Chapter 1 – WHERE DID YOU SEND MY SISTER?

“Vanessa, where did you send my sister and her newborn daughter?”

Luca’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. The sheer quiet of his tone made the forty guests at the engagement dinner freeze in their seats.

Vanessa took a step back, her red silk gown rustling against the Persian rug. She looked toward her father, but the older man simply stared at his plate.

“Luca, be reasonable,” Vanessa whispered, her voice trembling. “She was hysterical. It’s freezing outside. I told her to go to a hotel and we would handle this in the morning.”

Teresa Moretti stood up, her frail hands gripping the edge of the dining table.

“You sent a woman who gave birth five days ago to a hotel?” Teresa’s voice broke. “In the snow?”

“She had the driver with her!” Vanessa shot back, her composure cracking. “I was protecting this family’s reputation!”

Luca didn’t look at his mother. He didn’t look at the guests. He took one step toward his fiancée.

“Which driver?”

Vanessa swallowed hard. “Marcus.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Marcus wasn’t a family driver. He was the head of security for the silver-haired man sitting across the table—Sofia’s father-in-law, Vincent.

“Mr. Moretti,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Luca turned to me.

I looked at Vincent, who was suddenly wiping his mouth with a linen napkin, avoiding my gaze.

“I saw Marcus’s car leave the driveway an hour ago,” I whispered. “But Sofia wasn’t in the back seat.”

Vanessa’s head snapped toward me. “Shut up, Hannah!”

“She wasn’t in the back seat,” I repeated, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I was taking out the recycling. The back seat was completely empty.”

Luca looked at Vincent. “Where did your man take my sister?”

Vincent slowly pushed his chair back. “To the airport, Luca. She signed the papers this afternoon. She agreed to give us full custody of the child in exchange for her debts being cleared.”

Teresa gasped, falling back into her chair.

“No,” the old woman sobbed, clutching the little yellow sweater to her chest. “My Sofia would never sell her baby.”

“She didn’t sell her,” Vincent said coldly. “She returned her to her rightful family.”

Luca’s jaw tightened. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “We’ll see what my sister has to say about that.”

He dialed Sofia’s number and put it on speaker.

The room was so silent you could hear the crystal chandeliers clinking in the draft.

The phone rang once. Twice.

Then, a click.

But it wasn’t Sofia’s voice that answered.

“Mr. Moretti,” a deep, unfamiliar voice said over the line. “We found this phone on the side of Interstate 90. Along with a baby’s car seat.”

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