Chapter 7: The Truth About Maria

The black SUV stopped directly in front of the house.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring through the window.

Luca stepped out alone.

No guards.

No men with guns.

Just him.

He looked exhausted.

His suit was wrinkled, his hair messy, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes.

He looked nothing like the untouchable mafia boss everyone feared.

He looked like a man who hadn't slept in days.

A knock sounded at the door.

I didn't move.

Another knock.

"Catrina, I know you're in there."

I finally opened the door but kept my distance.

"What do you want?"

Luca stared at me for a long moment.

"You."

I almost laughed.

"You had seven years to want me."

His jaw tightened.

"I know."

"Do you?" I asked bitterly. "Because when I needed you, you told me to wait. When Dora needed me, you let Maria replace me. And when I finally asked for a divorce, you acted like I was something you owned."

He lowered his eyes.

"You're right."

That answer caught me off guard.

Luca had never admitted I was right.

Not once.

"Why are you really here?" I asked.

He looked toward the old house.

"Because I found something."

My heart skipped.

"What?"

"A file hidden in my father's private study."

I went completely still.

"It contained your father's name."

My fingers tightened around the door.

"My father?"

"Yes."

Luca stepped closer but stopped when he saw me tense.

"Your father was investigating my family years before we ever met. He discovered financial records that could have brought down half the Moretti empire."

"My mother knew."

Luca's expression changed.

"You found the letter."

It wasn't a question.

I nodded slowly.

"She said Maria wasn't just a maid."

Luca looked away.

That was all the confirmation I needed.

"Who is she?"

He stayed silent.

"Luca, who is Maria?"

Finally, he whispered, "My father's daughter."

My breath caught.

"She's your sister?"

"Half-sister."

I stared at him.

"Then why did everyone pretend she was a maid?"

"Because my father had an affair with her mother. Fiona hated the woman. She refused to acknowledge Maria publicly, but she couldn't throw her away either. So Maria grew up inside the estate, protected by my father and treated like staff in front of outsiders."

Everything suddenly made sense.

The way Fiona trusted Maria.

The way Maria knew every secret in the house.

The way she had always been treated differently.

"And Dora?" I whispered.

Luca's face went pale.

"That's where things get worse."

I stepped aside and let him enter.

He sat across from me at the old dining table.

"Maria didn't just want my place," he said quietly. "She wanted yours."

I stared at him.

"She convinced Dora that you abandoned her. She told her that you didn't want to be her mother anymore."

My eyes burned.

"Why?"

"Because she wanted Dora to trust her completely."

"For what?"

Luca pulled a small folder from inside his jacket.

"My father recently changed his will. If something happens to me, Dora inherits everything."

My heart stopped.

"Maria knows that."

"Yes."

He opened the folder.

"But there's more. Someone has been moving money through accounts connected to Maria's mother. Millions of dollars have disappeared from the family businesses."

I looked at him in disbelief.

"You think Maria stole it?"

"I think she's working with someone."

Before I could answer, Luca's phone rang.

He looked at the screen and immediately stood.

It was Fiona.

He answered.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then his face changed.

"What hospital?"

My heart dropped.

"What's happened?" I demanded.

Luca looked at me.

"Dora is missing."

Everything inside me went cold.

"What?"

"She was supposed to be with Maria. They left the estate twenty minutes ago."

I grabbed my coat.

"Where are we going?"

Luca stared at me.

"To find our daughter."

For the first time in months, we stood on the same side.

But neither of us knew that Maria had left one final message behind.

It was waiting on Luca's desk at the Moretti estate.

Three words were written across the paper.

"Ask Catrina's mother."

And beneath them was an old photograph.

The same photograph I had found in my mother's box.

Except this copy had one detail mine didn't.

On the back was written a location.

The abandoned Moretti warehouse.

The place where my father had disappeared twenty years ago.