Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Basement
Rocco had ordered men killed for less than what Valentina had confessed.
Years earlier, that thought might have comforted him.
Now it disgusted him.
Violence could punish.
It could not restore nine stolen months.
It could not give Isabella back her pregnancy.
It could not erase the moment Rocco realized his own body had been used without consent.
And it could not explain why the woman he had married had believed creating a child through deception would somehow save their marriage.
Matteo closed the basement door.
“Boss?”
Rocco looked at Valentina.
“Take her phone.”
She stepped backward.
“Rocco.”
“Now.”
A guard took it.
“You’re keeping me prisoner?”
“I’m keeping you available for the police.”
That stunned everyone.
The police.
The Moretti family traditionally solved internal problems without badges.
Rocco was done with tradition.
Valentina stared.
“You would expose us?”
“There is no us.”
Her face broke.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You built this family on loyalty.”
“Exactly.”
Rocco walked away.
Upstairs, Antonio began crying.
Sophia reached him first.
Elena watched from the doorway as the girl stood beside the bassinet whispering nonsense until the baby quieted.
Rocco entered.
“Where is your mother?”
“Calling someone.”
“Who?”
“Her sister.”
Sophia looked at him.
“Are you going to find Antonio’s mom?”
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
Rocco almost said men like him did not make promises lightly.
Instead:
“Yes.”
The girl nodded as though that settled it.
Rocco wished the world obeyed eight-year-old logic.
Matteo entered with Luca’s phone location.
“Signal came on for thirty seconds.”
“Where?”
“Brooklyn.”
“Specific?”
“A private urgent-care clinic in Red Hook.”
Rocco grabbed his coat.
Elena stepped forward.
“Mr. Moretti.”
He turned.
“Antonio needs somebody he knows.”
“He knows you.”
“Barely.”
“He knows Sophia.”
The girl looked hopeful.
Rocco considered.
“Stay here.”
Elena hesitated.
“With Valentina?”
“She’ll be upstairs under guard.”
Elena nodded.
Rocco left with Matteo and four men.
Rain had turned New York streets into black mirrors.
The clinic stood behind a warehouse near the waterfront.
No sign.
No lights except one over the side entrance.
Luca opened the door before Rocco knocked.
Thirty-nine.
Dark hair like Rocco.
Same Moretti eyes.
Blood on his shirt.
Not his.
Rocco grabbed him by the collar.
“Where is she?”
Luca didn’t resist.
“Inside.”
“Isabella?”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Rocco released him.
Inside, a physician worked over a woman lying on a narrow medical bed.
Rocco stopped.
Isabella Conti looked nothing like the photograph downstairs.
She was thinner.
Pale.
Exhausted.
Dark hair damp against her forehead.
Her eyes opened.
They found Rocco.
Fear.
Not relief.
Rocco understood.
“Stay back,” Luca warned.
Rocco looked at him.
“Why?”
“She thinks you knew.”
That sentence hurt more than it should have.
Rocco remained by the door.
Isabella whispered, “You.”
Her voice was weak.
“I didn’t know.”
She turned away.
“I swear.”
Silence.
Luca said, “Valentina kept her sedated during most examinations. Private doctors. Private nurses.”
Rocco’s jaw tightened.
“And the delivery?”
“Yesterday.”
“Where?”
“Basement.”
Rocco closed his eyes.
His own house.
While he attended meetings upstairs, a woman gave birth in a hidden room beneath his feet.
“How did Antonio get outside?”
Luca answered.
“I took him.”
Rocco turned.
“What?”
“I found Isabella after the delivery.”
“You knew she was there?”
“Not until yesterday.”
“So you took my son and put him beside the trash?”
“No.”
Luca’s expression hardened.
“I took Isabella out. I thought Valentina had the baby with her.”
“Then who moved Antonio?”
“I don’t know.”
Rocco’s stomach tightened again.
Another person.
Another betrayal.
Isabella spoke weakly.
“The nurse.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What nurse?” Rocco asked.
“Red hair.”
Luca frowned.
“There wasn’t a redheaded nurse when I found her.”
Isabella tried sitting up.
The doctor stopped her.
“She took him.”
“When?”
“After he was born.”
“Name?”
“Claire.”
Rocco looked at Matteo.
“Find every nurse named Claire who entered this property.”
Matteo was already typing.
Isabella whispered, “She said she was saving him.”
“Saving him from whom?”
Isabella looked at Rocco.
“Your wife.”
Rocco exhaled.
Valentina’s plan had been worse than he knew.
“Did Valentina tell you she intended to hurt the baby?”
Isabella shook her head.
“She said she wanted him.”
“Then why would the nurse take him?”
“Because Valentina changed after the birth.”
“How?”
“She said…”
Isabella stopped.
Rocco waited.
“She said the baby looked too much like me.”
Rocco looked down.
Antonio did.
He had Isabella’s mouth.
Her chin.
Dark Moretti eyes.
Valentina had fabricated a pregnancy for months.
Loose dresses.
Private doctors.
Cancelled social appearances.
Most people assumed she was carrying Rocco’s child.
But eventually Antonio would grow.
Questions would come.
Rocco suddenly understood.
“She wanted another baby.”
Isabella nodded faintly.
“A baby that looked like her.”
His stomach turned.
“What was she going to do with Antonio?”
Isabella began crying.
“She said he would be sent away.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“And you?”
Isabella looked toward Luca.
“She said I knew too much.”
Silence.
Rocco stared at his brother.
“You got her out.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Luca laughed bitterly.
“Because for twenty years, if something happened in this family, everyone assumed Rocco Moretti approved it.”
That was fair.
Painfully fair.
Rocco looked at Isabella.
“I’m sorry.”
She gave him a tired, angry stare.
“Sorry?”
“Yes.”
“You lived upstairs.”
“I know.”
“In the same house.”
“I know.”
“I screamed.”
Rocco stopped breathing.
“What?”
“During labor.”
He could not speak.
“The walls were soundproofed,” Luca said quietly.
Rocco closed his eyes.
A basement room.
Soundproofed.
Prepared.
Not an impulsive crime.
A system.
Built under his roof.
And he had seen nothing.
Isabella whispered, “You should go.”
Rocco nodded.
“If that’s what you want.”
She looked surprised.
He turned toward Luca.
“Stay with her.”
“What?”
“She trusts you.”
“Rocco—”
“Stay.”
Luca nodded.
Outside, Matteo approached.
“We found Claire.”
“The nurse?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“She isn’t a nurse.”
Rocco frowned.
“What is she?”
“Former neonatal technician. License revoked four years ago.”
“For what?”
“Stealing infant medication.”
Rocco’s face hardened.
“Where is she now?”
“Gone.”
“Family?”
“One brother.”
“Find him.”
Matteo hesitated.
“There’s more.”
“Of course.”
“Claire Donnelly received $200,000 yesterday.”
“From Valentina?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Matteo turned his screen.
The account belonged to Bellini Household Services.
Rocco stared.
“Elena?”
“Sole account holder.”
No.
Rocco refused to believe it.
But numbers did not care what he believed.
He called the mansion.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Sophia answered Elena’s phone.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Sophia, where’s your mother?”
Silence.
“Sophia?”
“She went downstairs.”
“Why?”
“She said she needed to get something.”
“Where’s Antonio?”
“With me.”
Rocco’s pulse accelerated.
“Listen carefully. Take Antonio into my study. Lock the door.”
“Why?”
“Do it now.”
Sophia’s breathing changed.
“Okay.”
“Do not open the door for anyone except Matteo or me.”
“Even Mom?”
Rocco hesitated.
That hesitation hurt.
“Even your mother.”
Sophia became quiet.
“Did Mom do something bad?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
A minute later, Rocco received a security alert.
Someone had opened the rear service gate.
May you like
Using Elena Bellini’s employee code.
And the woman who had spent the entire night protecting his son was suddenly nowhere to be found.
