I continued before he could speak.
“I did not believe him.
There had been no bleeding, no pain, nothing that matched what he claimed.
I went to another physician the same afternoon.
My baby was alive and healthy.”
My voice nearly failed on the final word, but I refused to let it.
“Two hours later, Marco came to my hotel.
He said Luca wanted confirmation that I had left the state.”
Marco looked at Luca.
“I was following Carlo’s instructions.
I believed they came from you.”
“Did you confirm the miscarriage?” Luca asked.
Marco hesitated.
That hesitation condemned him.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Luca crossed the distance between them so quickly that the sales staff gasped.
He caught Marco by the front of his coat and drove him back against a display pillar.
Several guards moved instinctively, then stopped because no one knew whom they were supposed to protect anymore.
“You told me she had lost my child.”
Marco’s face tightened.
“Carlo showed me the report.”
“You looked me in the eye.”
“I believed it.”
“You wanted to believe it.”
Samuel spoke before violence could erupt.
“Mr.
Moretti, the order applies to everyone in this room.
Any assault will complicate the trust proceedings and Isabella’s protection request.”
Luca released Marco.
The effort it took was visible.
Marco straightened his coat, but whatever authority he had carried into the boutique was gone.
A court officer removed the weapon from his shoulder holster and escorted him toward the entrance.
Vanessa watched him go, then attempted a softer approach.
She stepped toward Luca with glistening eyes.
“Carlo manipulated all of us.
I admit I heard him discuss Isabella, but he told me she had stolen from you.
He said she planned to use a pregnancy to seize control of the family.
I was trying to protect you.”
Luca looked at her hand as she reached for him.
She stopped before touching his sleeve.
“The recording was made in your apartment,” I said.
Vanessa’s gaze snapped toward me.
I removed a photograph from the folder and placed it on the crib.
It showed Carlo entering her Manhattan penthouse three weeks before the forged transfers appeared.
A second image showed Marco arriving later that night.
A third showed Vanessa leaving the clinic where I had been given the false report.
“You followed me there,” I said.
“The clinic’s rear camera captured your car.”
“That proves nothing.”
“The driver testified this morning.”
Her confidence fractured.
“He would never testify against the Sinclair family.”
Samuel’s expression remained neutral.
“He already has.”
