Isabella sighed.
“This is very emotional, but it still doesn’t explain the ring.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“Yes, it does.”
He held it up.
“This belonged to my grandfather.”
Isabella went still.
Lena looked between them.
Dante continued.
“He gave it to Sofia after the fire.”
“Why?”
“Because she saved three members of this family.”
Lena stared.
“He told her that as long as someone carried that ring, the Moretti family owed them protection.”
Isabella laughed.
“A medieval promise.”
Dante looked at her.
“My grandfather did not consider it symbolic.”
Isabella stopped smiling.
Lena shook her head.
“I don’t want protection.”
Dante looked at her.
“I don’t want money either.”
“Then why are you here?”
That question hurt.
Lena stood.
“I work here.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
Dante watched her.
Lena continued.
“My mother told me to give you the ring.”
“So I gave it to you.”
“She said your family owed us nothing.”
Dante frowned.
“Nothing?”
Lena reached into her apron.
She carried Sofia’s letter folded inside.
She placed it on the desk.
Dante read it.
Then again.
When he finished, he said nothing.
Isabella picked up her purse.
“Well, wonderful.”
She looked at Lena.
“You delivered your sentimental artifact.”
“You can go.”
Dante’s head lifted.
“No.”
Isabella stared.
“What?”
“She stays.”
Lena looked surprised.
Dante turned toward Isabella.
“And so do you.”
There was something in his voice now.
Suspicion.
“Why did you recognize the ring?”
Isabella froze.
“I didn’t.”
Dante leaned back.
“You did.”
“No.”
“You went pale before I came downstairs.”
Lena remembered it.
Isabella glanced toward her.
Dante saw that too.
“How did you know what it was?”
Isabella laughed nervously.
“This is ridiculous.”
Dante stood.
“Answer me.”
The warmth disappeared from the room.
Isabella’s eyes hardened.
“I’ve seen family photographs.”
“No.”
Dante stepped closer.
“The crest appears everywhere.”
“The inscription doesn’t.”
Isabella stopped.
Dante held up the ring.
“And you knew enough to want it before I touched it.”
Lena felt cold.
Dante’s voice dropped.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Isabella said nothing.
That was answer enough.
The truth began with Antonio Moretti’s will.
Dante’s father had died eight years earlier.
Officially, the estate was simple.
The businesses passed into trusts controlled by Dante.
Properties were distributed.
Charitable holdings remained protected.
There was one clause almost nobody discussed.
A private restitution fund created after the mansion fire.
Five million dollars.
Established for Sofia Russo.
Dante did not know.
His father’s attorney had administered the fund.
According to the documents, Sofia had refused the money.
Every year.
For eighteen years.
Then the letters stopped.
The remaining funds were transferred back into the family estate.
