Chapter 36 - The First Son
His name was Nicholas Moretti.
Thirty-two years old.
Born seven years before Matteo met Elena.
His mother, Lucia Romano, had disappeared from public records shortly after Nicholas’s second birthday.
Carol uncovered the truth through sealed family-court files.
“Matteo paid her,” Carol said.
Elena sat inside her office while rain streaked the Manhattan windows.
“How much?”
“Enough to disappear.”
“Why?”
“Matteo’s father considered Lucia unsuitable. No influential family. No money. No political connections.”
Dante read the next page.
“Nicholas’s birth certificate lists the father as unknown.”
“But Matteo knew?”
“Yes.”
Elena looked at Nicholas’s photograph.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A serious expression.
He resembled Matteo enough to make her stomach tighten.
“Where is he?”
“Boston.”
Paul looked up from his laptop.
“Financial compliance consultant.”
Dante blinked.
“You’re joking.”
“No criminal record. No suspicious banking. No known underworld connections.”
Elena studied the picture.
“Does he know?”
Carol hesitated.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Lucia told him before she died.”
Dante pushed his chair back.
“I’m going to Boston.”
“So am I,” Elena said.
“No.”
She gave him a look.
Dante sighed.
“Fine.”
They found Nicholas in a glass office overlooking Boston Harbor.
He did not appear surprised when Elena entered.
“I wondered when someone would come.”
Elena sat across from him.
“You know who I am.”
“Everybody knows who you are.”
His tone contained no hostility.
Dante remained standing.
Nicholas looked at him.
“And everybody knows you.”
“Then this should be simple,” Dante replied.
Elena ignored them both.
“Vincent Salerno told us about you.”
That got a reaction.
Nicholas leaned back.
“Vincent is alive?”
“Recently arrested.”
Nicholas gave a quiet laugh.
“My mother would have enjoyed hearing that.”
“You knew him?”
“He visited us twice when I was a child.”
Elena placed a photograph of Matteo on the desk.
“What relationship did you have with your father?”
Nicholas looked at the picture for a long time.
“None.”
“He never contacted you?”
“Once.”
“When?”
“After his conviction.”
Dante stepped forward.
“What did he want?”
Nicholas opened a locked drawer.
From it he removed a letter.
“He wanted me to continue the Moretti name.”
Elena felt something twist inside her chest.
Nicholas slid the letter toward her.
Matteo’s handwriting covered four pages.
He described Elena as a thief.
Dante as a usurper.
The foundation as stolen property.
Most disturbing was the final paragraph.
Everything that should have been yours was handed to that boy.
Daniel.
Elena’s hands tightened.
“What did you do?”
Nicholas shrugged.
“Nothing.”
“Why keep the letter?”
“Because sometimes you need physical proof that your father was exactly as terrible as your mother warned you.”
Dante studied him carefully.
“You could claim part of Matteo’s estate.”
“There is no estate.”
“There are disputed assets.”
“I don’t want them.”
Elena believed him.
Dante wasn’t convinced.
Nicholas noticed.
“You think because we share DNA, I secretly want to become him.”
“I think blood creates complications.”
Nicholas stood.
“My mother spent twenty-eight years teaching me that blood creates biology. Character creates everything else.”
Elena stared at him.
Those words sounded painfully familiar.
Nicholas walked toward the window.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“Matteo mentioned a trust.”
Carol had already found every known trust.
“What trust?”
“He called it the Legacy Reserve.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
Nicholas turned.
“But he said it could make the Moretti family powerful again.”
Elena’s phone rang.
Rosa.
She answered.
“Elena, we have a problem.”
“What happened?”
“The foundation received a wire transfer.”
“How much?”
Rosa swallowed.
“Forty-eight million dollars.”
Elena stood.
“From whom?”
“An account in Liechtenstein.”
Nicholas closed his eyes.
“The Legacy Reserve.”
Rosa continued.
“There’s a note attached.”
Elena braced herself.
“What does it say?”
Rosa read the message.
For my sons. Let blood decide.
Nobody spoke.
Nicholas looked at Elena.
May you like
Dante looked at Nicholas.
And somewhere inside a Colorado supermax, Matteo Moretti had managed to reach into their lives one more time.
