Chapter 7 - Elaine Fields
My mother opened the door herself.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
“Cara.”
I slapped her.
Nobody stopped me.
She touched her cheek.
Then nodded once.
“I deserved that.”
“No. You deserved eight years of wondering whether your daughter could afford food.”
Her eyes filled.
“Come inside.”
“I buried you.”
“I know.”
“You let me stand over an empty coffin.”
“It wasn’t empty.”
That stopped me.
“Whose body?”
She looked at Dante.
“His aunt.”
Dante stepped forward.
“My father’s sister?”
“Lucia Moretti.”
Lucia supposedly died overseas thirty years earlier.
Apparently not.
Elaine explained.
Lucia discovered Samuel Fields’s real identity.
Samuel was actually Salvatore Vale, a financial architect tied to several powerful families.
Daniel Vale was his younger brother.
My great-uncle.
That made Daniel blood.
And Vanessa?
Elaine hesitated.
“Daniel’s daughter.”
Dante stared.
“Vanessa Vale.”
“Yes.”
My mind raced.
Vanessa was my cousin.
She had secretly arranged for me to work inside her restaurant.
Why?
“Because she needed you close.”
“For what?”
“Meridian.”
There it was again.
My grandfather—Salvatore—had built the trust.
He structured Moretti Global so neither Alessandro Moretti nor the Vale family could control it alone.
Two family signatures were required for certain foundational assets.
One Moretti.
One Vale.
When Salvatore disappeared, Alessandro took operational control.
But legally, the Vale rights remained.
Passed eventually to my mother.
Then to me.
“You’re saying I own part of Moretti Global?”
“Potentially.”
Dante didn’t look angry.
He looked fascinated.
“How much?”
Elaine answered:
“Forty-nine percent of the original holding company.”
I laughed.
It sounded ridiculous.
Yesterday I had worried whether my landlord would charge a late fee.
Today people were telling me I might own half a billionaire’s empire.
“Why disappear?”
Elaine’s expression darkened.
“Because Vanessa tried to kill me.”
Dante stiffened.
“Eight years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Then why work with her afterward?”
I pointed to the Geneva photograph.
Elaine stared.
“That isn’t Vanessa.”
“What?”
“Her name is Valeria.”
Daniel Vale had two daughters.
Identical twins.
Vanessa and Valeria.
Vanessa married Dante.
Valeria disappeared from public records years earlier.
The woman in Geneva was Valeria.
My mother had been working with her.
“To do what?”
“Stop Vanessa.”
A car engine suddenly roared outside.
Grant drew his weapon.
Black SUV.
Then another.
Dante moved me behind him.
But the woman stepping from the first SUV wasn’t Vanessa.
She had Vanessa’s exact face.
Different hair.
No diamonds.
She entered with both hands visible.
“Dante.”
He stared.
“Valeria?”
“Yes.”
Then she looked at me.
“Cara.”
“How do I know you’re not Vanessa?”
She smiled sadly.
“You don’t.”
Fair answer.
Then she placed a phone on the table.
Security footage played.
It showed Vanessa at Bellini’s.
Owen across from her.
But when the audio started, the conversation was different from what I remembered.
Vanessa said:
“The brakes?”
Owen answered:
“Cut just enough. They’ll fail on the mountain road.”
Same words.
Then came a sentence I had never heard.
Vanessa leaned closer.
“Make sure Cara follows him.”
My blood went cold.
Dante slowly turned toward me.
Valeria whispered:
“Your rescue wasn’t an accident.”
May you like
She looked at Dante.
“It was the plan.”
