PART 12 — The Servant Who Remembered Everything
By sunrise, every employee in the Moretti mansion was seated in the formal dining room.
Housekeepers. Drivers. Security staff. Kitchen workers. Groundskeepers. Nurses. Even the old gardener, Mr. Ellis, who had worked for the Moretti family since before Dominic was born.
Dominic stood at the head of the room with federal agents behind him.
Sophie sat in the corner with Lucia on her lap and Matteo asleep against her chest.
No one looked innocent.
That was the problem with fear.
It made honest people look guilty.
Dominic placed the tiny camera on the polished table.
“This was found in my children’s nursery,” he said. “Someone put it there before last night.”
No one spoke.
His eyes moved slowly across the room.
“I am going to ask one time. Who brought Carina into my house?”
A young maid began crying.
The chef crossed himself.
One driver stared at the floor.
Then Mr. Ellis, the old gardener, lifted his head.
“She didn’t come in through the house.”
Dominic turned.
“What did you say?”
Mr. Ellis swallowed. His hands shook, spotted with age and soil.
“There are old service tunnels beneath the east wing. From the Prohibition years. Your grandfather used them. Your father sealed most of them, but not all.”
Dominic’s face tightened.
“You knew this?”
“I knew they existed. I didn’t know anyone else did.”
Sophie looked at Lucia.
The little girl had gone very still.
“Dark room,” she whispered.
Every adult turned toward her.
Sophie gently touched her hair. “Sweetheart?”
Lucia looked at the floor.
“The lady kept me in the dark room before Miss Evelyn.”
Dominic’s voice changed. “In this house?”
Lucia nodded once.
The room went cold.
Dominic stepped back as if the mansion itself had betrayed him.
“My daughter was held under my own roof?”
Mr. Ellis covered his mouth.
“No,” he whispered. “God help us.”
Agents moved immediately. The east wing was searched first. Behind a wine cellar shelf, they found a rusted iron door. Behind that, a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
Dominic wanted to go first.
Sophie stopped him.
“Lucia should not see your rage when you come back up.”
He looked at her.
Then, for once, he listened.
The agents descended with flashlights.
Ten minutes later, one called up.
“We found a room.”
Sophie felt Lucia’s small fingers dig into her sleeve.
Dominic disappeared down the stairs.
He returned twenty minutes later carrying something wrapped in a faded yellow blanket.
Not a child.
A box.
He placed it on the dining table.
Inside were hospital bracelets, copied birth certificates, photographs of Lucia as an infant, and dozens of letters written in Alessia’s handwriting.
But none of the letters had been sent.
Sophie picked one up carefully.
It was addressed to Dominic.
The first line made her chest tighten.
If Carina has my daughter, do not kill her. That is what Victor wants.
Dominic looked away.
Sophie read on.
Alessia had known Carina was unstable, but she had also known something worse: Carina was not working alone. Victor had weaponized her grief. Evelyn Shaw had hidden the children. Bianca had handled the family lies.
But there was a fourth person.
Someone Alessia never named.
She called them only The Priest.
Dominic frowned. “We don’t have a priest.”
Mr. Ellis went white.
Sophie saw it.
So did Dominic.
“Ellis,” Dominic said quietly.
The old man trembled.
“Your father,” Ellis whispered. “He used to bring a man here. Not a real priest. That’s just what they called him. He fixed problems. Made records vanish. Changed names. Moved people.”
Dominic’s eyes darkened. “Where is he now?”
Ellis shook his head. “I thought he died years ago.”
One of the agents lifted another envelope from the box.
“This one has a recent postmark.”
Dominic took it.
Inside was a photograph of Lucia as a baby, wrapped in the yellow blanket.
On the back was a message.
The father pays for the sins of the bloodline.
Sophie looked at Dominic.
“What did your father do?”
Dominic did not answer.
Because at that moment, the mansion phone rang.
No one moved.
Dominic picked it up.
A man’s voice came through the speaker.
Old. Calm. Almost amused.
“Hello, Dominic.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“Who is this?”
The voice chuckled softly.
“The man your wife died trying to expose.”
Sophie stepped closer.
The voice continued.
“Tell Sophie Lane to stop asking questions.”
Dominic went still.
The man knew Sophie’s name.
Then the voice said the one thing that made Sophie’s knees nearly give out.
“Or I will tell her what really happened to Leo.”