Chapter 6: The Daughter Who Knew Nothing
I didn’t sleep.
I sat on the edge of my bed until sunrise, staring at the photograph on my kitchen table.
My mother.
The woman who taught me to make pancakes on Sunday mornings.
The woman who sang loudly even though she couldn’t carry a tune.
The woman who always said, “People show you who they are when nobody is watching.””
Now I wondered what she had been hiding when nobody was watching.
My father sat across from me.
Neither of us had said much since we left Vincent’s office.
Finally, I asked:
“How long did you know?””
He looked down.
“About the photograph?””
“Yes.””
A long silence.
“Years.””
My throat tightened.
“Years?””
“I found it after your mother died.””
I stared at him.
“You found proof that she knew Vincent Moretti and you never told me?””
“I didn’t know what it meant.””
“You could have asked me.””
“Emma, you were sixteen.””
“That doesn’t mean I was stupid.””
His eyes filled with sadness.
“I was trying to protect you.””
Everyone kept saying that.
Protect.
Protect.
Protect.
But nobody understood that secrets could hurt too.
I stood.
“No more.””
My father looked up.
“No more what?””
“No more people deciding what I can handle.””
I grabbed my coat.
“Where are you going?””
“To find the truth.””
I found Vincent at his headquarters.
This time, the receptionist didn’t look confused when I walked in.
Everyone knew my name now.
That terrified me.
Fame wasn’t always a gift.
Sometimes it was just a bigger target.
Vincent was waiting when I entered his office.
“You found out.””
I placed the photograph on his desk.
“You knew my mother.””
He didn’t deny it.
“I knew of her.””
“That’s not an answer.””
He looked at the picture.
“My father worked with your mother.””
I froze.
“My mother?””
“Yes.””
“Doing what?””
Vincent walked toward the window.
“Your mother was an accountant.””
“I know.””
“She was also one of the few people willing to challenge my father’s business practices.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
Vincent hesitated.
“My family built its empire quickly.””
“That’s a nice way of saying what?””
His eyes met mine.
“That sometimes people get hurt when powerful families grow.””
The answer made me uncomfortable.
“What did my mother discover?””
Vincent didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t have to.
I already knew.
“Money.””
He nodded.
“Missing money.””
The room became silent.
“My mother found something illegal.””
“Yes.””
“And Victoria knows?””
“She believes she does.””
I stared at him.
“Why would my father help her?””
Vincent looked away.
“Because Victoria showed him a medical bill.””
I laughed bitterly.
“So that’s it?””
“What?””
“She bought him.””
Vincent’s expression softened.
“No.””
I looked at him.
“No?””
“She found his desperation.””
The words landed differently.
Because they were true.
My father had not betrayed us because he was cruel.
He had been cornered.
That didn’t make it okay.
But it made it human.
Vincent opened a drawer.
Inside was a file.
“My mother kept records.””
I looked at it.
“About my mother?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because I didn’t know who to trust.””
I looked at him.
“You trust me now?””
He was quiet.
Then he said:
“Yes.””
The answer surprised me.
Before I could respond, the office door opened.
His assistant rushed in.
“Mr. Moretti.””
Vincent turned.
“What happened?””
“The media has the documents.””
My heart sank.
“What documents?””
The assistant looked at me.
“The financial records.””
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Already?””
“They’re publishing in ten minutes.””
The room erupted into movement.
Phones rang.
People rushed through hallways.
The world outside was about to hear a version of the truth.
A version Victoria controlled.
Vincent grabbed his jacket.
“We need to move.””
“Where?””
“To the press conference.””
I stopped.
“Why?””
He looked at me.
“Because if we don’t tell the truth first…”
May you like
He paused.
“And they destroy your mother’s name forever.””
