Chapter 4 - ISABELLA LEFT MORE THAN A WILL
Isabella’s email had been inactive for eleven months.
Or so I believed.
Dante showed me the access history.
New York.
Connecticut.
Manhattan.
The account had been opened seventeen times since her death.
Most sessions lasted less than five minutes.
Messages were deleted afterward.
One recovered draft contained only six words:
THE BOYS CANNOT REMAIN WITH MATTEO.
I stared until the letters blurred.
Emma stood behind me.
“Could Isabella have written that before she died?”
“No.”
I knew her writing.
Her rhythms.
She never called me Matteo in English sentences unless she was angry.
And even angry, she would have written:
The boys can’t stay with Matteo.
Not cannot remain.
Too formal.
Too deliberate.
“Who had her password?” Julia asked.
“Me.”
“Anyone else?”
I thought.
“Her sister.”
Victoria.
Dante’s eyes sharpened.
“Anyone on staff?”
“Her personal assistant.”
“Name?”
“Claudia Voss.”
Claudia left employment three weeks after the funeral.
Now she worked for the Bellini Family Foundation.
Victoria’s foundation.
That looked terrible.
Too terrible.
I called Victoria.
She answered angrily.
“If this is about withdrawing the petition—”
“Did you access Isabella’s email?”
Silence.
“What?”
“Answer.”
“No.”
“Does Claudia?”
Another silence.
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong.”
“Matteo—”
“Someone sent your attorney evidence from Isabella’s account.”
Her voice changed.
“What?”
“You didn’t know.”
Not a question.
“I swear to you.”
For once, I believed her.
“If Claudia did this—”
“Don’t call her.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know who she talks to first.”
Victoria understood.
That night, Dante monitored Claudia’s communications legally through information provided voluntarily by Victoria after Claudia was suspended from foundation systems.
Within two hours, Claudia called a man.
Not Greco.
Not a lawyer.
Anthony Moretti.
My cousin.
Chief financial officer of Moretti Holdings.
My father’s godson.
The man who had handled Isabella’s estate after her death.
My stomach went cold.
“What does Anthony have to do with this?”
Dante looked at me.
“We’re finding out.”
Julia found the answer in Isabella’s will.
Not the public one.
The trust annex.
Isabella inherited approximately forty million dollars from her father.
She placed most of it in trust for the triplets.
I knew that.
What I did not know was how the trust worked.
If I remained sole guardian, I controlled distributions for the boys’ health, education, and care.
If I lost guardianship?
Control transferred to an independent trustee.
“Who?” I asked.
Julia turned the page.
“Anthony Moretti.”
I laughed once.
No humor.
“And he can invest it?”
“Within broad guidelines.”
“How broad?”
“Very.”
Anthony managed investment funds.
Forty million under his control meant fees.
Influence.
But still not enough to risk a custody conspiracy.
Then Julia found the second clause.
If all three boys lived outside my custody for more than six consecutive months, my voting proxy over Isabella’s inherited shares in Moretti Development terminated.
“How many shares?”
“Eleven percent.”
My chest tightened.
I already controlled forty-six percent.
Anthony and two allies controlled forty-four.
Eleven shifted the company.
“He gets control.”
“If he secures the proxy through the trust, potentially.”
There it was.
Not children.
Power.
My sons were votes.
Emma stood across the room.
“They’re two.”
“I know.”
“You’re saying someone is trying to take three grieving toddlers from their father because of shares?”
“Yes.”
Her face changed.
Disgust.
Pure.
“You people are insane.”
Under other circumstances, I might have objected to “you people.”
Not tonight.
“You’re correct.”
We needed proof.
So we gave Anthony what he wanted.
I announced publicly that the guardianship petition had forced me to consider temporarily stepping back from Moretti Holdings.
The next morning, Anthony arrived at my office.
Concerned.
Brotherly.
False.
“Matteo.”
He hugged me.
I almost broke his arm.
Instead, I hugged back.
“I heard about Victoria.”
“Everyone has.”
“This is terrible.”
“Yes.”
“If you need someone to handle things while you focus on the boys…”
There it was.
“So generous.”
His smile tightened.
“I’m family.”
Family.
The most dangerous word I knew.
He continued:
“Maybe Victoria isn’t wrong about one thing.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“The boys need stability.”
“Meaning?”
“A quieter house. Less security. Less exposure to our world.”
“Our world?”
“You know.”
“The world you profit from?”
He smiled.
“You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t take it out on me.”
I leaned back.
“What do you suggest?”
He relaxed.
“Let Victoria take them temporarily.”
I almost stood.
Instead, I asked:
“And the company?”
“I’ll manage.”
“For how long?”
“Until you’re ready.”
“Convenient.”
His eyes sharpened.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
We let him leave.
Dante had recorded everything.
Still not enough.
Suggesting guardianship was not conspiracy.
Then Emma came into my office holding Leo.
“What happened?”
“He found something.”
Leo clutched an old silver phone.
Isabella’s phone.
I had not seen it since the funeral.
“Where did you get that?”
Leo pointed toward the nursery.
“Mama.”
My chest tightened.
Emma explained.
“There’s a loose panel under the built-in shelves. He shoved a toy behind it. When I moved the panel, the phone was there.”
Isabella had hidden her phone?
Why?
It still powered on when connected to a charger.
Locked.
I knew the code.
Our wedding date.
The phone opened.
Messages.
Photographs.
Voice notes.
The final video was recorded two days before she died.
Isabella sat inside her car.
Her face looked tense.
“Matteo.”
My heart stopped.
“If you find this, it means I didn’t get the chance to tell you.”
Emma stepped back.
I could barely breathe.
Isabella continued.
“I found something in Anthony’s accounts.”
Her voice shook.
“He’s been moving money out of the boys’ trust before it’s even fully funded.”
I stared.
How?
Anthony had helped prepare the trust structures before her death.
“He says it’s temporary borrowing.”
She looked toward the car window.
“I don’t believe him.”
A pause.
“I told Claudia. That may have been a mistake.”
My blood cooled.
Claudia already knew.
Isabella continued:
“If anything happens to me, do not let Anthony control the boys’ money.”
My hands began shaking.
Then her voice softened.
“And Matteo…”
I closed my eyes.
“You cannot keep loving the boys from another room.”
The sentence destroyed me.
“You think protecting us means carrying everything alone. It doesn’t.”
Emma quietly turned away.
Isabella continued:
“Come home more.”
A tiny smile.
“Get dirty.”
My throat closed.
“Let them climb on you.”
A tear ran down my face.
“Be their father, not only the man who pays for everything.”
The video ended.
For almost a minute, no one spoke.
Then Dante’s phone rang.
He listened.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“Anthony just boarded a private flight.”
“Where?”
“Zurich.”
Running.
Because somehow he knew we had found the phone.
Then another message arrived.
The mansion security system.
FIRE ALARM — EAST NURSERY.
Emma turned white.
“The boys.”
We ran.
Smoke filled the upstairs hallway.
May you like
And somewhere beyond it, three toddlers were screaming.
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