Chapter 3: The Phone That Rang
Margaret kept her eyes on the glowing number.
Noah’s fingers tightened around his father’s collar.
“That number belonged to your wife’s private estate office,” Margaret said.
“After Elena was gone, only one person kept access to it.”
“Say his name.”
“Matteo Marconi.”
A chair scraped behind Raffaele.
His younger brother Matteo rose from the family table, one hand disappearing into his jacket.
“You should be careful with accusations, Margaret,” Matteo said.
Raffaele held out Victoria’s phone.
“Then explain the message.”
“I cannot explain every stranger who sends Victoria nonsense.”
“You maintained Elena’s private number.”
“For estate business.
You authorized it.”
Victoria shoved the ring into her purse.
“This is absurd.
Matteo has done nothing but protect this family.”
“Your defense arrived quickly,” Raffaele said.
“I did not ask you.”
Matteo stepped closer, wearing the patient smile he used at board meetings.
“You’re upset.
Hand Noah to Margaret, and we’ll discuss this privately.”
“Noah stays with me.”
“You’re frightening him.”
“No,” Noah whispered.
“You are.”
Matteo’s smile faltered.
Raffaele took out his own phone and dialed the number displayed on Victoria’s screen.
A muffled vibration came from Matteo’s jacket.
Every conversation on the terrace stopped.
Matteo removed a phone, looked at its flashing screen, and declined the call.
“You said a stranger sent the message,” Raffaele said.
“I said I couldn’t explain it.”
“Now you can.”
Matteo placed the phone on the table.
“Victoria asked me to help with Sophie’s future.
I advised her about financial protections.
That is all.”
“You told her Sophie would get everything.”
“I told her that marriage changes inheritance arrangements.”
Victoria pointed at him.
“You promised Noah would be sent away before the wedding.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“Think very carefully before you lie about me.”
“You wrote the school application!”
“And you begged me to find somewhere for him!”
Sophie covered her ears.
Margaret crossed the terrace and knelt beside her.
“You may come with me, sweetheart.”
“No!” Victoria caught Sophie by the shoulder.
“She stays with her mother.”
Sophie pulled away.
“You said Uncle Matteo would make Mr.
Raffaele sign.”
Raffaele stared at his brother.
“She calls you Uncle Matteo?”
“It was kindness,” Matteo replied.
“Something this family seems to have forgotten.”
“Kindness doesn’t forge my signature.”
“You have not proved it was forged.”
Raffaele unfolded the application and held it beside the invitation he had signed that morning.
The last stroke of the surname curved in the wrong direction.
“My wife knew the difference,” he said.
“So do you.”
Matteo leaned close enough that only the family heard him.
“Before you make a public spectacle, ask yourself why Elena placed me beside you in Noah’s trust.”
“To protect him if I could not.”
“Or to protect the estate from you.”
Raffaele passed Noah to Margaret.
“Take both children inside.”
Victoria blocked her path.
“Sophie goes nowhere with a servant.”
Margaret stood straight.
“Then perhaps you should have behaved like her mother.”
Victoria’s hand rose, but Sophie flinched before it moved.
Raffaele stepped between them.
“You will not frighten either child again.”
Matteo tapped the folded document against Raffaele’s chest.
“If I were you, I would stop performing for the guests and read what was delivered to my attorney this morning.”
“What did you deliver?”
“A petition questioning whether you are fit to control Noah’s trust.”
Raffaele did not move.
“On what grounds?”
“Your temper, your associates, and your public conduct today.
Victoria has witnesses who saw you restrain her.”
“You planned for me to react.”
“I planned for you to reveal yourself.”
Victoria reached into her bag and produced another envelope.
This one carried the seal of a private laboratory.
Raffaele looked from her to Matteo.
“What is that?”
May you like
Matteo’s smile returned.
“Proof that Noah may not be your son.”
