Chapter 2 - The Dark Genealogy
The subterranean vault beneath my estate in Alpine, New Jersey, smelled of cigar smoke, old paper, and desperation.
It was 3:00 AM. Rain battered the security cameras outside while six monitors glowed in the dark, displaying financial networks, flight manifests, and heavily encrypted European medical databases.
Marco slammed a thick manila folder onto the mahogany desk.
“We got it,” Marco said, his voice grim. “It cost us two million dollars to bribe an administrator at the Zurich International Clinic, but we have the raw files.”
I grabbed the folder, my fingers tearing the paper.
Inside were medical reports dated four years ago. I flipped through the pages, my eyes scanning the technical German terms until I reached the final summary translated into English.
Patient: Elena Valenti (now Moretti)
Procedure: Advanced In-Vitro Fertilization / Targeted Hormonal Therapy
Notes: Patient presented severe hormonal suppression caused by long-term administration of synthetic estrogen-blockers.
I stopped. My breath hitched.
“Synthetic estrogen-blockers?” I muttered. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means she was being poisoned, Don Dominic,” Marco said quietly. “Someone was feeding her infertility drugs while she was married to you. High-dose contraceptives disguised as daily vitamins.”
A cold, terrifying realization slammed into my gut.
When Elena and I were married, my mother, Donna Valentina, personally managed Elena’s healthcare. My mother brought in the private doctors. My mother gave Elena her daily herbal supplements and wellness vitamins, insisting that a Valenti wife needed special care to bear strong heirs.
My mother broke her.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, slamming my fist onto the desk so hard the wood cracked. “My mother did this to her.”
“It gets worse, Boss,” Marco continued, turning to the next page. “Look at the date of Bella’s birth. October 14th, four years ago. Elena left New York in November five years ago. Count the months.”
I did the math in my head. The timeline was exact. Elena was already two weeks pregnant when I handed her the divorce papers and kicked her out of the mansion.
Bella wasn't Julian Moretti’s child. Bella was my daughter.
“She was carrying my child when I called her useless,” I choked out, a wave of nauseating guilt crushing my lungs. “I threw my own wife and unborn baby into the street because my mother lied to me.”
“Dominic, you need to hear the rest,” Marco urged, leaning over the desk. “Julian Moretti didn't just happen to find her in Switzerland. Moretti is the head of the Syndicat de la Côte d'Azur—the French Mob. He has been planning a hostile takeover of the Valenti territory for a decade. He knew Elena was pregnant with your heir before you even knew it yourself.”
My head snapped up. “What are you saying?”
“Moretti married her to legitimize his claim over our northern shipping lanes,” Marco revealed. “In the old European underworld law, if a rival syndicate adopts the legitimate blood heir of an empire, they can claim the territory through blood-right if the biological father dies without another heir.”
The trap was so brilliant, so intricate, it terrified me.
Julian Moretti hadn't just saved Elena—he had collected her like a prized chess piece. He let me discard her, picked her up from the wreckage, raised my daughter as his own, and was now using my own bloodline to execute a silent coup against my empire.
Suddenly, the red landline on my desk rang. The unlisted, encrypted line that only three people in the world had access to.
I picked up the receiver. “Talk.”
“Dominic...”
It was Elena’s voice. But she wasn't calm like she was at Serafina. Her breath was ragged, shallow, and laced with pure terror.
“Elena?” I stood up instantly. “Where are you?”
“He knows,” she sobbed softly into the phone, the sound muffled as if she was hiding in a closet. “Julian knows you pulled the Zurich medical files tonight. He has digital eyes inside the clinic. Dominic... I lied to you at the restaurant because he had a gun pressed against Bella’s side under the table!”
My blood boiled into pure lava. “What?!”
“He forced me to play along!” she wept. “He told me if I showed you any affection or told you the truth, he would make sure Bella never woke up tomorrow! He’s not my savior, Dominic! He’s my warden! He’s kept us hostage for four years!”
“Elena, listen to me very carefully,” I commanded, my voice dropping into the terrifying, dead-calm tone of a Don preparing for war. “Where is Bella right now?”
“He took her to the docks,” she gasped. “Pier 42. He’s putting her on a cargo ship bound for Marseille. He knows you’ll come for her, Dominic! It’s an ambush! He’s going to kill you and take the Valenti syndicate forever!”
“Let him try,” I snarled. “Stay where you are. I’m coming for my daughter.”
May you like
I hung up the phone and looked at Marco.
“Lock down the estate. Get every soldier we have. Call the Capos. We are burning Pier 42 to the ground tonight.”
