Chapter 8 - The Secret Hidden in His Father's Signature
Isabella arrived at Luca's apartment before eight the following morning.
She carried a leather folder and looked as though she hadn't slept.
I was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of tea when she entered.
“Please tell me you've found something,” she said.
Luca took the folder from her.
“We're trying.”
She looked at me.
“Sophia, I'm sorry. I know this is affecting the center.”
“You don't need to apologize.”
“But if Victoria has something involving my father—”
“Then we'll examine it,” I said. “We won't assume it's true just because she wants us to believe it.”
Isabella's shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Thank you.”
Luca opened the folder.
Inside was a printed copy of the document Victoria had sent her.
It appeared to be a private agreement dated six months before their father's death.
According to the document, Anthony Moretti had authorized a transfer of ownership involving a commercial property in Brooklyn. The agreement also referenced a confidential trust established for the benefit of his children.
At the bottom was his signature.
Luca stared at it for a long time.
“That's Dad's handwriting,” Isabella whispered.
He shook his head.
“Not necessarily.”
She looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Our father signed thousands of documents. A signature can be copied.”
“But the property listed here—”
“Was sold twelve years ago.”
I leaned forward.
“Then why would someone create an agreement involving it?”
Luca turned another page.
The document included a reference number from an old company archive.
He took out his laptop and searched the company's digital records.
Nothing appeared.
He tried another database.
Still nothing.
“It's not in the system,” he said.
“Could it have been deleted?” I asked.
“Possibly. But our archives are backed up.”
Isabella sat down.
“What if Dad really did create a trust and someone erased it?”
Luca closed the laptop.
“Then we find the original records.”
He looked at me.
“I need to go to the old headquarters.”
“I'll come with you.”
He hesitated.
“Sophia, this could become unpleasant.”
“I know.”
“You don't have to involve yourself in my family's history.”
I met his gaze.
“I'm not involving myself because you're wealthy, Luca. I'm involved because someone is threatening people I care about and trying to damage a project that matters to me.”
He held my eyes for a moment.
Then he nodded.
“All right.”
We drove to the company's former headquarters in lower Manhattan, a building that now housed several administrative departments and an archive facility.
The records manager, Thomas Reed, greeted Luca with obvious surprise.
“Mr. Moretti. I wasn't expecting you.”
“I need access to the property archives from twelve years ago.”
Thomas's expression became cautious.
“That's a substantial amount of material.”
“Then we'll start with the records related to the Brooklyn property listed in this agreement.”
He handed Thomas the document.
The older man's face changed as he read it.
“Where did you get this?”
“Why?”
Thomas looked toward the closed office door.
“Because I remember this transaction.”
Luca stepped forward.
“You do?”
“Yes. But it was never completed.”
“Why not?”
Thomas hesitated.
“The buyer withdrew after the title search revealed a dispute involving the property.”
“Who was the buyer?”
Thomas opened a filing cabinet and removed a ledger.
He searched through several pages before stopping.
“Northbridge Capital.”
Luca went still.
I noticed immediately.
“What is it?”
He looked at me.
“Northbridge was one of Victoria's clients.”
Thomas cleared his throat.
“There was another issue. The company requested a copy of Mr. Moretti's signature authorization.”
“Did they receive it?” Luca asked.
“I don't know. The correspondence file should contain the answer.”
We spent the next hour searching through archived correspondence.
Most of it consisted of routine letters, invoices, and property reports.
Then Thomas found a slim folder tucked between two larger files.
He opened it carefully.
Inside was a letter signed by Anthony Moretti.
It instructed the company's legal department to suspend all transactions involving Northbridge Capital until an independent review had been completed.
Beneath the letter was a handwritten note.
Do not allow this matter to proceed without speaking to Luca.
Luca stared at the page.
His father had written it only weeks before he died.
“Why didn't I know about this?” he whispered.
Thomas looked uncomfortable.
“Mr. Moretti, there was a change in the legal department around that time. Several files were transferred to an outside storage facility.”
“Which facility?”
Thomas checked the archive register.
“Briarwood Records.”
I wrote down the name.
“Can we access those files?”
“We can request them.”
“How long will that take?”
“Several days, possibly longer.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“We don't have several days.”
I placed a hand on his arm.
“We'll request the records and pursue an independent review at the same time.”
He looked at me.
For a moment, I could see the instinct to take control rising behind his eyes.
Then he exhaled.
“Do it.”
Thomas began preparing the request.
Before we left, he called us back.
“There is one more thing.”
He showed us an entry in the archive register.
A box of documents relating to the Northbridge transaction had been removed from storage two months earlier.
The person who requested it had used a legal authorization from Ashford Strategic Consulting.
Victoria's company.
Isabella covered her mouth.
“She has the original files.”
“Or she knows where they are,” I said.
Luca looked toward the window.
“She isn't just making accusations. She's building a case.”
“And she may have been doing it for years,” I replied.
On the drive back, Isabella sat silently in the rear seat.
Finally, she asked, “Luca, do you think Dad knew something was wrong?”
He looked straight ahead.
“I think he suspected it.”
“Then why didn't he tell us?”
“Perhaps he was trying to resolve it before it reached the family.”
Isabella's voice broke.
“He always did that.”
Luca glanced at her in the mirror.
“What?”
“Made decisions for everyone. Kept things quiet because he thought he was protecting us.”
The words settled heavily inside the car.
I thought of Luca's habit of withholding information whenever he believed the truth might upset someone.
He had learned it somewhere.
Perhaps he had learned it from a father who loved his family but believed silence was a form of protection.
Isabella wiped her eyes.
“I don't want to spend my life wondering what he knew.”
“You won't,” Luca said.
“How can you be sure?”
He reached back and took her hand.
“Because this time, we're going to find out.”
That afternoon, the first news article appeared online.
MORETTI HOLDINGS FACES QUESTIONS OVER CHARITY PROPERTY DEALS.
The story included photographs of the restored reading center, copies of the disputed financial statements, and an anonymous source claiming that the foundation had been used to disguise private transactions.
By evening, several donors had contacted Margaret.
Two suspended their planned contributions.
A local news station requested an interview with me.
I declined.
But the reporter left a message that made my blood run cold.
“Miss Bennett, we understand that you are romantically involved with Luca Moretti and were personally responsible for coordinating the bookstore project. We would like to give you an opportunity to explain your role.”
I listened to it twice.
They were no longer investigating the documents alone.
They were coming after my credibility.
When Luca learned about the message, he immediately reached for his phone.
“I'll have our communications team issue a statement.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“Sophia—”
“Let the investigation speak for itself. If we respond emotionally, we give Victoria exactly what she wants.”
“She is trying to destroy your reputation.”
“And she may succeed in damaging it temporarily. But I will not lie, and I will not allow anyone to turn this center into a weapon.”
His expression softened.
“What do you need from me?”
I took a breath.
“Tell me everything you know about Northbridge Capital. Even the parts you think are irrelevant.”
He nodded.
Then he said something that made my heart sink.
“There is one thing I haven't told you.”
I waited.
“When my father died, he left me a sealed envelope with instructions to open it only if I ever discovered evidence of fraud involving the company.”
I stared at him.
“Where is it?”
“In a safe at the family home.”
“Have you opened it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He looked down.
“Because I thought it concerned a business dispute that had already been resolved.”
I took his hand.
“Luca, whatever is inside, we need to know.”
He nodded slowly.
Then he called his mother.
Elena answered on the second ring.
When Luca explained what had happened, she was silent for a long moment.
Finally, she said, “I wondered when this day would come.”
Luca froze.
“Mother?”
Her voice trembled.
“Your father told me that if Victoria Ashford ever returned, I should make sure you opened the envelope.”
A chill moved through me.
Elena continued.
“He said she would come back when she believed she had something to gain.”
Luca gripped the phone.
“What did Dad know?”
His mother's answer was barely audible.
“He knew that someone inside the company had betrayed him.”
A pause followed.
Then she added six words that changed everything.
“And he believed it was someone in our family.”
My heart stopped.
May you like
Because if Anthony Moretti had suspected betrayal from within his own family, Victoria Ashford might not be the only person we needed to fear.
And the sealed envelope could reveal that the greatest threat to Luca had been sitting at his own dinner table all along.
