Chapter 24 - the forgotten vault
Breakfast was served in the formal dining room under the heavy gaze of centuries of Moretti ancestors painted in oil.
Dominic sat across from Elena, sipping black espresso. He was charming, attentive, and completely poisonous. Every question he asked was a subtle probe into Elena’s past.
"So, Elena," Dominic smiled, cutting into his pastry. "Lorenzo tells me you work in administrative logistics in Queens. A modest upbringing. Where did you grow up, exactly?"
"St. Jude’s Orphanage in Buffalo," Elena answered smoothly, meeting his gaze across the table. "Left on the steps during a snowstorm in January 2000."
Dominic’s fork scraped lightly against the porcelain plate. "Buffalo. How tragic. No records of your parents at all?"
"None," Elena said. "Only a hand-stitched blanket. And a birthmark."
Dominic paused, his coffee cup hovering halfway to his mouth. "A birthmark?"
"Right here," Elena said, pointing directly to her left collarbone beneath her high-neck shirt. "A small crescent. My doctor said it's exceptionally rare."
A muscle in Dominic's temple spasmed. Before he could speak, the double doors of the dining room clicked open.
Marco walked in. His coat was damp with morning drizzle, and his face was unreadable. In his left hand, he carried a sealed Manila envelope stamped with the seal of Queens Forensic Medical Services.
The tension in the room instantly skyrocketed.
"Boss," Marco said, ignoring Dominic completely. "The analysis from Dr. Sterling is complete."
Lorenzo set his napkin on the table and stood up. "Bring it to my study."
"Wait, Lorenzo," Dominic interjected smoothly, standing up as well. "What analysis? If this concerns Clara's betrayal or family security, as your co-director, I should review it."
"This is personal family business, Dominic," Lorenzo said coldly.
Lorenzo took the envelope from Marco's hand. He didn't walk to his study. Instead, right there in the dining room, under the eyes of his brother, his head of security, and Elena, Lorenzo tore open the wax seal.
He pulled out the single sheet of paper.
Elena held her breath. The silence was so absolute that only the ticking of the antique grandfather clock could be heard.
Lorenzo read the document. His eyes traced the bottom line: *Probability of Paternity: 99.98%.*
May you like
The paper began to shake in Lorenzo's hands. He looked up slowly, looking straight past his brother, straight at Elena. Tears welled in the old mafia don's eyes, washing away twenty-four years of cold grief.
"Elena," Lorenzo breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. "You are my daughter."
