Chapter 9 - LUCA’S DEAD MOTHERWORD NUMBER - 9
Luca did not react.
Not visibly.
That was worse.
He simply stared at Victor Vale.
“My mother died of pancreatic cancer.”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
“I held her hand.”
“You held the hand of a woman sedated after reconstructive surgery.”
Luca moved so quickly Marco stepped between them.
“What did you say?”
Victor did not retreat.
“Isabella prepared her disappearance for months.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“Why?”
Victor looked toward Antonio’s ledger.
“Because Antonio discovered she created the medical network.”
Bellini.
The poisonings.
The secret patient histories.
Isabella Moretti.
Luca’s mother.
My own mother looked sick.
“I never knew.”
Victor nodded.
“Almost no one did.”
Isabella had been born into an old banking family.
She married Antonio at twenty-three.
Publicly, she hosted charity galas and funded hospitals.
Privately, she learned early that medical information could control powerful people more effectively than guns.
Addiction.
Infertility.
Hidden illness.
Psychiatric treatment.
Pregnancy.
DNA.
Medication.
Doctors knew secrets men would kill to hide.
Isabella built a network.
Bellini became one of her most valuable operators.
“She blackmailed people?” I asked.
Victor nodded.
“At first.”
“At first?”
“Later she realized illness itself could be manufactured.”
Luca turned away.
I watched his shoulders.
Still.
Too still.
Victor continued.
“Antonio found out.”
“So she poisoned him.”
“Yes.”
“Silvio helped.”
“Yes.”
“Then Antonio survived.”
“Temporarily.”
“And my mother remained beside me while I mourned him.”
Victor lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
Luca laughed.
The sound held no humor.
“Remarkable family.”
My mother looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
He did not respond.
I understood that too.
Sorry was useless against years stolen by lies.
Vanessa asked:
“Where is Isabella now?”
Victor looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
“You just said—”
“I knew she survived. Not where she went.”
“Silvio knows.”
“Yes.”
“Bellini?”
“Probably.”
Marco searched through Antonio’s index.
Several accounts were labeled I.M.
Transfers continued until two months earlier.
One current destination existed.
A philanthropic medical foundation in Switzerland.
Isabella Moretti Foundation for Neurological Research.
Luca stared.
He had donated to it.
Every year.
His dead mother had been receiving money from her own son through a foundation created in her memory.
“That is cruel,” I whispered.
Luca looked at the screen.
“She always liked elegance.”
My phone rang.
Silvio.
Luca answered.
“Where is she?”
Silvio did not pretend not to understand.
“You opened the second compartment.”
“Yes.”
“I underestimated Antonio.”
“You underestimated Emma’s mother.”
A pause.
“Also true.”
“Where is Isabella?”
Silvio sighed.
“You really don’t know when to leave graves closed.”
“No.”
“That is your father in you.”
“My father died because you obeyed her.”
Silvio was quiet.
Then:
“You think Isabella gave orders.”
“She did.”
“You have no idea.”
“Then explain.”
Silvio’s voice became strange.
Almost afraid.
“Your mother does not give orders anymore.”
Luca frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“She has been sick for years.”
“Real sick?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“No.”
“Uncle.”
“No.”
Silvio’s voice broke for the first time.
“If you find her, Bellini finds her.”
“Bellini already works for her.”
“Not anymore.”
The story shifted again.
Bellini had broken away.
Why?
Power.
Medical files.
Money.
He no longer wanted to serve Isabella, Silvio, Victor, or anyone.
He had built his own archive.
The current poisonings were not Isabella’s order.
They were Bellini cleaning old witnesses before the Vale-Moretti marriage triggered audits.
“Then why kidnap Clara?”
“To find the ledger.”
“Why did you help him?”
“I didn’t.”
Silvio sounded furious.
“I took Clara to keep Bellini from reaching her first.”
My mother looked toward the phone.
“You hit me.”
Silvio replied:
“You stabbed me with a restoration pick.”
I looked at Mom.
She shrugged.
“Fair.”
Silvio continued.
“I needed the ledger before Bellini.”
“So did Victor.”
“Yes.”
“And you still murdered Antonio.”
Silence.
No escape.
Finally Silvio said:
“Yes.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Why?”
“Because Isabella told me Antonio planned to kill you.”
Luca opened them.
“What?”
“She said Antonio believed you were compromised.”
“By whom?”
“The Vales.”
Victor swore.
Silvio continued.
“She showed me documents.”
“Fake?”
“I know that now.”
“Too late.”
“Yes.”
Silvio’s voice was tired.
“I spent twelve years living with that.”
“Good.”
A pause.
“You sound like him.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
For the first time, Silvio sounded almost relieved.
Then he gave an address.
Lake Geneva.
A private hospice.
“Isabella is there.”
Luca stared.
“Why tell me?”
“Because Bellini is going there too.”
The line disconnected.
We left immediately.
The hospice was not registered under Moretti.
Private property.
Three buildings.
Lakefront.
Security found two unconscious guards.
Bellini had arrived first.
Inside the main house, we found medical equipment.
Photographs.
Family objects.
A room overlooking the lake.
Isabella Moretti lay in a hospital bed.
Alive.
Extremely frail.
Her eyes opened when Luca entered.
She smiled.
“My boy.”
Luca stopped six feet away.
He did not approach.
“You’re alive.”
“Yes.”
“For nine years.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me bury you.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Did you poison Father?”
Isabella looked toward the window.
“That is not the first thing you ask a dying woman.”
“It is the only thing.”
She sighed.
“I began it.”
My stomach tightened.
Luca did not move.
“Why?”
“Your father was going to destroy everything.”
“What?”
“The network.”
“The blackmail?”
“The protection.”
“Do not call it that.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“You think men like your father built peace with kindness?”
“No.”
“Information kept people predictable.”
“You poisoned him.”
“I made him weak enough to negotiate.”
“And Silvio finished him.”
Her face changed.
“I did not order Antonio’s murder.”
Victor stepped forward.
“You created the lie that caused it.”
Isabella saw him.
“Victor.”
“You told Silvio Antonio planned to kill Luca.”
“I believed he did.”
“No.”
Victor’s voice hardened.
“You knew Antonio planned to expose you.”
Isabella looked away.
That was confession enough.
Luca stood beside the bed.
“Where is Bellini?”
Isabella’s face suddenly showed fear.
“He was here.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“What did he want?”
“My archive.”
“Where is it?”
“He took it.”
“What is in it?”
“Everything.”
Medical files on politicians.
Judges.
Police commanders.
Business leaders.
Moretti associates.
Vale executives.
Thousands of secrets.
Enough to blackmail half the city.
Luca asked:
“Where will he go?”
Isabella began struggling to breathe.
A monitor alarm sounded.
My mother moved toward her.
Isabella grabbed Luca’s wrist.
“Your wedding.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“Bellini will use the wedding.”
“Why?”
“Everyone will be there.”
Her grip weakened.
“He doesn’t want money anymore.”
“What does he want?”
Isabella whispered:
“Immunity.”
Then the alarm became continuous.
Doctors rushed inside.
Luca stepped back.
He watched without expression as the mother he had mourned once died a second time.
This time for real.
A doctor covered her face.
No one spoke.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
He listened.
His expression changed.
“Boss.”
Luca looked at him.
“Bellini just sent files to federal prosecutors.”
“What files?”
“Enough to indict Morettis, Vales, cops, judges.”
Victor swore.
“Why?”
Marco continued.
“There’s a message attached.”
Luca took the phone.
The message read:
SEVENTEEN DAYS BECAME NINE.
THE WEDDING WILL HAPPEN.
EVERYONE WILL ATTEND.
OR THE FULL MEDICAL ARCHIVE GOES PUBLIC.
Vanessa stared.
“He wants us to hold the wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Luca looked toward his dead mother.
Because Bellini no longer wanted to hide.
He wanted every powerful person connected to the old system gathered in one place.
The wedding was not going to be a wedding.
May you like
It was going to be an auction.
And Bellini intended to sell everyone’s secrets back to them.
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