Chapter 8 - THE NAME SHE HAD NEVER KNOWN|
Clara didn't recognize the company.
The document listed her full legal name, her date of birth, and an address in Pennsylvania.
But the signature looked disturbingly familiar.
It was hers.
Not an approximation.
Not a forgery that had copied her handwriting from a recent document.
It was the exact signature she had used as a teenager.
The same unusual curve beneath the letter B.
She looked at Aurelio.
"I've never seen this."
"Matteo claims you were connected to Bellara long before we met."
"He's lying."
"Then explain the signature."
"I can't."
Aurelio's eyes hardened.
For the first time, Clara saw uncertainty in his expression.
Margaret took the document from his hand.
"Any further questions will go through my office."
Aurelio looked at her.
"This is a family matter."
"No. It became a legal matter when your family attached my client's identity to a financial crime."
Thomas stepped forward.
"Mr. Marchetti, you need to leave."
Aurelio stared at Clara for several seconds.
Then he turned.
But at the doorway, he stopped.
"Your mother."
Clara frowned.
"What about her?"
"Was she involved in financial administration?"
The question struck her unexpectedly.
Her mother had died when Clara was seventeen. She had worked as an administrative assistant for a private investment company in Philadelphia.
Clara had never known much about her job.
"Why?"
Aurelio looked at the document.
"Because Bellara was originally registered through a company that belonged to your mother's employer."
Clara felt the floor disappear beneath her.
The next morning, she traveled to Philadelphia with Margaret.
They visited the house where Clara had grown up.
It had been sold years earlier, but the new owner had kept several boxes of documents left behind in the basement.
One contained her mother's old employment records.
Another held photographs.
And inside a small wooden box was a letter addressed to Clara.
Her mother's handwriting.
She recognized it immediately.
My darling girl,
If you're reading this, something has happened that I hoped you would never have to face. There are people who believe money gives them the right to own other people's lives. I worked for them once. I thought I was protecting my family by keeping quiet. I was wrong.
Clara's hands began trembling.
She read on.
There is a ledger. It records the original Bellara transactions. I hid it because the men who controlled the company wanted to erase every trace of what happened. Your father helped me protect it. If you ever find it, don't trust the Marchettis. Not even the one who tells you he loves you.
Clara stopped reading.
Margaret looked at her.
"Your father?"
Clara had always been told her father died before she was born.
She turned the letter over.
There was an address and a name.
Edward Bennett.
Below it was a telephone number.
Her mother had written one final sentence.
He is not dead, Clara. He has been waiting for you.
Clara sat down.
For seventeen years, she had believed she was an orphan.
Now she discovered that the man she had never known might still be alive.
She called the number.
A man's voice answered.
"Hello?"
Clara swallowed.
"Is this Edward Bennett?"
There was a long silence.
"Who is asking?"
"My name is Clara."
The man stopped breathing for a moment.
May you like
Then he whispered something that made her blood turn cold.
"Your mother promised she would never let you marry into that family."
