Chapter 5: The Photograph That Changed Everything
I barely slept that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the photograph I hadn't looked at in twelve years.
Daniel Moretti holding a newborn baby.
His expression had been tender, almost disbelieving, as though he had discovered something precious and terrifying at the same time.
I had never understood why he'd given me that picture.
At the time, I believed he wanted me to keep it because he feared his family would destroy it.
Now I wondered whether he'd been trying to tell me something.
At six in the morning, Alessandro found me sitting in the kitchen with a cup of untouched coffee.
Livia was asleep upstairs under the watchful eye of her nanny.
Alessandro placed a folder on the table.
“The police interviewed Bianca and Marcus separately last night.””
I looked up.
“What did they say?””
“Both denied knowing anything about the forged laboratory report. Marcus claims Bianca hired him to obtain private financial records. Bianca claims Marcus fabricated the report to blackmail her.””
“Do you believe either of them?””
“No.””
He sat across from me.
“But the investigator found something else. Bianca transferred a large sum of money to a private laboratory six weeks ago. The payment was made through one of Marcus's companies.””
I stared at the folder.
“So she arranged the test herself.””
“That's what it appears to be.””
He opened the file.
There were photographs of bank transfers, copies of emails, and a list of phone calls between Bianca and Marcus.
One message stood out.
The child must be removed before the wedding. Once the marriage is complete, Alessandro will be too distracted to resist.
I felt sick.
“Removed where?””
“The boarding facility.””
Alessandro slid another document across the table.
It was the original application.
This time, the signature line was blank.
“Bianca had arranged everything in advance,” he said.
“The forged signature was added later.””
“Why would she go to such lengths?””
“Because she believed marrying me would give her control over my estate. Livia complicated that plan.””
He paused.
“Bianca knew I would never abandon my daughter willingly. So she tried to make me believe Livia wasn't mine.””
I stared at the photograph of Bianca and Marcus.
“She wanted you to reject your own child.””
“Yes.””
“And if that didn't work?””
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“Then she planned to send Livia away and tell me it was for her own good.””
I covered my mouth.
For a long moment, the only sound was the refrigerator humming in the adjoining room.
Then Alessandro looked at me.
“There's something else we need to discuss.””
I already knew what he meant.
“Daniel.””
He nodded.
“Why did you never tell me about the photograph?””
“Because I didn't understand it.””
“Do you still have it?””
“I think so.””
He looked surprised.
“Where?””
“In a box at my apartment. I haven't opened it in years.””
“Then we'll go get it.””
I hesitated.
“Alessandro, I need to tell you something first.””
He waited.
“I was pregnant before we met.””
He didn't move.
“I know Livia isn't your biological daughter,” I continued, forcing the words out.
“Her father was someone I dated briefly. He left before I knew I was pregnant, and I've never heard from him again.””
Alessandro stared at me.
“Why are you telling me this now?””
“Because Bianca has already used Livia to hurt you. I won't let her turn my past into another weapon.””
He was quiet for a long time.
Then he reached across the table and took my hand.
“Rosalie, I fell in love with you knowing you had a daughter. I never asked you to prove that she was mine.””
Tears filled my eyes.
“But what if Daniel's photograph means—”
“Then we'll find out what it means.””
He squeezed my hand.
“And whatever the answer is, it won't change the fact that Livia is the little girl who calls me Daddy.””
I began to cry.
He came around the table and held me until I could breathe again.
An hour later, we drove to my apartment with two security vehicles following us.
The building was small, with peeling paint around the entrance and a narrow staircase that always smelled faintly of detergent.
Alessandro had visited many times, but he had never seen the storage closet where I kept my old belongings.
I opened the door.
Dust rose into the air.
Cardboard boxes were stacked against the wall, each labeled in my handwriting.
School records.
Winter clothes.
Old photographs.
I knelt beside the last box and removed the lid.
Inside were several books, a faded scarf, and a small envelope sealed with yellowed tape.
My hands trembled.
Alessandro knelt beside me.
“Is that it?””
“Yes.””
I turned the envelope over.
My name was written across the front in Daniel's handwriting.
Rosalie. Open this only when you are ready to know the truth.
I had never opened it because, after Daniel died, I was afraid his secrets might drag me into a scandal that would endanger my unborn child.
Now I broke the seal.
Inside was a photograph, a handwritten letter, and a folded hospital document.
I lifted the photograph first.
Daniel was sitting in a hospital bed, holding a newborn baby wrapped in a blue blanket.
His eyes were tired, but he was smiling.
On the back, he had written:
My son, born at 3:14 a.m. The only good thing I've ever done.
I turned to the hospital document.
It was a birth certificate.
The child's name was Daniel Alexander Moretti.
The mother was listed as an unidentified woman.
The father was Daniel Moretti.
I stared at the paper.
“What does this mean?””
Alessandro took it from me.
His expression changed as he read the document.
“Daniel had a son.””
I nodded slowly.
“But why would he give this to me?””
I unfolded the letter.
The first few lines were difficult to read because the ink had faded.
Then I reached a sentence that made my heart stop.
Rosalie, if anything happens to me, find my son. His mother is gone, and the only person I trust to protect him is you.
I looked at Alessandro.
“His son was alive when Daniel wrote this.””
Alessandro's face had gone pale.
“Where is he now?””
I searched the letter for an answer.
Daniel explained that the child's mother had died shortly after giving birth. He had arranged for a trusted friend to care for the baby while he dealt with a dangerous dispute involving his family's business.
He had planned to bring his son home.
But he died before he could.
The final paragraph was written in a different ink.
My brother Alessandro must never know the truth until I can explain everything myself. He believes I betrayed him, and I have no way to convince him otherwise. If he discovers the boy before I can make things right, he may lose everything he has spent his life protecting.
Alessandro read the sentence twice.
“I thought Daniel died because he was drunk and speeding,” he whispered.
I looked at him.
“Wasn't that what the police said?””
“Yes.””
He turned the letter over.
At the bottom was a name.
The name of the person Daniel had trusted to care for his son.
Bianca Laurent.
My stomach dropped.
“No.””
Alessandro took the letter from me.
His face became terrifyingly still.
“She knew about Daniel's son.””
“She may have raised him,” I whispered.
He immediately called Marco.
“Find every record connected to Daniel's son. Birth certificates, school records, medical files. I want to know where that child went after Daniel died.””
He listened.
Then he added, “And find out whether Bianca Laurent ever had a child.””
I watched him end the call.
“Alessandro, if Bianca was involved in raising Daniel's son, why would she try to remove Livia?””
He looked at the letter.
“Because she may have believed Daniel's son was entitled to something that belonged to me.””
“Your inheritance?””
“Possibly.””
He stared at the photograph again.
“But there's something I don't understand.””
“What?””
“Daniel wrote that the child's mother was dead. Yet the hospital document lists no mother's name.””
I leaned over the paper.
He was right.
The birth certificate had been altered.
The original mother's name had been covered with a strip of white correction tape.
Someone had deliberately erased it.
I looked at the letter again.
Then I noticed something written in the margin, almost invisible beneath the fold.
A short sentence.
The boy has her eyes.
I looked at Alessandro.
“Whose eyes?””
He didn't answer.
He was staring at the photograph.
The newborn had pale gray eyes, nearly identical to the ones Alessandro himself had inherited from their mother.
But that wasn't what frightened him.
He had recognized something else.
A tiny crescent-shaped birthmark just beneath the baby's left ear.
I had seen that mark before.
On Livia.
I stood so quickly that the photograph slipped from my hands.
“No,” I whispered.
Alessandro caught the picture before it reached the floor.
He looked from the newborn to me.
Then he said the words that made the room feel suddenly airless.
“Rosalie, this photograph was taken twelve years ago.””
I nodded, unable to speak.
“Livia is seven.””
“Yes.””
He held the photograph tightly.
“Then whose child was Daniel holding?””
Before I could answer, Marco called back.
Alessandro put the phone on speaker.
“Sir, I've found something.””
“What?””
“The hospital record was altered after Daniel's death. The original birth entry lists a different date and a different name for the child.””
Alessandro's voice became cold.
“Whose name?””
Marco hesitated.
Then he read it aloud.
“Livia Rosalie Moretti.””
I stopped breathing.
Alessandro stared at me.
The photograph trembled in his hand.
And from somewhere deep inside the apartment, my phone began to ring.
May you like
The caller ID showed a number I had not seen in twelve years.
A number belonging to the hospital where Daniel Moretti's son had been born.
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