Chapter 7 - THE MOTHER WHO NEVER DIED
For three seconds, Emma forgot how to breathe.
Then the room exploded into movement.
Dante stepped in front of her.
Marcus drew his weapon.
Two security men rushed through the doorway.
David didn't move.
He simply stood there, holding the photograph.
“Your mother is alive,” he repeated.
Emma stared at him.
“That's impossible.”
David's smile faded.
“That's what I thought too.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
Emma's voice cracked.
“Then why did you say it?”
“Because someone wanted you to believe she was dead.”
Dante took one step forward.
“David.”
David looked at him.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You've been investigating her.”
“Yes.”
“You found the Rossi records.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me where Isabella is.”
David laughed softly.
“You really think I have all the answers?”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“No.”
He glanced at Marcus.
“Search him.”
Two guards moved toward David.
David didn't resist.
They searched his coat.
His pockets.
His phone.
Nothing.
Then Marcus found a small key taped beneath the lining of David's watch.
He removed it.
David's expression changed.
Emma noticed.
“What does that open?”
David looked at her.
“You'll have to find out.”
Dante took the key.
“Get him out.”
David laughed.
“Go ahead.”
As the guards pulled him away, he looked at Emma.
“One piece of advice.”
She stared at him.
“Don't trust anyone who knew your mother.”
The door closed behind him.
Emma stood frozen.
Dante turned toward her.
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“She could be alive.”
“Yes.”
“My mother could have been alive all these years.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“I don't know.”
Emma looked at him.
“You knew the Rossi name.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew my father was connected to them.”
“Yes.”
“You suspected I was their daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And you still told me nothing.”
Dante didn't defend himself.
Emma's eyes filled.
“I need you to understand something.”
“I do.”
“No, you don't.”
She stepped closer.
“You keep thinking protection gives you permission to make decisions for me.”
Dante remained silent.
“I don't need another man deciding what truth I can handle.”
His expression tightened.
“You're right.”
Emma looked away.
“I want to find her.”
“We will.”
“No.”
Dante paused.
“I mean I want to find her myself.”
He studied her.
Then nodded.
“Then we'll do it together.”
The words surprised her.
She looked back at him.
“Together?”
“Yes.”
“Not you protecting me while I follow?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“You ask the questions.”
“I decide what happens.”
“Yes.”
“And you tell me everything.”
Dante held her gaze.
“Everything.”
The key opened a storage facility in Queens.
The unit had been rented under a company that no longer existed.
Inside were three boxes.
One contained financial records.
One contained photographs.
The third contained personal belongings.
Emma opened the first box.
A stack of documents.
Bank statements.
Property deeds.
Medical records.
Then she saw the name.
ISABELLA ROSSI
Her hands shook.
“She was here.”
Dante stood beside her.
“Recently?”
“No.”
Emma looked at the date.
Then 2001.
After that, nothing.
She opened another folder.
A handwritten note fell out.
If Emma ever asks where I went, tell her I chose to disappear.
Emma stared.
“That doesn't sound like a mother.”
Dante picked up the note.
“No.”
She opened the second box.
Photographs.
Isabella holding a newborn.
Isabella standing beside Thomas Morrison.
Isabella with Antonio Moretti.
Then one photograph made Emma stop.
It showed a young Isabella standing beside a man Emma recognized.
Lucian Moretti.
But there was something else.
Lucian's hand rested on Isabella's shoulder.
They weren't standing like enemies.
They looked like family.
Emma turned the photograph over.
There was a date.
September 16, 1997.
Two days after Emma's birth.
Underneath:
She is safe. For now.
Emma looked at Dante.
“Your uncle knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“He knew me.”
“Yes.”
“He helped hide us.”
Dante's expression darkened.
“Or he helped separate you.”
Emma looked at him.
“What?”
Dante pointed toward the photograph.
“Look at Isabella's face.”
Emma did.
She noticed it immediately.
Fear.
Not sadness.
Fear.
“She's terrified.”
“Yes.”
“Of Lucian?”
“I don't know.”
Emma looked at another photograph.
This one showed Isabella holding baby Emma.
On the back:
Last meeting before transfer.
Emma's voice became a whisper.
“Transfer where?”
Dante found a document beneath the photograph.
A private hospital invoice.
Then another.
A flight record.
Then a name.
Eleanor Morrison.
Emma stared.
“My mother…”
“Was the woman who raised you.”
“But Isabella was my biological mother.”
“Yes.”
“Then why was Eleanor involved?”
Dante didn't answer.
Emma found another document.
A guardianship agreement.
At the bottom was Thomas Morrison's signature.
And another.
Isabella Rossi.
Emma read the first sentence.
Then her eyes widened.
“Dante.”
He came closer.
“What?”
“She gave me to my father.”
Dante read the document.
His face hardened.
“She didn't give you away.”
Emma looked at him.
“She signed temporary guardianship.”
“For how long?”
“Until you turned eighteen.”
Emma's heart pounded.
“She planned to come back.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't she?”
Dante looked at the final page.
There was one handwritten sentence.
If I return, they will kill Emma.
Emma covered her mouth.
She couldn't speak.
Dante gently took the document from her.
Then something inside the box caught his attention.
A small silver locket.
Emma picked it up.
There was a photograph inside.
Isabella.
On the other side was a handwritten message.
For my daughter.
Emma closed her eyes.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Dante didn't touch her.
He simply stood beside her.
After a moment, Emma whispered:
“I've spent my whole life thinking my mother didn't want me.”
Dante's voice was quiet.
“She wanted you enough to disappear.”
Emma looked at him.
“That doesn't make it hurt less.”
“I know.”
She stared at him for a long time.
Then she did something she hadn't done before.
She reached for his hand.
Dante's fingers closed around hers.
Neither spoke.
That night, they discovered another document.
A recent medical invoice.
The patient name had been altered.
But the date was only six weeks old.
Dante stared at it.
“She's alive.”
Emma's heart raced.
“Where?”
He looked at the hospital code.
“Boston.”
At the same moment, David sat in a holding room.
Lucian Moretti walked in.
David looked up.
“I assume you're pleased.”
Lucian ignored him.
“You showed Emma the photograph.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she deserved to know.”
Lucian smiled.
“You're beginning to sound noble.”
“I don't care what you think.”
Lucian leaned closer.
“You should.”
David's expression hardened.
“What do you want?”
“The same thing I have always wanted.”
“The Moretti empire?”
“No.”
Lucian's eyes became cold.
“Her.”
David frowned.
“Emma?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
May you like
Lucian smiled.
“Because she is the key to everything.”
