The DNA Test That Changed Everything
Chapter 04 - The DNA Test That Changed Everything
The Moretti estate had survived police investigations, violent business rivalries, financial crises, and three generations of men who believed fear was the most reliable form of loyalty.
But it had never experienced anything quite like the arrival of Emma Collins.
By Wednesday morning, every employee knew something extraordinary had happened.
The young maid who had been slapped and humiliated less than twenty-four hours earlier was no longer sleeping in the servants' cottage.
She had been given a private bedroom in the family wing.
Her foster mother occupied the adjoining suite.
Two security guards stood outside their rooms, and the kitchen staff had received instructions that both women could request anything they needed.
Nobody understood why.
Some whispered that Dante Moretti had taken an interest in the beautiful young maid.
Others wondered whether she possessed information capable of destroying the family.
Only a handful of people knew the real reason.
Emma might be the missing daughter of Maria Moretti.
And if that was true, the most powerful family in Chicago was about to confront a crime committed beneath its own roof.
Emma woke shortly after seven.
For a moment, she didn't recognize her surroundings.
The bed was enormous.
The sheets smelled faintly of lavender.
Sunlight filtered through cream-colored curtains and fell across a fireplace framed with white marble.
She sat upright.
Then the memories returned.
The slap.
The bracelet.
The photograph.
Her birth name.
Elena Rose Moretti.
Emma pressed a hand against her chest.
She had spent her entire life answering to a name chosen to protect her.
Now she was expected to consider another name belonging to a mother she didn't remember.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Emma?"
It was Margaret.
"Come in."
Her foster mother entered carrying two cups of tea.
She looked exhausted.
Dark circles surrounded her eyes, and her hands trembled slightly as she placed the cups on the bedside table.
"Did you sleep?"
"A little."
Margaret sat beside her.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Emma asked the question that had haunted her all night.
"Are you afraid I'll stop loving you?"
Margaret looked startled.
"Sweetheart—"
"Because I won't."
Tears immediately filled Margaret's eyes.
Emma took her hand.
"I'm angry that you didn't tell me the truth. I don't know how long that's going to hurt. But you're still my mom."
Margaret began crying.
"I never wanted you to think I stole you."
"You didn't."
Emma squeezed her fingers.
"You saved me."
Margaret shook her head.
"I should have found a way to tell you."
"Maybe."
Emma leaned against her shoulder.
"But we'll figure that out together."
For the first time since the previous morning, Margaret managed a smile.
Downstairs, Dante sat in his grandfather's study with attorney Evelyn Brooks.
The room was filled with dark wood, leather furniture, and shelves containing decades of family records.
Marcus stood near the door.
On the desk lay Rebecca Lane's letter.
Beside it sat a hospital photograph of Maria holding the newborn.
Evelyn removed her glasses.
"I've verified several details."
Dante leaned forward.
"Tell me."
"Rebecca Lane was employed at St. Catherine's Medical Center in March 2002. She resigned shortly after the Moretti child was reported deceased."
"And her death?"
"A single-vehicle collision on March twenty-sixth."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"Nine days after Elena was born."
"Correct."
"Was there an investigation?"
"A brief one. The report concluded she had lost control of her vehicle."
"Who handled it?"
Evelyn glanced at her notes.
"Detective Harold Voss."
Dante went still.
He knew that name.
Voss had served as a private security consultant for the Moretti family years earlier.
Dante's father trusted him.
After retiring from the police department, Voss had joined a security company with connections to the family's shipping division.
"Where is he now?"
"Living in Wisconsin."
"Find him."
Evelyn continued.
"There's something else. The hospital records indicate that Maria's daughter experienced a minor injury to her wrist during an emergency transfer between departments."
Dante looked toward the photograph.
"The scar."
"Possibly."
"And the bracelet?"
Evelyn placed a document on the desk.
"Your mother ordered several custom silver bracelets from a Chicago jeweler shortly before giving birth."
Dante examined the receipt.
Each bracelet had been engraved with the letter M.
"Why several?"
"One for her daughter, one for herself, and one for Alessandro."
Dante stared at the paper.
"My grandfather has one?"
"We found it in his personal safe."
Evelyn opened a velvet pouch.
Inside lay a silver bracelet almost identical to Emma's.
Dante picked it up.
On the inner surface was an inscription.
My heart, wherever you go.
His throat tightened.
"Mother's handwriting?"
"According to the jeweler's surviving design records, yes."
Dante closed his fist around the bracelet.
"How soon can we get DNA results?"
"An accredited laboratory can prioritize the testing. We'll have to follow proper collection and identity-verification procedures."
Dante nodded.
"I want it handled properly. No shortcuts."
Evelyn studied him.
"You're preparing yourself for the possibility she isn't your sister."
Dante looked up.
"I'm preparing myself for the possibility someone has spent twenty-four years making sure I believed she was dead."
Evelyn said nothing.
Because the difference mattered.
That afternoon, Emma met with the laboratory's medical professional in a private room.
Dante remained nearby, but he allowed her to decide whether to participate.
The woman explained the test carefully.
A cheek swab would be collected from Emma.
Dante would provide a comparison sample.
Because they shared only one confirmed parent if the theory was correct, the analysis would focus on whether their genetic profiles supported a maternal half-sibling relationship.
Emma listened in silence.
When the explanation ended, she turned toward Dante.
"What happens if it's true?"
He didn't pretend to misunderstand.
"Then you'll have a family you didn't know about."
She looked down.
"And if it isn't?"
"Then you'll still be someone who deserves answers."
Her eyes filled.
Dante added, "You don't owe me anything because of a test."
Emma studied his face.
"Do you always talk like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're negotiating a business agreement."
For the first time, Dante laughed.
It was brief and surprised them both.
"Usually."
Emma managed a small smile.
"Well, you're not very good at comforting people."
"I've been told."
"By who?"
"My grandfather."
Emma smiled again.
Dante felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest.
He hadn't realized how much he missed having someone speak to him without fear.
After the samples were collected, Emma asked to visit Alessandro.
Dante accompanied her.
The old man was resting beside the window in his bedroom.
A nurse sat nearby reading.
When Emma entered, Alessandro's eyes brightened.
"Hello, Mr. Moretti," she whispered.
He lifted one hand.
Emma took it.
"I brought you something."
She removed the silver bracelet from beneath her sleeve.
Alessandro began trembling.
Dante stepped closer.
Emma placed her wrist beside the older man's hand.
"I think you recognize this."
A tear traveled down Alessandro's cheek.
He nodded.
"Maria..."
Emma swallowed.
"Was she kind?"
Alessandro's lips moved.
"Beautiful..."
Emma smiled sadly.
"I'm sure she was."
He shook his head.
"Heart..."
He struggled to continue.
"Beautiful... heart."
Emma's eyes filled.
Dante looked away.
Alessandro reached toward his bedside drawer.
The nurse helped him open it.
Inside was a small music box.
Its polished wooden lid showed signs of age.
The old man pushed it toward Emma.
She opened it.
A delicate melody filled the room.
Emma froze.
She knew that melody.
Margaret used to hum it when Emma was little.
"Where did you get this?" she whispered.
Alessandro touched the box.
"Maria."
Emma stared at him.
"My mom used to sing this to me."
Dante closed his eyes.
His mother had sung the same lullaby.
He remembered listening outside the nursery while she rocked her daughter.
For years afterward, he had avoided music boxes because that particular melody reminded him of everything they had lost.
Emma looked at Dante.
"Do you know it?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"How?"
"She sang it to me too."
Emma began crying.
Alessandro gripped her hand.
For a few precious moments, the old man's speech seemed less important than the understanding passing between them.
They shared a memory without ever having lived it together.
That evening, Dante received an encrypted message from an unknown sender.
There was no greeting.
Only a photograph.
It showed Emma and Margaret entering the mansion earlier that day.
Beneath it were four words.
You should have buried her.
Dante stared at the screen.
Then he forwarded the message to Marcus.
"Trace it."
"Already working on it."
Dante looked toward the security monitors.
Emma was sitting in the family library with Margaret.
She was laughing at something her foster mother had said.
Dante felt a sharp, unfamiliar fear.
His enemies had threatened him many times.
But this was different.
He could survive threats against himself.
He wasn't certain he could survive losing his sister a second time.
At eight thirty the following morning, Evelyn called.
The preliminary laboratory report was ready.
Dante immediately requested that Emma join him in his study.
Margaret came too.
The room was silent as Evelyn placed the report on the desk.
"The findings strongly support the conclusion that Emma Collins and Dante Moretti share a biological mother."
Emma stared at her.
"What does that mean?"
Evelyn's expression softened.
"The genetic evidence is consistent with your being maternal half-siblings."
Emma looked at Dante.
He had gone completely still.
"You're my brother?"
Dante's eyes filled.
"Yes."
Emma covered her mouth.
For twenty-four years, she had imagined meeting her biological family.
Sometimes she pictured wealthy strangers who had forgotten her.
Sometimes she imagined an ordinary couple who had simply been too young to raise a child.
But she had never imagined finding an older brother whose entire life had been shaped by believing she was dead.
Dante moved around the desk.
He stopped a few feet away.
He didn't want to frighten her.
"Emma, may I hug you?"
She nodded.
Then she threw herself into his arms.
Dante caught her.
For a moment, he stood rigidly.
Then his arms tightened around her.
And the man who had once watched his mother's tiny coffin disappear into the ground began crying for the baby sister he had lost.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Emma shook her head against his chest.
"You didn't know."
"I should have looked."
"You were a kid."
"I promised Mom I'd protect you."
Emma pulled back.
"How old were you?"
"Twelve."
She touched his cheek.
"You were only twelve, Dante."
His expression broke.
Outside the study, Marcus received a phone call.
He listened for several seconds.
Then his face hardened.
He knocked on the door.
Dante reluctantly released Emma.
"What is it?"
Marcus entered.
"We've located Harold Voss."
Dante straightened.
"Good."
"There's a problem."
"What?"
"Someone reached him first."
Emma gripped Dante's arm.
Marcus continued.
"His house was ransacked last night. He's alive, but he's disappeared."
Dante's expression turned cold.
Then Marcus delivered the final piece of news.
"We also found something hidden in Mrs. Whitlock's archived employment records."
"What?"
"An authorization letter transferring control of a trust account."
"Whose account?"
Marcus looked at Emma.
"Elena Rose Moretti's."
Dante slowly turned toward the young woman standing beside him.
May you like
And for the first time, he understood that the truth about her disappearance might be worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
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