Chapter 6: The Story She Tried to Tell
Vittoria moved faster than Luca had expected.
She did not wait a week.
She waited three days.
On a Thursday morning, a story appeared in a Chicago lifestyle publication.
Not a major outlet.
A smaller one.
The kind that ran on society gossip and anonymous tips from people who needed distance between themselves and what they were saying.
The headline read: *Sources Close to Moretti Family Raise Questions About Billionaire's Alleged Children.*
It named me by name.
It described a woman who had concealed a pregnancy from her ex-husband.
Who had raised children in secret.
Who had, according to unnamed sources, made a deliberate choice to deny a father access to his own children.
It did not mention forged medical records.
It did not mention fifty thousand dollars.
It did not mention Petra.
My phone started ringing at seven forty-five in the morning.
I saw the first notification while I was making the twins' lunches.
I read the headline once.
Then I put my phone face-down on the counter and finished making the sandwiches.
Eli looked at me.
"You have your thinking face."
"I'm always thinking."
"Your serious thinking face."
I put both lunch boxes in their bags.
"Go get your shoes."
They went.
I picked up my phone and called Ava.
She picked up before it finished the first ring.
"I already saw it."
"She didn't waste time."
"No." Ava's voice was tight.
"Nia, this is going to spread.
The bigger outlets will pick it up by afternoon if someone feeds it to them."
"I know."
"What do you want to do?"
"Nothing yet."
"Nothing—"
"Ava.
If I respond right now, I'm reacting.
I'm playing her game on her timeline." I looked at the twins' backpacks by the door.
"She wants me scared.
She wants me to make a mistake."
"And if the story gets bigger?"
"Then it gets bigger." I picked up my keys.
"But I'm not making a move until I've spoken to Luca."
Luca called eleven minutes later.
His voice was controlled but only just.
"I saw it."
"So did I."
"She wasn't supposed to—" He stopped himself.
"I should have anticipated this."
"You gave her a week.
She decided not to take it."
"I'm sorry, Nia."
"Don't apologize.
Tell me what you're doing."
"I called my attorney at six this morning.
We're filing a formal complaint with the state attorney's office today.
Not next week.
Today." His voice sharpened.
"She wanted to make this a public story.
Fine.
But the public story is going to include the wire transfer, the emails, and the forged report."
"She'll say Petra fabricated everything."
"She can say whatever she wants.
The wire transfer came from her personal account.
The emails are on a server she doesn't control anymore." A pause.
"And the clinic contact — the man she paid — his name is Raymond Holt.
He retired to Portugal two years ago.
Petra has been in contact with him."
I went very still.
"He'll talk?"
"He already has.
He gave a written statement to Petra eight months ago.
He said he had been waiting for someone to ask." Luca's voice was quiet.
"He said he had never stopped thinking about what he had done."
I sat down on the edge of the couch.
"She didn't know about him," I said.
"No.
She thought he was gone and silent.
She thought the money had bought his permanent silence." A pause.
"It bought her seven years.
That was all."
Eli appeared in the doorway with one shoe on.
"Mom, I can't find my other shoe."
"Check under your bed."
He disappeared.
I lowered my voice.
"What about the story?
The one she planted."
"My attorney is drafting a response.
We're not going to deny anything you actually did." His voice was careful.
"You did keep the twins from me.
That's true.
We're not going to pretend otherwise.
But the response will include the full context.
Why you made that choice.
What had been done to our marriage before you made it."
"You're going to tell the whole story."
"Yes."
"Including your part in it."
A pause.
"Including my part in it."
I thought about that.
About what it would cost him publicly to admit he had withdrawn from me.
That he had let a belief take root without questioning it.
That he had ended a marriage based on a lie he had not bothered to verify.
"That will hurt you," I said.
"I know."
"Your board.
Your investors."
"I know, Nia."
"Luca—"
"I spent six years building a reputation." His voice was steady.
"I think I can spend some of it on the truth."
Eli reappeared with both shoes on, one of them on the wrong foot.
"We have to go," I said.
"I know.
I'll call you after the filing."
"Okay."
"Nia."
"What?"
"She thought you would run." A pause.
"She was wrong about that too."
May you like
I looked at my son wrestling with his shoe.
"She was wrong about a lot of things," I said.
