Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Old Photograph
The number belonged to Elena Vale.
Sarah's older sister.
The woman everyone believed had died twelve years earlier.
Vittorio stared at Sarah.
“You knew?”
Sarah shook her head.
“No.”
“You knew Elena was alive?”
“No!”
“Then why do you recognize the number?”
Sarah's hands trembled.
“Because she called me once.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“She said you would be killed.”
Vittorio went silent.
Sarah looked at him.
“She told me never to trust Margaret.”
That sentence changed everything.
Vittorio ordered his attorneys to investigate Elena immediately.
By sunrise, they discovered something impossible.
Elena had never died.
Her death certificate had been forged.
Her bank account had been closed through a legal authorization that contained Vittorio's forged signature.
And the person who filed the death paperwork?
Margaret.
Vittorio sat in his office staring at the documents.
David stood across from him.
“You're destroying this family.”
Vittorio looked up.
“No. I'm uncovering what destroyed it.”
David laughed.
“You think Sarah is innocent?”
“I think my daughter has been frightened into silence.”
“You don't know what she's done.”
“Then tell me.”
David said nothing.
Vittorio leaned forward.
“Tell me why your mother had photographs of Sarah's injuries.”
Still nothing.
“Tell me why you sent a message saying Sarah knew.”
David's face tightened.
“You've been investigating me.”
“Yes.”
“You're going to regret it.”
Vittorio smiled.
“You're still threatening me.”
David lowered his voice.
“You should ask your daughter what happened the night Elena disappeared.”
Vittorio froze.
Because Sarah had never told him.
And neither had Margaret.
That evening, Sarah finally confessed.
Twelve years earlier, Elena had discovered that Margaret and a business partner were stealing millions from Vittorio's companies.
Elena confronted them.
Then she disappeared.
Sarah had found the evidence.
But before she could expose it, David intercepted her.
He didn't kill Elena.
He made Sarah believe he had.
And then he married her.
“Why?” Vittorio asked.
Sarah began crying.
“Because David wanted access to your estate.”
Vittorio's expression turned cold.
“And Emma?”
Sarah looked at him.
“That was never part of the plan.”
“What changed?”
“Emma was born.”
Sarah lowered her voice.
“David realized you loved her.”
Vittorio's eyes darkened.
“He intended to use my granddaughter?”
Sarah nodded.
“And Margaret helped him.”
At that moment, a knock sounded.
A woman entered.
She was older.
Thin.
Her hair streaked with gray.
Sarah gasped.
“Mom?”
The woman looked at her.
Then at Vittorio.
“I'm sorry.”
Vittorio stood.
He knew that voice.
“Elena?”
The woman nodded.
And before anyone could speak, she placed a folder on the desk.
“David doesn't know I'm alive.”
She opened it.
Inside were bank records.
Photographs.
Contracts.
And one final document.
A custody agreement.
Already signed.
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Already notarized.
The intended guardian of Emma was Margaret.
