused.
"I couldn't lose you too."
I didn't answer.
Because for the first time, I understood that his lies hadn't come from indifference.
They had come from fear.
That didn't excuse them.
But it explained them.
Three hours later, we arrived at an old private airfield.
A helicopter was waiting.
My father walked toward it.
I stopped him.
"Where are we going?"
"Italy."
"To find Maria."
He nodded.
"And the original records."
"What records?"
"The Moretti documents."
I looked at Julian.
"The original owner."
He nodded.
"Exactly."
I remembered the name.
Luka Moretti.
The man who had appeared in my family's oldest records.
The family that supposedly had nothing to do with the Laurent empire.
The family my grandmother had erased.
"What do the Morettis have?"
My father answered:
"Proof."
"Proof of what?"
"That the Laurent empire was never legally ours."
I froze.
"What?"
He looked at me.
"Your grandmother took control of the original Moretti properties through a fraudulent succession transfer."
My stomach tightened.
"How?"
"She married into the family."
"Then?"
"She convinced the courts that the Moretti heir was dead."
"Was he?"
"No."
"Who was he?"
My father looked at Julian.
Julian answered:
"Luka Moretti."
I stared.
"The man in the photograph."
"Yes."
"Then why did he disappear?"
"Because your grandmother tried to kill him."
My breath caught.
"She tried to kill him?"
"Yes."
"And he survived."
"Yes."
"Where is he now?"
Julian looked at me.
"We don't know."
Emma spoke.
"I do."
Everyone turned.
She pulled another photograph from her bag.
It showed an elderly man standing outside an old villa.
Behind him was a stone gate.
And above the gate was a crest.
A black wolf.
Emma whispered:
"He's been waiting for us."
We flew to Italy that night.
The villa stood on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean.
It was enormous.
Old.
Beautiful.
And completely untouched by modern luxury.
No marble lobby.
No glass towers.
No corporate branding.
Just stone.
Iron.
History.
A man stood at the gate.
He was older than I expected.
Silver hair.
Dark eyes.
A walking stick.
But when he looked at me, something changed in his expression.
He whispered:
"Isabella's daughter."
I stopped.
"You knew my mother?"
He nodded.
"I loved her."
My father looked away.
Emma stepped forward.
"Luka."
The old man's eyes filled with tears.
"Emma."
He touched her face.
Then looked at me.
"And Elena."
I stared.
"You know who I am."
"I knew you before you were born."
I swallowed.
"Why?"
He smiled sadly.
"Because I owned the land where your mother gave birth to you."
I frowned.
"What?"
He gestured toward the villa.
"Your family called it Laurent territory."
He shook his head.
"It was Moretti land."
He turned toward the sea.
"Everything you call your empire began here."
I looked around.
"The resorts."
"The hotels."
"The banks."
"The land."
"All of it?"
He nodded.
"All of it."
I whispered:
"Then my family stole everything."
Luka looked at me.
"Your grandmother did."
"What's the difference?"
He smiled sadly.
"That depends on what you choose to do next."
Inside the villa, Luka showed us a hidden archive.
Hundreds of documents.
Property deeds.
Bank records.
Original contracts.
Photographs.
Birth records.
Marriage records.
And finally—
the original ownership document.
I stared at it.
The Laurent name wasn't there.
The Moretti name was.
ORIGINAL HOLDER OF THE INTERNATIONAL ESTATE
LUCA MORETTI
I looked at him.
"Why didn't you take it back?"
He smiled.
"Because revenge isn't always worth destroying everyone who had nothing to do with the crime."
"Then why show me?"
"Because you have a choice."
"What choice?"
"Return everything."
My heart stopped.
"Everything?"
"Every property."
"Every resort?"
"Yes."
"The entire empire?"
He nodded.
"Or keep it."
I stared at him.
"Why would you let me choose?"
"Because you didn't steal it."
I looked at my father.
Then Emma.
Then Julian.
Then back at Luka.
"Who did?"
He answered quietly.
"Your grandmother."
A sound came from the hallway.
Everyone turned.
A door opened.
A woman stepped into the room.
She was older.
Pale.
Her hair was silver.
Her face looked familiar.
Too familiar.
My heart stopped.
I knew those eyes.
I had seen them in photographs.
In dreams.
In the memories I wasn't sure were real.
My lips trembled.
"Mom?"
The woman froze.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then she whispered:
"Elena."
I couldn't breathe.
Isabella Laurent—
my mother—
was standing in front of me.
Alive.
She walked toward me.
I stepped backward.
"You left me."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I know."
"You let me believe you were dead."
"I had to."
"You let Dad lie to me."
"I begged him to."
"Why?"
She looked at Emma.
Then at me.
"Because Robert was searching for you."
I shook my head.
"You could have come back."
"I tried."
"When?"
"Three times."
"Why didn't you stay?"
"Because every time I came close, someone died."
I froze.
"Who?"
She looked at Emma.
"People who protected us."
Then she looked at me.
"And the last time..."
Her voice broke.
"...I was pregnant."
I stared.
"Pregnant?"
She nodded.
"With Maria."
My heart stopped.
"Maria was born after you disappeared?"
"No."
She shook her head.
"Maria was born before."
I frowned.
"Then what do you mean?"
My mother looked at me.
"There was another child."
I felt the room disappear.
Another child.
Again.
Another secret.
Another name.
Another erased life.
She whispered:
"Maria wasn't the fourth."
My blood ran cold.
"Then who was?"
My mother looked at Luka.
Luka lowered his head.
And my mother finally said:
"The original heir."
I couldn't speak.
"Who?"
She reached into her coat.
She pulled out a small envelope.
She handed it to me.
I opened it.
Inside was a birth certificate.
A name.
A date.
A place.
And a seal I had never seen before.
I read the name.
My hands began shaking.
LUCIA MORETTI.
I looked at my mother.
"Who is Lucia?"
She whispered:
"Your grandmother's first daughter."
I frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does."
"She had another child?"
"Yes."
"Before me?"
"Twenty years before."
I stared at the certificate.
"Then why have I never heard of her?"
My mother looked at Luka.
"Because Lucia was the true heir to the Moretti fortune."
Silence.
"And your grandmother..."
My mother's voice broke.
"...made sure Lucia disappeared."
I looked at the document again.
Then at Luka.
He was crying.
"She was my daughter."
My heart stopped.
"The original owner wasn't you."
Luka nodded.
"No."
He looked at me.
"It was Lucia."
I swallowed.
"Where is she?"
Nobody answered.
Then the lights in the villa went out.
A gunshot echoed through the darkness.
Emma screamed.
Julian grabbed my arm.
My father shouted:
"Down!"
Another shot.
Glass shattered.
Then a man's voice came from outside.
Cold.
Calm.
Familiar.
Robert.
"You've spent twenty-nine years hiding the original heir."
A pause.
"Now I'm going to bring her home."
The lights returned.
Luka was standing by the window.
Blood stained his shirt.
He looked at me.
And whispered:
"Elena..."
His eyes widened.
"Run."
Because behind me, the door had opened.
And standing there—
was the woman whose photograph had been hidden for twenty-nine years.
The woman who looked exactly like me.
May you like
The woman wearing the original Moretti family crest.
Lucia.
