Chapter 7 - THE CHILD THEY TRIED TO ERASE
The independent DNA results arrived in less than twenty-four hours.
Vincent Moretti was Enzo’s biological father.
Probability:
99.999 percent.
Vincent read the report once.
Then handed it to his attorney.
“Release it.”
The attorney hesitated.
“Publicly?”
“Everywhere.”
Within an hour, the forged report began collapsing.
The laboratory named on the document denied performing the test.
Isabella’s signature had been copied from prenatal paperwork.
The notary number belonged to a woman who had retired four years earlier.
Someone had made a convincing lie.
Not a perfect one.
But convincing enough to create chaos.
That was the point.
Matteo still demanded a family council.
Vincent went.
So did I.
Not because I belonged there.
Because Vincent asked.
The Moretti council met in an old brownstone near Washington Square.
Eleven people sat around a long table.
Uncles.
Cousins.
Attorneys.
Executives.
Men and women who had inherited power so young they wore it like bone structure.
I wore a navy dress borrowed from Mrs. Hargrove.
Lily stayed with Dr. Romano’s wife.
Enzo remained under security.
Matteo looked at me with open disapproval.
“Domestic staff do not attend family sessions.”
Vincent pulled out a chair beside his own.
“Elena does.”
Matteo smiled faintly.
“That is becoming obvious.”
I understood the implication.
So did Vincent.
His jaw tightened.
I touched his sleeve.
Not because I needed protection.
Because I did not want Matteo controlling the room.
The attorney presented the valid DNA result.
Matteo barely glanced at it.
“Paternity was one concern.”
Vincent leaned back.
“What’s the next invented problem?”
“Your household.”
Matteo placed documents on the table.
“Your son was drugged.”
“Yes.”
“A child was abducted from your residence.”
“Yes.”
“Your fiancée disappeared.”
“Yes.”
Matteo spread his hands.
“And you believe this demonstrates competent leadership?”
There it was.
This had never only been about Enzo.
It was about Vincent.
Matteo wanted him weakened.
The family trust.
The legitimate companies.
The influence Vincent controlled.
All of it.
“You think I should step down.”
Matteo gave a sad smile.
“Temporarily.”
I almost laughed.
Apparently rich men everywhere used temporarily when they meant give me everything.
Vincent remained calm.
“No.”
Matteo turned toward the council.
“Then we must consider whether Enzo requires independent guardianship until this situation is resolved.”
My stomach tightened.
Vincent’s face went cold.
“You will not touch my son.”
“I’m trying to protect him.”
“No.”
A new voice entered from behind us.
Mrs. Hargrove.
Everyone turned.
She walked into the room carrying an old document case.
Matteo frowned.
“What is this circus?”
Mrs. Hargrove ignored him.
“Mrs. Moretti anticipated this possibility.”
Vincent stood.
“What?”
She opened the case.
Inside were notarized guardianship documents executed six weeks before Isabella died.
If Vincent remained alive and legally competent, no alternate family guardian could control Enzo’s trust.
Not Cassandra.
Not Matteo.
Not the family council.
Isabella had closed the loophole.
Matteo read the document.
His face hardened.
“This was never filed.”
“It didn’t need to be filed to be valid.”
Vincent’s attorney examined the seal.
“It’s legitimate.”
Mrs. Hargrove handed him another envelope.
“And this.”
An original DNA report.
Completed privately three weeks after Enzo’s birth.
Vincent looked at her.
“Why did Isabella do a DNA test?”
Mrs. Hargrove’s eyes softened.
“Because Cassandra had already started whispering.”
Vincent’s face changed.
“What?”
“She told Isabella that people might question Enzo’s paternity.”
“Why?”
“To frighten her.”
Mrs. Hargrove sat.
“Mrs. Moretti wanted proof stored somewhere Cassandra could never alter.”
Matteo stood.
“This meeting is finished.”
Vincent watched him.
“You’re scared.”
Matteo laughed.
“Of what?”
“Isabella.”
The room went quiet.
“She left paper everywhere.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“You never expected a dead woman to keep fighting.”
Matteo’s smile disappeared.
The council refused Matteo’s request for guardianship.
But the crisis did not end.
That evening, Vincent’s attorney received an emergency family-court filing.
Not from Matteo.
From Cassandra’s father, Edward Vale.
The petition accused Vincent of maintaining an unsafe environment for Enzo.
It cited the drugging.
The abduction.
Vincent’s criminal reputation.
Staff instability.
And confidential pediatric notes suggesting repeated unexplained sedation.
The very notes Norah had falsified.
A judge scheduled an emergency hearing in forty-eight hours.
Until then, Enzo could remain with Vincent.
Barely.
Vincent stood in his office staring at the petition.
“They built everything for this.”
“Yes.”
“The drugs.”
“Yes.”
“Norah’s logs.”
“Yes.”
“The false DNA.”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“If I lose this hearing—”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
I walked closer.
“But Cassandra made one mistake.”
“What?”
“She thought everyone around you would keep lying.”
Norah had agreed to testify.
Dr. Sorrell too.
Mrs. Hargrove had the original records.
Victor had security logs.
I had the red-tag system.
Lily had seen Cassandra.
And somewhere inside the Moretti mansion, there might still be footage.
Victor entered suddenly.
“We found something.”
Vincent turned.
“What?”
“The nursery system.”
“You said Cassandra disabled it.”
“The main camera, yes.”
Victor placed a laptop on the desk.
“But Enzo’s breathing monitor had a separate cloud backup.”
My heart began pounding.
“It records?”
“Short clips when sound levels spike.”
He pressed play.
Timestamp:
The morning I collapsed.
Enzo crying.
Norah leaving.
Then Cassandra entering.
White gloves.
She approached the warming tray.
Removed the red tag.
Opened the bottle.
My breath stopped.
She took something from her purse.
Added drops.
Retied the cloth.
Then walked toward the kitchen.
The clip ended.
Vincent’s face became stone.
Victor loaded the next triggered recording.
Two minutes later.
Enzo screaming louder.
Lily entering the nursery.
No Cassandra.
Then another sound came through the microphone from the kitchen.
My body hitting the floor.
Vincent shut the laptop.
“We have her.”
Victor’s expression remained grim.
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have Cassandra tampering with the bottle.”
“Then what?”
Victor took a breath.
“We also found footage from four months ago.”
He played another clip.
Isabella stood in the nursery.
Arguing with Cassandra.
Their voices were faint but audible.
“You tell Matteo I’m done.”
Cassandra answered:
“You don’t understand what he’ll do.”
“I understand exactly.”
“Isabella—”
“If anything happens to me, Vincent gets everything.”
Cassandra stepped closer.
“No.”
Her voice trembled.
“If anything happens to you, Matteo gets rid of Vincent next.”
The clip ended.
Vincent stared at the screen.
The room felt cold.
Cassandra had not been running the entire plan.
She had been working for someone.
And Isabella had named him months before she died.
May you like
Matteo Moretti.
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