Chapter 10 - the threshold of sixteen
Thirteen years later, the autumn sun cast a warm golden light over the sprawling gardens of the Moretti estate. Red and orange leaves drifted slowly across the polished stone terrace where dozens of wealthy guests in formal attire were gathered for a grand celebration.
Violin music drifted through the crisp air, blending with the sound of laughter and clinking champagne glasses.
Standing near the edge of the grand stone fountain was Leo Moretti. Now sixteen years old, he was tall, handsome, with sharp features, intelligent blue eyes, and his mother's light blond hair. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, looking every bit the capable, dignified heir to the Moretti legacy.
Beside him stood Clara, now thirty-seven, her soft brown hair styled in an elegant updraft, wearing a stunning emerald silk dress. Around her neck, the silver locket still shone brightly in the sunlight.
Rico walked over, putting a strong, loving arm around Clara’s waist and resting his hand on his son's shoulder. At forty-five, Rico carried a few silver strands at his temples, but his presence was as commanding and powerful as ever—though his dark eyes were filled with peace.
"Happy sixteenth birthday, son," Rico said, his deep voice rich with pride.
"Thanks, Dad," Leo smiled, looking across the terrace where Dante, now grey-haired but still massive, was showing a group of young security guards how to properly inspect a perimeter.
Leo turned to Clara, pulling a small velvet box from his jacket pocket and handing it to her. "I wanted you to have this before the toasts begin."
Clara opened the velvet box. Inside was a delicate gold bracelet inlaid with small diamonds, designed to match her silver locket.
"Leo... this is beautiful," Clara said, her eyes shimmering with happy tears as she hugged him tightly.
"You gave me back my voice when I was three years old, Clara," Leo said softly, his tone filled with deep sincerity. "You gave me a real family."
Rico smiled, clinking his glass against his son's. "To family."
Suddenly, Marco, now retired but serving as a trusted family advisor, hurried across the terrace with a confidential thick black folder in his hands. He stopped beside Rico, his face pale with sudden tension.
"Mr. Moretti... excuse me, sir," Marco whispered urgently. "A courier just delivered this from the private registry in Zurich. It was sealed sixteen years ago by your late father."
Rico’s smile faded slightly. He took the black file and opened the first page.
Written across the top in dark red ink were the words: THE SECOND INHERITANCE — LEO MORETTI IS NOT THE ONLY SURVIVING HEIR.
Rico stared at the document, his breath catching in his throat. Clara looked up at him in concern, noticing the sudden shift in his expression.
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"Rico? What is it?" Clara asked softly.
Rico closed the folder slowly, looking out over the grand estate as the sun began to set over the horizon, leaving the future of the Moretti bloodline hanging on the edge of a brand-new, untold secret...
