Chapter 5: The Brother Nobody Knew Existed
The name written on the back of the photograph was only five letters.
Five letters that turned Adrian Moretti into someone I barely recognized.
*Luca.*
He stared at the faded ink like it was a weapon pointed directly at him.
“No.””
The word came out quietly.
Almost like a prayer.
Almost like he could erase the truth by refusing to say it.
Marco stepped closer.
“What does it say?””
Adrian didn’t answer.
His fingers tightened around the photograph.
I had seen Adrian angry.
I had seen him cold.
I had seen him walk into a room full of powerful people and make them nervous without saying a word.
But I had never seen him look afraid.
Not until now.
“Adrian.””
My voice brought him back.
He looked at me.
And for a moment, I saw something I had never seen before.
A child.
A son who had just discovered his entire family history was a lie.
“My parents only had one child.””
Marco took the photograph from him carefully.
“Are you sure?””
Adrian looked at him.
“My mother told me.””
His voice cracked slightly.
“She told me every story about my childhood. Every birthday. Every hospital visit. Every family memory.””
He swallowed.
“She never mentioned another child.””
I looked at the photograph.
A young Richard Moretti stood beside his wife, Elena.
They looked happy.
Not like the Moretti family I knew.
Not like the cold, powerful dynasty built on money and control.
They looked normal.
And between them was a baby.
A baby they had hidden.
“Maybe it’s fake,” I said.
Adrian looked at me.
The hope in his eyes lasted less than a second.
Then disappeared.
“No.””
The certainty surprised me.
“How do you know?””
He touched the photograph.
“My mother’s ring.””
I looked closer.
The woman in the photograph wore a thin gold ring.
“The same one she wore every day.””
He turned the picture over.
The date was written beneath the name.
Twenty-nine years ago.
Before Adrian became the heir to Moretti Capital.
Before the empire.
Before everything.
Marco was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said:
“Luca Moretti.””
Adrian looked at him.
“What?””
Marco stared at the photo.
“I’ve heard that name before.””
My eyes moved between them.
“From where?””
Marco hesitated.
And I knew immediately.
It was another secret.
Another thing Adrian didn’t know.
“Marco.””
He sighed.
“Years ago, before I worked with Adrian, I heard rumors.””
“What kind of rumors?”” Adrian asked.
Marco looked uncomfortable.
“About Richard Moretti having another son.””
The room went silent.
Adrian’s expression changed.
“You knew?””
“No.””
Marco shook his head quickly.
“I knew people talked. That’s all.””
“You never told me?””
“Because I thought it was gossip.””
Adrian laughed once.
But there was no humor.
“Everyone knew something except me.””
The words hit harder than he probably intended.
Because I understood that feeling.
For two months, I had lived with the belief that Adrian chose to leave me.
Now I was discovering he had been manipulated too.
The difference was…
He had hurt me while someone else was hurting him.
A knock came at the door.
The hospital security officer stepped inside.
“Mr. Moretti?””
Adrian turned.
“Yes?””
“We reviewed the footage.””
“And?””
The officer looked at me.
“Before we continue, I need to confirm something.””
“What?””
“Did you know anyone who might have access to your medical information?””
I looked down.
My mind immediately went through names.
Friends.
Coworkers.
Doctors.
Family.
Then one name appeared.
Rachel Whitmore.
My divorce lawyer.
“I don’t know.””
The officer nodded.
“The person who entered this room used authorized access.””
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Meaning?””
“Meaning they were not breaking in.””
A cold feeling settled in my chest.
“They had permission.””
The officer continued.
“We’re trying to identify whose credentials were used.””
Adrian crossed his arms.
“Show me the footage.””
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Show me.””
The officer looked at Marco.
Then handed over the tablet.
The screen showed the hallway outside the ultrasound room.
Time stamp.
Ten minutes before we arrived.
A figure entered.
A woman.
She wore a long coat.
Her face was partially hidden.
But the walk.
The posture.
The way she moved.
I recognized it.
My heart stopped.
“No.””
Adrian looked at me.
“What?””
I stared at the screen.
“That’s impossible.””
“Claire?””
I pointed.
“That’s Vanessa.””
Everyone became silent.
Adrian looked at the footage.
Then at Vanessa.
She was still standing outside the room.
Her face changed.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Fear.
“You were here.””
Vanessa didn’t deny it.
“Yes.””
Adrian stepped toward her.
“Why?””
She looked at him.
“I came to warn you.””
“You came into Claire’s appointment room.””
“I didn’t touch anything.””
“But you accessed her records.””
Vanessa looked away.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
Adrian noticed.
“What aren’t you telling us?””
Vanessa’s eyes filled with frustration.
“You still don’t understand.””
“Then make me understand.””
She took a breath.
“I wasn’t the one who accessed her records.””
“Then why were you there?””
Her voice dropped.
“Because I was trying to find out who did.””
Nobody spoke.
I looked at her.
“Why would you care?””
Vanessa looked at me.
And for the first time, I saw something unexpected.
Regret.
“Because I know what they’re capable of.””
Adrian’s voice became colder.
“Who?””
Vanessa looked at him.
“Your father.””
The words hit the room.
Again.
Always his father.
Richard Moretti.
The man who smiled at charity events.
The man whose name was engraved on buildings.
The man who had taught Adrian everything about power.
“You’re blaming a dead man?””
Vanessa’s expression changed.
“I’m saying his secrets didn’t die with him.””
Adrian froze.
“What?””
She reached into her bag.
This time, she pulled out a small key.
Old.
Metal.
Worn.
She placed it in Adrian’s hand.
“I found this in your mother’s belongings.””
Adrian stared at it.
“My mother’s?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
Vanessa hesitated.
“In the storage room your family sealed after her funeral.””
My stomach tightened.
“How did you get inside?””
She looked at Adrian.
“Because your mother asked me to.””
The silence afterward was deafening.
Adrian stared at her.
“My mother knew you?””
“Yes.””
“That’s impossible.””
“No.””
Vanessa’s voice softened.
“She knew me very well.””
I watched Adrian struggle to process another impossible truth.
His mother.
The woman he loved.
The woman he believed he knew.
Had secrets.
Secrets involving Vanessa.
Secrets involving another child.
Secrets involving his father.
“What’s inside?”” Adrian asked.
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don’t know.””
“Then why give it to me?””
“Because she told me one day you would need it.””
Adrian looked at the key.
“And you waited until now?””
Vanessa’s eyes moved to me.
“No.””
She looked back at him.
“I tried to give it to you three years ago.””
My heart stopped.
Adrian noticed too.
“What?””
Vanessa’s voice became quiet.
“The night before your wedding anniversary.””
Adrian went still.
“The night you filed for divorce.””
Nobody moved.
Because suddenly, that timeline mattered.
The night everything broke.
The night Adrian and I lost each other.
Vanessa had been there.
With a secret.
“I tried to tell you,” she said.
“But you wouldn’t answer my calls.””
Adrian looked away.
I remembered that week.
He had stopped answering everyone.
He had locked himself inside his office.
He had become someone I couldn’t reach.
Because he believed I betrayed him.
Vanessa looked at me.
“I came too late.””
I felt a strange sadness.
Not for her.
Not exactly.
For all of us.
Three people.
Destroyed by a story someone else created.
The hospital administrator returned.
“Mr. Moretti.””
Adrian turned.
The man looked nervous.
“We identified the person who used the medical access.””
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Who?””
The administrator looked at me.
Then at him.
“It wasn’t Vanessa Russo.””
A pause.
“It wasn’t anyone from the hospital.””
My fingers tightened around the edge of the bed.
“Then who?””
The administrator swallowed.
“The credentials belonged to a former employee of Moretti Capital.””
Adrian frowned.
“Name.””
The man checked the tablet.
Then read it.
And the second he said the name…
Adrian’s entire body went still.
Because it was someone we both knew.
Someone who had been close enough to destroy our marriage.
Someone who had helped me sign away my future.
“Rachel Whitmore.””
The room fell silent.
My divorce lawyer.
The woman who was supposed to protect me.
Adrian looked at me.
And I saw something in his eyes.
Not suspicion.
Not anger.
Fear.
Because now we both understood.
Rachel hadn’t just handled our divorce.
She had been part of the plan.
My phone buzzed.
A new message appeared.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
And my blood turned cold.
A photo.
Taken moments ago.
Inside the hospital.
It showed Adrian standing beside me.
May you like
And underneath the picture were six words.
*You should have stayed divorced.*
