Chapter 2 – THE PRICE OF SILENCE
The silence in the alley was suffocating.
The only sound was the distant hum of Chicago traffic and the faint dripping of a nearby gutter.
Luca stared at the silver rosary dangling from his mother’s hand.
Then he slowly turned his head toward Catherine.
“You paid a nurse to steal my child,” Luca said.
It wasn’t a question. It was a realization that carried the weight of an executioner’s blade.
Catherine took a step back, her red satin gown rustling against the wet asphalt. For the first time all evening, the arrogant composure that she used to terrorize the hotel staff was completely gone.
“Luca, listen to me,” Catherine stammered, her hands raised defensively. “Your mother has always hated me. She’s trying to frame me. That rosary was stolen from my gym locker years ago!”
“Stop lying!”
The voice didn’t come from Luca. It came from little Mia.
The nine-year-old girl stepped out from behind her father’s leg. She was shivering in the thin denim jacket, but her chin was raised high.
“You visited the house,” Mia said, pointing her small finger at Catherine. “The bad house with the tall fences. You came every month to give the angry lady money.”
Catherine’s eyes widened in sheer panic. “Shut up, you little brat!”
Luca moved so fast I barely saw it.
He closed the distance between them in two massive strides, grabbing Catherine by the upper arm. His grip was so tight her knuckles instantly turned white.
“Do not ever,” Luca growled, his face inches from hers, “speak to my daughter that way again.”
He threw her backward. Catherine stumbled and fell hard against the brick wall of the alley, her perfect hair coming undone.
“Why?” Luca demanded, his voice echoing off the brick walls. “Why would you take my child? You were my father’s most trusted advisor. You were supposed to be my friend.”
Catherine laughed. It was a ugly, broken sound.
She slowly slid down the brick wall, pulling her knees to her chest.
“Your friend?” Catherine spat. “I gave my entire youth to your father’s company. I built this hotel brand from the ground up while you were off playing happy family with Sarah!”
She looked at the ground, her chest heaving.
“When your father got sick, he updated the corporate trust,” Catherine continued bitterly. “He stipulated that if you died without an heir, the entire Moretti empire would transfer to his business partner. Me.”
My stomach tightened.
It was always about money. The cruelty, the lies, the threats against my job. It all stemmed from greed.
“I just had to wait for you to drink yourself to death,” Catherine sneered, looking up at Luca. “After Sarah died, you were halfway there. But then the baby survived. A tiny, premature little heir that would strip me of everything I earned.”
She pointed at Eleanor.
“I paid the nurse to take her to a private, unlicensed foster home. I paid them to keep her hidden. But your mother… your mother never stopped digging. She found the nurse. She found the house.”
Eleanor wrapped her arm around Mia’s shoulders.
“I took my granddaughter the night before you planned to move her out of the state,” Eleanor said firmly. “I’ve been hiding with her ever since. Moving from apartment to apartment. Waiting for the day your father’s corrupt board members stepped down so it would be safe to bring her home.”
Luca looked at his mother. The pain of twenty-two years of separation washed over his face.
“Mom,” Luca whispered. “Why didn’t you come to me?”
“Because Catherine held the majority voting rights while you were grieving, Luca,” Eleanor said, tears filling her eyes. “She controlled the hotel security, the private investigators, everything. If I had brought Mia to you then, Catherine would have found a way to take her legally. Or worse.”
Luca turned back to Catherine. Disgust rolled off him in waves.
“You’re finished,” Luca said coldly. “I’m calling the police. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in a federal prison.”
Catherine slowly pushed herself off the brick wall.
She brushed the dirt from her expensive gown. And then, she smiled.
It was a chilling, confident smile.
“Call them,” Catherine said smoothly. “Call the police, Luca. Tell them your mother kidnapped a child from a foster home nine years ago. Let’s see who goes to prison.”
Luca froze.
“What are you talking about?”
Catherine reached into her designer clutch and pulled out a folded, laminated card.
“I’m not an idiot, Luca,” she purred. “I knew the nurse might talk. I knew your mother might find her. So I protected my investment.”
She tossed the card onto the wet pavement at Luca’s feet.
“Pick it up,” Catherine ordered.
Luca hesitated, then bent down. He picked up the card and stared at it.
His face drained of all color.
“No,” Luca breathed.
“Answer one, open two,” Catherine mocked, throwing Eleanor’s words back at her. “Did you really think I just handed her to strangers?”
I stepped forward, unable to help myself. I looked over Luca’s shoulder at the card.
It was a State of Illinois Foster Care license.
Issued nine years ago.
And the name printed clearly on the license was Catherine Bellamy.
“I didn’t just pay a foster home,” Catherine smiled maliciously. “I legally adopted her under a sealed, closed-record process with a judge I own. Legally, Luca, that child is my daughter. And your mother is a kidnapper.”
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