Chapter 6 - The Last Hour of Vittorio Moretti“You were there.”
Serena's voice barely rose above a whisper.
Damiano stood motionless near the window.
Elias looked between them, suddenly aware he had become irrelevant to whatever was about to happen.
“Were you with my grandfather when he died?”
“Yes.”
Serena closed her eyes.
A wave of exhaustion moved through her.
Every answer produced another betrayal.
“Did you poison him?”
“No.”
“How did he die?”
Damiano looked toward Alessia.
“Bring the file.”
Serena laughed sharply.
“You have a file?”
“I have everything.”
“That is becoming increasingly difficult to find comforting.”
Alessia left.
Damiano turned to Elias.
“Give us the room.”
Elias did not move.
Serena answered for him.
“He stays.”
Damiano's expression tightened.
“He helped put that proxy document in front of you.”
“Unknowingly.”
“You don't know that.”
“I know him better than you do.”
Elias's face twisted with shame.
Damiano stared at Serena for a long moment.
“Fine.”
Alessia returned with a tablet.
Damiano placed it on the table.
“Vittorio died at 6:14 this morning in a private residence outside Genoa.”
Serena swallowed.
“He was sick?”
“Pancreatic cancer.”
She stared.
“He never told me.”
“He didn't want you returning to Europe.”
“Because he thought I was in danger.”
“Yes.”
“Or because he didn't want me asking questions.”
“Both.”
Damiano opened a medical report.
“Three weeks ago his doctors estimated he had one to two months.”
“What changed?”
“At 5:21 this morning, he called me.”
“Why?”
“He said someone had accessed the Laurent archives.”
“The trust?”
“No. Older records.”
“What records?”
“Your mother's.”
Serena sat down.
Damiano continued.
“I went to his house. He was weak but conscious. He told me Meridian had discovered you were in Charleston.”
“How?”
“He didn't know.”
“He said they found her.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“He gave me the envelope.”
“The one I opened.”
“Yes.”
“And after that?”
“He started having difficulty breathing.”
“Did you call a doctor?”
“The doctor was already there.”
“Who?”
Damiano's jaw tightened.
“Dr. Emil Voss.”
Elias cursed.
“Related to Claudia?”
“Her uncle.”
Serena stared at him.
“You allowed a Voss doctor near my grandfather?”
“Emil left the family years ago.”
“That seems to be a popular claim.”
“I checked him.”
“And apparently you missed something.”
Damiano did not argue.
Alessia opened another document.
“Toxicology detected digitalis compounds inconsistent with Vittorio's medication.”
“So he was poisoned.”
“Yes.”
“By Emil?”
“We don't know.”
“Was he arrested?”
“He disappeared thirty minutes after Vittorio died.”
Serena stood.
“Then why didn't you tell me immediately?”
“Because I had you on a pier in Charleston with unknown attackers moving toward you.”
“So you decided which truth I could handle.”
“Yes.”
She laughed without humor.
“At least you're consistent.”
Damiano took the accusation.
Elias finally spoke.
“Could Claudia have known?”
Damiano looked at him.
“Almost certainly.”
“Then her call was meant to divide you.”
“Obviously.”
Serena looked at both men.
“That does not mean she lied.”
“No,” Damiano said. “It doesn't.”
The honesty disturbed her.
She walked toward the window.
Charleston lights reflected off the harbor.
Her grandfather was dead.
Her mother had been murdered.
Her biological father had died in a suspicious plane crash.
Jonathan Mercer had faked his death.
Claudia had manipulated Elias into divorce.
And Damiano had once betrayed Bellacorte security.
Serena thought of Vittorio's envelope.
Open this only when you finally remember who you are.
Maybe the point had not been memory.
Maybe it had been distrust.
She turned.
“I want to see my grandfather's body.”
Damiano's expression changed.
“Serena—”
“Tomorrow.”
“Europe isn't safe.”
“Neither is Charleston.”
“He wanted you away.”
“He is dead.”
Her voice broke on the final word.
She steadied herself.
“He spent thirty-one years controlling what I knew. He does not get to control what I do after his death.”
Damiano's eyes softened.
“Tomorrow.”
Elias stepped forward.
“I'll come.”
Serena shook her head.
“No.”
“Serena—”
“No.”
He stopped.
She faced him.
“This isn't our marriage anymore.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
His jaw tightened.
“I owe you.”
“That doesn't make you family.”
Pain crossed his face.
She hated herself slightly for causing it.
But it was true.
“You need to stay here,” she continued. “Find Claudia. Find out what she touched inside Mercer Group.”
“You think I'm useful now?”
“I think you're responsible.”
The distinction landed.
Elias nodded.
“I'll do it.”
Serena picked up the copy of the proxy agreement.
“And Elias?”
“Yes?”
“Freeze every legal instrument connected to my signature.”
“All of them.”
“Immediately.”
He reached for his phone.
Damiano watched Serena.
Something in his expression had changed.
She was no longer the woman being escorted from danger.
She was directing people.
Maybe that was what Vittorio had feared.
Or perhaps what he had spent his life preparing her for.
The following morning, Serena boarded Damiano's jet.
She expected only security.
Instead she found a man sitting near the rear cabin.
He stood when she entered.
Late sixties.
Gray suit.
Gentle face.
Serena did not recognize him.
Damiano did.
His reaction was instant.
“No.”
The man raised both hands.
“I came voluntarily.”
“Get off my plane.”
“Damiano.”
“Now.”
Serena looked between them.
“Who is he?”
Neither answered.
“Who?”
The stranger looked directly at her.
“My name is Father Matteo Rinaldi.”
Serena frowned.
A priest.
Though he wore no collar.
Damiano's face remained hard.
“He buried Lucia.”
Serena's breath caught.
“And Alexander Laurent,” Matteo added.
Damiano stepped toward him.
“You were told never to contact her.”
“Vittorio is dead.”
“That changes nothing.”
“It changes everything.”
Serena moved between them.
“Stop.”
Damiano obeyed.
She faced Matteo.
“You knew my mother?”
“Yes.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Did they marry?”
A strange sadness appeared in his eyes.
“Yes.”
Serena felt tears rise unexpectedly.
No one had ever told her that.
“When?”
“Seven months before you were born.”
“Where?”
“Bellacorte chapel.”
“Who attended?”
“Vittorio. Damiano. Sebastian Voss. Jonathan Mercer. Myself.”
Serena turned toward Damiano.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You never told me.”
“No.”
She closed her eyes.
Another truth withheld.
Matteo reached inside his coat and removed a photograph.
Lucia wore a simple ivory dress.
Alexander stood beside her.
They looked impossibly happy.
Serena touched the image.
Then noticed something behind them.
A painted wall.
A symbol.
A sun divided by a vertical line.
She had seen it before.
On the wooden box in Savannah.
“What is that symbol?”
Matteo looked at Damiano.
Damiano said nothing.
“The Laurent seal,” Matteo answered.
Serena frowned.
“I thought the Laurents were a business family.”
“They were.”
“Then why a seal?”
“Because their empire began long before modern corporations.”
Matteo sat.
“Your father inherited something beyond money.”
“What?”
“A ledger called the Aurelius Register.”
Damiano muttered, “Matteo.”
“She deserves the truth.”
“What is the register?” Serena asked.
The priest looked at her.
“A record of beneficial ownership linking some of the world's largest companies to the people who secretly control them.”
Serena stared.
“That sounds like conspiracy fiction.”
“So does your life.”
Fair point.
“Where is it?”
“No one knows.”
“Why would my father have it?”
“Because the Laurent family built the structure Meridian later hijacked.”
Silence.
Serena processed this.
“My family created Meridian?”
“No,” Matteo said. “Your ancestors created a cooperative financial network after the Second World War. Meridian corrupted it.”
“And my father wanted to expose them?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why he died?”
“I believe so.”
Damiano crossed his arms.
“Belief isn't proof.”
Matteo looked at him.
“No. But Lucia found proof.”
Serena's heart accelerated.
“Where?”
“She hid it.”
“Where?”
Matteo looked at the photograph in Serena's hands.
“Inside the only place Vittorio believed Meridian would never search.”
Serena waited.
The priest's next words made Damiano go completely still.
“Your wedding ring.”
Serena stared at him.
“What?”
“The ring Elias Mercer placed on your hand four years ago was not purchased by Elias.”
Her pulse hammered.
“It belonged to your mother.”
Serena remembered the diamond.
Elegant.
Old-fashioned.
Elias had told her it came from a private jeweler Jonathan recommended.
She had worn it every day.
Until the divorce.
Then she left it on the kitchen table.
Elias still had it.
Across the Atlantic, in Charleston, Elias was standing inside the empty house he once shared with Serena.
He had come for documents.
Instead, he found the ring exactly where she had left it.
On the kitchen table.
He picked it up.
For the first time, he noticed the faint line around the inside of the band.
A seam.
He pressed it.
The inner ring separated.
Something tiny fell into his palm.
Not a jewel.
A black data capsule.
Elias stared at it.
Then the lights in the house went out.
May you like
From the dark hallway behind him, Claudia's voice whispered,
“Give me the ring.”
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