Chapter 3 – The Lawyer’s Briefcase
To Uncle Samuel.
I stared at the crayon letters.
The dining room was erupting into an argument between Roman, Gabriel, and Carlo, but all I could hear was the rushing blood in my ears.
Samuel Grant. The trusted family lawyer who had served the Bellinis for thirty years.
I bent down quickly and picked up the sketchbook.
“Mr. Grant,” I whispered.
He didn’t hear me. He was standing near the head of the table, arguing with Carlo about the legality of the twenty-million-dollar contract.
I opened the sketchbook.
The drawings were recent. Pictures of a large stone house. A garden. A woman with silver hair.
And a little girl with dark hair, standing next to a man with glasses.
I looked up at Samuel. He wore wire-rimmed glasses.
“Mr. Bellini,” I said.
My voice was too quiet. The shouting drowned me out.
“Gabriel, if you lay a hand on her in this house, you’ll go to prison!” Roman was yelling, holding his brother back from Victoria.
“She sold my daughter!” Gabriel roared.
“Mr. Bellini!” I shouted, as loud as I could.
The room snapped into silence. Thirty-six pairs of eyes turned to me—the housekeeper in the plain black uniform.
Roman looked at me, breathing heavily. “Nora. What is it?”
I walked around the table, holding the sketchbook tight against my chest. My hands were shaking, but I didn’t stop until I stood between Roman and Samuel Grant.
“You asked where the little girl is,” I said, my voice trembling but clear.
I held the sketchbook out to Roman.
He took it, frowning at the bright yellow cover. He opened the first page.
His eyes scanned the clumsy handwriting. To Uncle Samuel.
Roman looked up, his gaze locking onto the attorney.
Samuel’s face drained of color. He instinctively reached for his briefcase, realizing it was open.
“Where did you get this, Nora?” Roman asked quietly.
“It fell out of Mr. Grant’s bag,” I said.
Gabriel snatched the book from Roman. He flipped through the pages, his breath catching as he saw the drawings.
“This is recent,” Gabriel said, tracing a crayon drawing of a blue butterfly. “Mia loved butterflies. Even when she was tiny, she’d reach for them.”
Gabriel stepped toward the lawyer.
“Samuel,” Gabriel said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Why do you have my daughter’s drawings?”
Samuel backed up, bumping into a waiter. “It’s not what you think, Gabriel. I can explain.”
“You better explain it in the next five seconds,” Roman said, stepping up beside his brother. The two Bellini men, separated by eleven years of lies, were suddenly a united front.
Victoria gasped. “Samuel… you told me you couldn’t find her.”
The lawyer adjusted his tie, trying to regain his composure. “I lied, Victoria. Because you are an unfit mother.”
Samuel stood taller, addressing Roman and Gabriel.
“Three years ago, I discovered what Victoria had done. I found out about the girl in Switzerland. But I also found out Victoria was using the child’s trust fund to pay off her own gambling debts.”
Victoria let out a shriek. “Shut up!”
“It’s true,” Samuel said. “She was draining the account. The school was threatening to expel the girl. So I stepped in.”
“You kidnapped my daughter?” Gabriel asked, his fists clenched.
“I rescued her,” Samuel corrected. “I legally transferred her guardianship under a sealed alias. I brought her back to the States. I’ve been paying for her care, her tutors, everything.”
Teresa stepped forward, tears streaming down her face.
“Samuel… you’ve had my granddaughter this whole time? Why didn’t you tell us?”
Samuel looked at Teresa, his expression softening with genuine regret.
“Because your husband ordered me not to.”
The room went dead silent again.
“My father?” Roman asked, stunned. “My father knew she was alive?”
“He found out right before he died,” Samuel said heavily. “He was the one who authorized me to move her. But he didn’t trust anyone in this house. Not Carlo. Not Victoria. Not even you, Roman.”
Roman looked like he had been struck. “Why wouldn’t he trust me?”
Samuel reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, heavy iron key.
“Because your father knew the real reason Gabriel was framed for the embezzlement eleven years ago,” Samuel said. “He found out the truth on the night he died.”
Samuel held the key out to Roman.
“He locked the proof in the family vault. He told me to give you this key only when Gabriel returned to clear his name.”
Roman slowly took the key.
“Where is the child now, Samuel?” Gabriel asked, his voice breaking.
Samuel looked toward the grand double doors of the dining room.
“She’s not far, Gabriel.”
Suddenly, the heavy oak doors slowly creaked open.
A small figure stood in the dimly lit hallway.
She was clutching a piece of faded white linen.
Share
