Chapter 9 – THE GHOSTS IN THE COURTROOM

The peace that had settled over the house vanished in an instant.

Luca stared at the thick manila envelope in his hands, his jaw tightening. “Marcus and Vanessa are serving consecutive life sentences. They don’t have an estate left to defend.”

The lawyer adjusted his glasses. “This isn’t from Marcus or Vanessa, Mr. Moretti. It is from their father. Donato Bellini.”

A chill ran down my spine. I had heard the name whispered among the staff when I was a maid. Donato was the patriarch, the man who had supposedly retired to Sicily years ago, leaving the American operations to his children.

“Donato has no legal standing here,” Luca said coldly.

“He does regarding his granddaughter,” the lawyer replied.

“He doesn’t have a granddaughter,” Luca snapped.

The lawyer sighed. “Mr. Moretti, the lawsuit filed this morning challenges your sole custody of Lily. Donato Bellini is petitioning the family court for emergency guardianship.”

“On what grounds?” I demanded, stepping forward, my heart pounding.

The lawyer looked at me, his eyes sweeping over my casual clothes. “On the grounds that Mr. Moretti runs a criminal enterprise, which resulted in a violent shootout in this very home three months ago, endangering the child. And that he has now replaced his late wife with a former domestic servant, providing an unstable environment.”

Luca’s hand shot out, grabbing the lawyer by the lapels of his expensive suit.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Luca hissed, lifting the man slightly onto his toes. “If Donato thinks he can take my daughter, he is a dead man. Tell him that.”

“Luca, stop,” I said gently, placing my hand on his arm. “Don’t give them exactly what they want.”

Luca breathed heavily, his eyes blazing, before slowly releasing the lawyer. The man stumbled back, straightening his tie with shaking hands.

“I will see you in court, Mr. Moretti,” the lawyer stammered, before quickly retreating to his car.

Luca slammed the door shut. He rested his forehead against the heavy wood, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“They can’t take her, can they?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Luca turned to me. The raw fear I had seen the night Lily ran away was back in his eyes.

“Donato has billions of dollars, Hannah. He buys judges. He buys politicians. He knows he can’t win a street war against me from Italy, so he’s trying to destroy me legally. He wants to take Lily as collateral to force me to give up the shipping docks.”

“We won’t let him,” I said fiercely, grabbing his hand. “We fight him.”

The next three weeks were a nightmare of legal briefs, depositions, and social worker visits.

The Bellini lawyers were ruthless. They painted Luca as a violent mobster and me as a gold-digging maid who had manipulated a grieving child. They brought up the shooting. They brought up the blood on the kitchen floor.

I sat in a cold, sterile courtroom beside Luca, holding his hand beneath the heavy wooden table.

Across the aisle sat Donato Bellini, who had flown in from Italy. He was a terrifyingly quiet older man with cold, dead eyes.

The judge, a stern woman named Honorable Davis, looked over her reading glasses at Luca.

“Mr. Moretti,” Judge Davis said. “The petitioner has provided compelling evidence that your home was the site of an armed conflict. That is not a safe environment for a ten-year-old child.”

“Your Honor,” Luca’s attorney argued. “The conflict was caused by the petitioner’s own children, Marcus and Vanessa, who broke into the home. Mr. Moretti acted in self-defense to protect his daughter.”

“And what about the presence of Miss Miller?” The Bellini lawyer stood up, pointing at me. “A twenty-six-year-old maid who is suddenly thrust into a motherly role? Is this the stability Lily needs?”

I squeezed Luca’s hand tighter. I felt my face burn with shame.

“Miss Miller saved my daughter’s life,” Luca spoke up, his voice echoing in the silent courtroom. “She took a bullet meant for me.”

“A noble act,” Donato’s lawyer sneered. “But it only proves the inherent danger of living with you, Mr. Moretti.”

Judge Davis sighed, rubbing her temples. “I have read the psychological evaluations. I have read the police reports. This is a highly complex case.”

She looked directly at Luca.

“Mr. Moretti, I am leaning toward granting temporary guardianship to Mr. Bellini until a full investigation into your business practices can be concluded.”

The world dropped out from under me.

“No,” Luca breathed, starting to stand up. “You can’t take her.”

“Sit down, Mr. Moretti,” the judge warned.

“Your Honor, please,” I stood up, ignoring my lawyer’s frantic gestures to stay seated. “You can’t send her away. She’s terrified of them. Vanessa locked her in a room. They don’t love her. They just want leverage.”

“Miss Miller, you are out of order,” Judge Davis said sharply.

Before I could speak again, the heavy oak doors at the back of the courtroom swung open.

Every head in the room turned.

Walking down the center aisle, holding the hand of her assigned social worker, was Lily.

She was wearing a neat blue dress, her dark curls brushed perfectly. And clutched tightly in her hand was a large, worn leather book.

“Lily?” Luca whispered.

The social worker approached the bench. “Your Honor, I apologize for the interruption. But Lily insisted she had evidence that the court needed to see before a ruling was made.”

The Bellini lawyer scoffed. “A child cannot submit evidence.”

“I am the judge, counselor, I will decide what I look at,” Judge Davis said. She looked down at Lily. “What do you have, young lady?”

Lily stepped forward bravely. She didn’t look at Donato. She looked at the judge.

“This is my mommy’s journal,” Lily said clearly. “She wrote it before she died. And she wrote about him.”

She pointed her small finger directly at Donato Bellini.

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