The pounding on the front door came again.

Three heavy blows.

Then a familiar voice echoed through the mansion.

“Lorenzo! Open the damn door. We need to talk.”

I recognized that voice immediately.

Vincent Moretti.

My cousin.

My second-in-command.

The man who had stood beside me at my father’s funeral, helped me build my empire, and sworn on his mother’s grave that he would never betray our family.

I looked down at Sophie.

She was burying her little face against my neck, her tiny fingers clutching my shirt.

“Is that bad uncle?” she whispered.

I kissed her forehead.

“Listen to Daddy, princess. Nobody is taking you anywhere.”

I looked toward my security chief.

“Nobody opens that door until I say so.”

“Understood, boss.”

Vanessa suddenly stepped forward.

“Lorenzo, please. Don’t make a scene. Vincent is family.”

I turned slowly.

“Family?”

She swallowed.

“He’s just trying to help.”

“Help with what?”

She glanced at Sophie.

That single glance told me more than a thousand explanations could have.

I handed my daughter to Margaret.

“Take Sophie upstairs. Lock my bedroom door. Don’t let anyone inside unless you hear my voice.”

Sophie immediately тιԍнтened her arms around my neck.

“No, Daddy! Don’t leave me!”

My heart cracked.

I lowered myself until we were eye to eye.

“Sweetheart, remember what I told you? You’re my princess. Nobody can make you leave your home.”

“But bad uncle has a shiny ring.”

“I know.”

“He’s going to take me?”

I gently wiped her cheek.

“Not while I’m your daddy.”

She reluctantly allowed Margaret to carry her upstairs.

But before disappearing around the staircase, she looked back.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Can I have a hug when you come back?”

I felt something break inside me.

“You can have a million hugs.”

The front doors finally opened.

Vincent walked into the mansion wearing a tailored black suit, polished shoes, and the enormous gold lion ring I’d given him five years earlier.

Two men followed him.

He looked around the dining room.

Then his eyes settled on the crumpled drawing still lying on the table.

“Well,” he said casually. “Looks like family dinner didn’t go as planned.”

I stood between him and the staircase.

“Why are you here?”

Vincent smiled.

“Business.”

“Try again.”

He glanced toward Vanessa.

She immediately lowered her eyes.

I noticed.

So did he.

“You’re making everyone uncomfortable, Lorenzo.”

I stepped closer.

“Good. Now answer my question.”

Vincent sighed.

“There’s been a complication involving Sophie.”

My jaw тιԍнтened.

“She’s three years old. What complication?”

“You’re not thinking clearly. You’ve been raising that child alone since Olivia died. It’s time you accepted that a little girl needs a proper family environment.”

I stared at him.

“She has a family.”

“Does she?”

He gestured toward the dining table.

“Look at this place. You’re hardly ever home. Your business keeps you occupied, and Vanessa has been kind enough to take responsibility for the household.”

I almost laughed.

“Kind enough?”

“She was trying to establish some order.”

“By making my daughter eat on the floor?”

Vincent’s expression barely changed.

“Children exaggerate.”

I felt my fists тιԍнтen.

“Careful.”

He raised his hands.

“Relax. I’m not here to argue about furniture.”

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a document folder.

“I’m here because Sophie has a better opportunity waiting for her.”

I looked at the folder.

“What is that?”

“A temporary guardianship agreement.”

I stared at him.

“Who signed it?”

“You’re listed as the consenting parent.”

“I never signed anything.”

Vincent shrugged.

“Perhaps you forgot.”

I stepped forward.

“Are you telling me you forged my signature?”

His smile disappeared.

“Watch your accusations.”

I looked at Vanessa.

“Did you know about this?”

She remained silent.

“Vanessa!”

She flinched.

“Vincent told me it was temporary.”

“Temporary what?”

She began crying.

“He said Sophie would stay with his family for a few weeks. Just until the wedding. He said it would make everything easier.”

I stared at her.

“The wedding?”

She nodded.

“After we got married, I wanted to have my own children. I didn’t think it was fair that everything in this house revolved around Sophie.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“So you decided to make my daughter disappear?”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Then explain the drawing.”

Her lips trembled.

“I was just trying to teach her boundaries.”

“She’s three years old!”

My voice thundered through the room.

“She’s three! She should be worrying about cartoons, toys, and whether Daddy will read her a bedtime story. She shouldn’t be asking permission to hug her own father!”

Vanessa began sobbing.

Vincent interrupted.

“Enough. You’re becoming emotional.”

I turned toward him.

“Get out of my house.”

He didn’t move.

Instead, he placed the folder on the table.

“You need to understand something, Lorenzo. This isn’t just about Vanessa.”

He opened the folder.

Inside were copies of financial documents, a guardianship application, and a pH๏τograph of Sophie standing outside her preschool.

My stomach тιԍнтened.

“Why do you have pH๏τographs of my daughter?”

Vincent looked directly into my eyes.

“Because someone has been watching her for months.”

At that moment, my security chief rushed into the room.

“Boss, we have a problem.”

“What?”

He glanced at Vincent.

Then at Vanessa.

“Someone accessed the family office last night. Several original documents are missing.”

“Which documents?”

“The trust papers. Sophie’s inheritance records. And the original copy of your late wife’s will.”

I felt the room go cold.

My wife, Olivia, had died three years earlier.

Before her death, she had established a trust for Sophie.

It contained several properties, investment accounts, and shares in the Moretti business empire.

I had never allowed anyone to touch it.

Not even myself.

“Who had access?”

My security chief looked uncomfortable.

“Your fiancée, sir. And Mr. Vincent.”

I turned toward Vanessa.

She immediately shook her head.

“I didn’t take anything!”

Vincent laughed.

“Don’t look at me. I was given access by your own office.”

“By whom?”

He didn’t answer.

I stepped closer.

“Who authorized it?”

Vincent’s smile faded.

Then he said something I would never forget.

“Olivia.”

I froze.

“What did you just say?”

“Your wife authorized the transfer before she died.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Is it?”

He pulled another document from the folder.

It carried Olivia’s signature.

I stared at it.

The handwriting looked genuine.

But something was wrong.

My wife always signed her full name.

This document only carried her initials.

And I remembered something.

Olivia had once told me that if anyone ever presented a document involving Sophie’s inheritance without the original family seal, I should never sign it.

I looked at the bottom of the page.

The seal was missing.

“Where did you get this?”

Vincent smiled.

“From the family attorney.”

“Which attorney?”

“Robert Hayes.”

My stomach тιԍнтened.

Robert had been my father’s personal lawyer for more than twenty years.

He had also attended Olivia’s funeral.

“Call him,” I ordered.

My security chief immediately took out his phone.

But before he could dial, a small voice came from the staircase.

“Daddy?”

I turned.

Sophie was standing halfway down the stairs.

Margaret was behind her, looking terrified.

I rushed toward my daughter.

“Princess! I told you to stay upstairs.”

She held a small pink teddy bear against her chest.

“I’m sorry.”

I crouched.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked toward Vincent.

Then she whispered something that made every hair on my arms stand up.

“Daddy, bad uncle came to my bedroom last night.”

I looked at Vincent.

His face changed.

“What did he do, sweetheart?”

Sophie hugged her teddy bear.

“He put a paper in my backpack.”

“What paper?”

“The one with Mommy’s picture.”

My heart stopped.

I gently took her backpack from Margaret.

Inside was a folded envelope.

My wife’s handwriting was on the front.

FOR LORENZO. ONLY IF SOMEONE TRIES TO TAKE OUR DAUGHTER.

I stared at it.

Olivia had been ᴅᴇᴀᴅ for three years.

How could she have known?

I opened the envelope with trembling fingers.

Inside was a letter and a small flash drive.

I unfolded the letter.

My love,

If you’re reading this, something has happened that I prayed would never happen.

I know you love Sophie more than anything. That’s why I need you to listen carefully.

There is someone in our family who has been waiting for the opportunity to take control of her inheritance.

I discovered the truth shortly before my death.

I couldn’t tell you everything because I was afraid they would act before I could protect our daughter.

Trust no one who tells you Sophie would be better off somewhere else.

And whatever happens, never allow Vincent to become her legal guardian.

My fingers began shaking.

I read the last paragraph again.

Then I looked at Vincent.

He was no longer smiling.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded.

I folded the letter.

“Apparently, my wife knew you better than I did.”

Vincent’s expression hardened.

“That letter proves nothing.”

I held up the flash drive.

“Perhaps this will.”

He took a step forward.

My security chief immediately moved between us.

“Don’t,” I warned.

Vincent stopped.

Then, for the first time, he looked genuinely angry.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

I smiled without humor.

“Funny. That’s exactly what my daughter said when she asked whether she was allowed to hug me.”

I handed the flash drive to my security chief.

“Find a secure computer. I want every file copied and preserved.”

“Yes, boss.”

Vincent suddenly looked toward Vanessa.

She began shaking her head.

“No. You said this wouldn’t happen.”

I turned.

“What wouldn’t happen?”

She covered her mouth.

Vincent grabbed her arm.

“Shut up.”

I moved forward.

“Take your hand off her.”

He released her.

Vanessa began crying uncontrollably.

“Lorenzo, please. I didn’t know everything.”

“Then tell me what you knew.”

She looked at Vincent.

Then back at me.

“He told me that once Sophie was gone, everything would be easier. He said we could start our own family and that the inheritance would eventually come under our control.”

I stared at her.

“And you agreed?”

She nodded through her tears.

“Yes.”

The silence was deafening.

I looked at the woman I had planned to marry.

The woman who had slept beside me.

The woman who had smiled at my daughter while secretly planning to remove her from our home.

“Get out.”

“Lorenzo—”

“You’re no longer welcome in this house.”

She reached toward me.

I stepped away.

“Don’t ever come near my daughter again.”

Twenty minutes later, the flash drive was opened in my private office.

My security chief connected it to an isolated computer.

A video file appeared.

The date was three days before Olivia died.

My hands went cold.

I pressed play.

Olivia appeared on the screen.

She looked tired, but her beautiful smile was unmistakable.

“Hello, my love.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“Sophie is asleep, and I don’t know how much time I have before someone realizes I’ve recorded this.”

She paused.

Then she looked directly into the camera.

“Lorenzo, if Vincent is trying to take Sophie, you need to understand why.”

A document appeared on the screen.

It was a copy of the original trust agreement.

Olivia continued.

“Your father established a separate inheritance for our daughter. But there’s a condition. Sophie becomes the sole controlling beneficiary when she turns eighteen. Until then, the ᴀssets remain protected by an independent trustee.”

I leaned forward.

“That trustee is not Robert Hayes.”

Olivia paused.

“It’s someone your father chose before he died. Someone who knows what happened to your brother.”

My blood ran cold.

My brother had supposedly died fifteen years earlier in a car accident.

Olivia continued.

“His name is Michael Moretti.”

I stared at the screen.

Michael.

My older brother.

The man whose funeral I had attended.

The man whose grave I had visited every year.

Then Olivia said the words that shattered everything.

“Lorenzo, your brother is alive. And Vincent knows exactly where he is.”

The video ended.

Nobody spoke.

My security chief slowly turned toward me.

“Boss…”

I raised one hand.

“Find Michael.”

He nodded.

But before he could leave, my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I answered.

A man’s voice came through.

Older.

Familiar.

And carrying a tremor I hadn’t heard since childhood.

“Lorenzo?”

I couldn’t speak.

The man continued.

“Please don’t let them take Sophie.”

My heart nearly stopped.

“Who is this?”

A long silence followed.

Then he answered.

“It’s your brother.”

I gripped the desk.

“Michael?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you?”

“There’s no time. Listen to me carefully. Vincent isn’t the person who started this.”

I looked toward the office door.

“Then who?”

Michael took a shaky breath.

“The person who ordered Sophie to be removed from your home is the same person who arranged Olivia’s death.”

I felt the room tilt.

“Who?”

Before he could answer, a loud crash came from upstairs.

Then Margaret screamed.

I ran toward the staircase.

“SOPHIE!”

My security chief rushed behind me.

When we reached my bedroom, the door was open.

The teddy bear lay on the floor.

Margaret was standing beside the bed, crying.

And my little girl was gone.

On her pillow was a small white envelope.

I opened it.

There were only two sentences.

YOU SHOULD HAVE MARRIED VANESSA.

NOW YOU’LL NEVER SEE YOUR DAUGHTER AGAIN.

I looked at my security chief.

My voice came out colder than I had ever heard it.

“Lock down every exit. Find every vehicle that left this property.”

“Yes, boss.”

I pulled out my phone and called Michael.

He answered immediately.

“Where is Sophie?”

His response was barely audible.

“Then it’s already happened.”

I closed my eyes.

Because the next words he spoke revealed the one person I had never imagined could betray me.

“Lorenzo, your daughter is with her own grandmother.”

And I suddenly remembered something Olivia had told me shortly before she died.

She had said her mother was ᴅᴇᴀᴅ.

But she had never explained why.

To be continued — PART 3.