Chapter 15 - The Two Babies Named Moretti
# Chapter 15 - The Two Babies Named Moretti
The photograph showed two newborn boys.
One had been given the Moretti name, an empire, and a father who taught him that blood was everything.
The other had been given the name Michael Vale and a childhood spent in institutions, wondering why nobody wanted him.
And now Dominic Moretti was staring at evidence suggesting that the two lives had been exchanged before either child could open his eyes.
He stood inside Room Zero, the hidden chamber beneath the old Moretti family hospital in Beacon Hill.
The photograph trembled slightly in his hands.
Beneath the two infants was Angelo Moretti's handwritten instruction.
Only one may inherit the name.
For thirty-seven years, Dominic had believed he was Vittorio Moretti's biological son.
He had carried the family name.
Inherited its enemies.
Protected its businesses.
And devoted much of his adult life to becoming the kind of man Vittorio expected him to be.
Now he was facing the possibility that the identity he had defended all his life belonged to someone else.
"Dominic?"
Elena stood beside him.
He barely heard her.
His attention remained fixed on the two babies.
"Which one am I?"
Nobody answered.
Detective Sarah Mitchell approached carefully.
"We have reason to investigate the records, but we don't yet know whether this photograph is authentic or whether the labels were accurate."
Dominic looked up.
"Someone deliberately placed those names beneath the babies."
"That appears to be the case."
"Then somebody knew."
Mitchell nodded.
"Possibly."
Dominic stared toward the old filing cabinets.
"My grandfather knew."
His voice sounded unfamiliar.
Almost empty.
"Vittorio knew."
He lowered the photograph.
"And Richard has probably known my entire life."
At 1:52 p.m., Adrian Cole located a sealed folder inside Room Zero.
Its cover carried a faded red stamp.
PROJECT LEGACY — INITIAL BENEFICIARY DESIGNATION
Inside were several original-looking records dating to 1989.
Dominic frowned when he saw the year.
"I was born in 1989?"
Adrian examined the document.
"Your known date of birth places you in 1989."
"Then why did the earlier file contain a photograph supposedly from thirty-seven years ago?"
"Because the records conflict."
Dominic gave a bitter laugh.
"Of course they do."
Adrian turned another page.
The file listed two infants.
INFANT A — DOMINIC VITTORIO MORETTI
INFANT B — MICHAEL VALE
Beside each entry was an identifying laboratory code.
But the final page contained a handwritten amendment.
Identity assignment reversed following beneficiary review.
Dominic stopped breathing.
"Reversed?"
Adrian nodded.
"That's what it says."
"Who authorized it?"
Adrian pointed toward the bottom.
A signature.
ANGELO MORETTI
Dominic stared.
His grandfather.
The man who had built the family fortune.
The patriarch whose portrait occupied the entrance hall of every major Moretti property.
A man Dominic had been taught to admire almost as much as Vittorio.
"What did he do?" Dominic whispered.
Adrian examined the rest of the file.
"There's a note indicating a proposed change in the infants' legal identities. But it doesn't establish whether the children were physically exchanged."
Dominic looked at the photograph again.
Two newborns.
Two names.
One inheritance.
And decades of deliberate confusion.
He suddenly understood why Adriano—Michael Vale—had always looked so much like him.
Perhaps Michael was Vittorio's biological son.
Perhaps Dominic was.
Perhaps they were related in another way.
But someone had made sure neither man could know.
Elena watched Dominic from across the room.
She recognized the expression on his face.
It was the same one he had worn six years earlier when his father told him their relationship could never continue.
The same expression he wore whenever someone challenged the Moretti family.
But this time, he wasn't angry.
He looked lost.
She approached slowly.
"Dominic."
He turned.
"What if I'm not his son?"
Elena felt her chest tighten.
"Vittorio?"
He nodded.
For several seconds, she considered what to say.
Then she asked, "Would that change what he did to you?"
Dominic frowned.
"What?"
"Would it change the years you spent trying to make him proud?"
"No."
"Would it change the way he treated you?"
"No."
"Would it change what happened to our children?"
Dominic looked away.
"No."
She stepped closer.
"Then whatever the genetic evidence eventually shows, you still have a life that belongs to you."
He gave a humorless smile.
"That's easy to say when your name isn't attached to a criminal empire."
Elena shook her head.
"No. It isn't easy."
Her voice softened.
"I spent six years believing I knew the truth about my children. Now I don't even know whether the boy I carried home as Matteo is biologically mine."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"But I know I love him," she continued.
"And I know that whatever someone wrote on a hospital bracelet doesn't erase the mornings I held him when he was sick, or the nights I stayed awake beside him."
She took Dominic's hand.
"You've been a Moretti for thirty-seven years. Whether that was the name on your first bracelet or not, you get to decide what it means now."
Dominic looked at her.
For a moment, the hardness in his face disappeared.
He gently squeezed her hand.
Then whispered, "I don't deserve you."
Elena's eyes filled.
"That isn't a question we have time to settle today."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
At 2:38 p.m., Detective Mitchell received confirmation that Richard Moretti had agreed to provide an additional formal statement.
The older man sat in a secured interview room inside the hospital.
His expensive suit was wrinkled.
His eyes were bloodshot.
For the first time, he looked less like the powerful executive Dominic remembered and more like a frightened man who had spent decades waiting for the truth to catch him.
Dominic observed from an adjoining room with his attorney and Adrian.
Mitchell placed a copy of the infant designation file before Richard.
"Do you recognize this?"
Richard looked down.
His expression changed.
"Where did you find it?"
"Room Zero."
He closed his eyes.
"Then Angelo's records survived."
Mitchell leaned forward.
"What was Project Legacy originally designed to accomplish?"
Richard remained silent for several seconds.
Then he answered.
"To control succession."
"By exchanging infants?"
"By controlling which children were legally recognized."
"That's not what I asked."
Richard looked toward the photograph.
"Angelo believed the family fortune could be destroyed by competing inheritance claims."
"Whose claims?"
Richard hesitated.
"Vittorio's children. Other descendants. Children whose births the family had kept secret."
Mitchell waited.
Richard continued.
"His solution was to place control of the fortune in a trust governed by selected beneficiary identities."
"Selected according to what?"
"Bloodline. Birth order. Legal recognition."
"And when those factors didn't produce the beneficiary Angelo wanted?"
Richard looked away.
"The records could be changed."
Dominic felt nausea rise.
That was the entire scheme.
Not a mistake.
Not a desperate decision made during a medical emergency.
A system designed to make identity itself negotiable.
Mitchell pointed toward the photograph.
"Were Dominic Moretti and Michael Vale physically exchanged as newborns?"
Richard's expression tightened.
"I wasn't present for the delivery."
"Did you learn whether it happened?"
"I learned Angelo ordered an identity reassignment."
"Did Vittorio know?"
Richard hesitated.
"Not at first."
Dominic went still.
Mitchell leaned forward.
"When did he discover it?"
Richard stared at the table.
"Years later."
"How many years?"
A long silence.
Then Richard whispered, "When Dominic was eleven."
Dominic's breath caught.
Eleven.
The age when he had overheard his parents arguing about a boy.
The age when Vittorio began treating him differently.
More strictly.
More coldly.
As though he were constantly being tested.
Dominic stared through the glass.
His father hadn't merely been raising a son.
He had been living with a secret he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge.
At 3:14 p.m., Adrian found a second document inside the Room Zero archive.
It was a private correspondence file between Angelo Moretti and an attorney named Leonard Price.
The letter was dated February 1996.
Its central paragraph read:
The child presently known as Dominic Moretti must remain the recognized beneficiary. Any disclosure concerning Michael Vale would create unacceptable complications for the succession trust.
Dominic felt his jaw tighten.
He was seven years old when the letter was written.
The same age his own sons had reached today.
And already adults had been deciding whether his identity should remain intact.
Adrian continued reading.
Vittorio's objections have been noted. However, the beneficiary designation remains binding until the appropriate verification event.
Dominic frowned.
"Verification event?"
Adrian checked the accompanying documents.
"There's a reference to a later generational review."
"What kind of review?"
"One involving the beneficiary's descendants."
Dominic felt cold.
His children.
Angelo's plan hadn't ended with Dominic's childhood.
It had been structured to continue into the next generation.
Perhaps that was why five infants had created a crisis.
Perhaps multiple descendants threatened a system that depended on one controlled identity.
"Adrian."
"Yes?"
"How much of the family fortune is connected to this trust?"
The investigator hesitated.
"Potentially a controlling interest in several holding companies."
"Bellwether?"
"Yes."
"Security companies?"
"Some."
"Medical properties?"
"Yes."
Dominic looked toward the archive.
The same organizations used to conceal children were financially controlled through the very trust that depended on their identities.
The system was circular.
The trust financed Bellwether.
Bellwether controlled the records.
The records determined the beneficiary.
And the beneficiary controlled the trust.
A structure designed to protect itself.
Dominic finally understood why Charles and Richard were so desperate.
If the original records were authenticated, the entire arrangement could collapse.
At Seabrook, the birthday celebration had begun without Dominic.
Luca wore a paper crown.
Leo had chocolate frosting on his cheek.
Nico was explaining why dinosaurs didn't actually live in the same period.
Matteo was ignoring him.
Daniel sat beside them, holding a small wrapped present.
Marco had arranged for simple decorations.
Nothing extravagant.
Just balloons, a cake, and enough toys to make the children forget their fear for a little while.
Elena had called earlier to speak with them.
Now she watched through a video connection as Luca blew out his candle.
"Make a wish!" Leo shouted.
Luca closed his eyes.
Then blew.
Everyone cheered.
Matteo leaned forward.
"What did you wish for?"
"Can't tell."
"Why?"
"Because it won't come true."
Daniel smiled.
Then looked toward the screen.
"Is Dominic coming?"
Elena's chest tightened.
"He wants to."
Luca nodded solemnly.
"He's finding Gabriel."
The room became quiet.
Then Matteo said something that made Elena's eyes fill.
"We should save Gabriel some cake."
Leo nodded.
"And Nicholas."
Nico considered this.
"And the other Anthony."
Daniel looked down.
For a moment, he seemed frightened.
Then Luca placed a slice of cake on an empty plate.
"We'll save one for everybody."
Elena turned away from the screen.
She couldn't stop crying.
At 4:09 p.m., Sloane Barrett was released from medical observation.
The boy found with her remained under independent pediatric care while his identity and guardianship were investigated.
Sloane sat across from Detective Mitchell in a quiet hospital consultation room.
Her hands trembled around a glass of water.
"Richard told me the boy's identity had been changed several times," she said.
Mitchell nodded.
"Do you know his biological parents?"
"No."
"Did Richard identify him as the original Baby D?"
"Yes."
"Do you believe him?"
Sloane looked down.
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
Mitchell waited.
Then Sloane added, "But Richard said something else."
"What?"
"He said the child had been held back because his genetic profile didn't match the trust records."
"Which trust records?"
"The original beneficiary designation."
Mitchell leaned forward.
"Did Richard explain whose DNA it was supposed to match?"
Sloane hesitated.
"Dominic's."
Mitchell became still.
Sloane continued.
"He said that if the child was biologically Dominic's, the trust could be challenged."
"Why?"
"Because the records used to establish the succession arrangement were based on a different paternal identity."
Mitchell frowned.
"Meaning?"
Sloane swallowed.
"Richard believed Dominic himself wasn't biologically related to the person listed as his father."
The detective looked at her.
"Vittorio Moretti?"
Sloane nodded.
"But I never saw verified evidence. Only a report Charles kept in his office."
Mitchell made a note.
"And where is that report?"
Sloane looked away.
"Charles took it."
At 5:27 p.m., Dominic entered the room where Michael Vale—known for years as Adriano—was waiting.
Michael sat beside a window.
He had changed into a dark sweater.
Without the charcoal coat, he looked younger.
Less intimidating.
But the resemblance remained.
The same eyebrows.
The same strong jaw.
The same habit of pushing his hair backward while thinking.
Dominic had seen that gesture in Luca.
And in his own reflection.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Michael said, "You found the photograph."
Dominic nodded.
"Yes."
Michael looked down.
"I wondered when that would happen."
"You knew?"
"I knew there were records connecting us."
"And you said nothing."
Michael gave a tired laugh.
"Would you have believed me?"
Dominic considered the question.
"No."
Michael nodded.
"Exactly."
Dominic sat opposite him.
"Richard says Angelo changed our identities."
"I know."
"Are you Vittorio's son?"
Michael looked toward the window.
"I don't know."
"Then why did you accept his name?"
"Because I spent my childhood believing I didn't belong anywhere."
Dominic remained silent.
Michael continued.
"Richard came to the institution when I was fifteen. He said my father was a powerful man who had spent years trying to find me."
"And you believed him."
"Wouldn't you?"
Dominic didn't answer.
Michael smiled sadly.
"Vittorio wasn't affectionate. But he gave me books. Paid for my education. Taught me how the businesses worked."
"Did he ever call you his son?"
Michael's expression changed.
"Once."
Dominic leaned forward.
"When?"
"The night before he died."
Silence.
Michael continued.
"He told me he didn't know whose blood I carried. But he said I'd spent too many years paying for other people's decisions."
Dominic felt his throat tighten.
"What else?"
Michael lowered his eyes.
"He asked me to help find your children."
Dominic froze.
"Before he died?"
"Yes."
"But Elena hadn't told me she was pregnant."
"Vittorio knew."
Dominic closed his eyes.
His father had known.
He had always known.
Michael continued.
"He said Richard and Charles had created something he could no longer control."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because Vittorio made me promise not to approach you until I had proof."
Dominic stared.
"And did you find it?"
Michael hesitated.
"Some."
"Then why help move the children?"
"Because I thought keeping access to Bellwether was the only way to find them."
Dominic's expression hardened.
"And children suffered while you waited."
Michael accepted the accusation.
"Yes."
The honesty surprised him.
For once, someone involved in Project Legacy wasn't trying to justify everything.
Michael looked at him.
"I can't undo what I did."
"No."
"But I can testify."
Dominic leaned forward.
"Will you?"
Michael nodded.
"Yes."
At 6:41 p.m., the forensic team completed a preliminary inventory of the sealed laboratory materials.
Several specimens were too degraded for straightforward testing.
Others appeared usable, pending verification of their labels and chain of custody.
Adrian brought Dominic the update.
"There's enough evidence to begin properly supervised genetic comparisons."
Dominic nodded.
"Between whom?"
"Potentially you, Michael, Isabella, Elena, Sloane, and the children, subject to consent and appropriate legal authorization."
Dominic stared toward the corridor.
"And Vittorio?"
"Investigators are reviewing whether a reliable reference sample exists."
"Angelo?"
"Possibly through stored records or lawful familial comparisons."
Dominic exhaled.
It wouldn't be simple.
A genetic result could establish biological relationships.
It couldn't automatically determine which legal identity belonged to which child.
It couldn't undo false guardianship orders.
And it certainly couldn't repair the emotional damage.
But it would give them something Project Legacy had tried to eliminate.
Independent evidence.
"How long?" Dominic asked.
Adrian shook his head.
"I won't give you a timeline the laboratory can't guarantee."
Dominic nodded.
He was finally learning patience.
Not because he wanted to wait.
But because rushing had been the foundation of too many mistakes.
At 7:18 p.m., Richard requested another conversation.
Dominic entered the interview room with his attorney present.
His uncle looked exhausted.
"Did you find Michael?" Richard asked.
"Yes."
"Is he cooperating?"
"That's not your concern."
Richard lowered his eyes.
Dominic sat.
"I want to know what Angelo did to us."
Richard remained silent.
"To me and Michael."
A pause.
Then Richard whispered, "Your grandfather believed family loyalty could be manufactured."
Dominic stared.
"What does that mean?"
"He believed a child raised as a Moretti would become a Moretti, regardless of blood."
Dominic felt a chill.
"And the trust?"
"That was his way of controlling the arrangement."
"Why two babies?"
Richard looked toward the table.
"Because Vittorio's marriage was in trouble."
Dominic frowned.
"What?"
"Your mother had struggled through several pregnancies. Angelo feared there might never be a recognized male heir."
Dominic's expression hardened.
"Then?"
"An arrangement was made with another family."
"Michael's family?"
"Possibly."
Dominic leaned forward.
"Possibly?"
"Charles handled the medical records. Angelo handled the legal documents. I only learned parts of it later."
Dominic stared.
"You expect me to believe you knew nothing?"
"No."
Richard's voice broke.
"I knew enough to stop it. And I didn't."
Dominic remained silent.
His uncle looked up.
"There were two infants. One was biologically connected to Vittorio. The other was assigned to his household."
Dominic felt cold.
"Which one was I?"
Richard's eyes filled.
"I don't know."
Dominic stared.
For once, he believed him.
Not because Richard was trustworthy.
But because the system had apparently been designed so that nobody outside a tiny circle could identify both children with certainty.
"Who knew?" Dominic asked.
Richard swallowed.
"Angelo."
"He's dead."
"Charles."
"He's missing."
"Anyone else?"
Richard hesitated.
Then whispered:
"Your mother."
Dominic stopped breathing.
His mother.
The woman who had called him six times on the night he discovered the boys.
The woman who helped select Sloane's engagement ring.
The woman who had spent his life insisting that family reputation came before everything.
"She knew?" he whispered.
Richard nodded.
"She was there when the identities were assigned."
At 8:04 p.m., Dominic called his mother.
Victoria Moretti answered on the third ring.
"Dominic."
Her voice was controlled.
Familiar.
Almost comforting.
"Where have you been? People are saying terrible things about Richard."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"Mother."
"What?"
"Did you know about Michael Vale?"
Silence.
Then she asked quietly, "Who told you that name?"
Dominic's chest tightened.
"Did you know about the babies?"
A long pause.
"Dominic, come home."
"Answer me."
Her voice trembled.
"Please."
"Did you know the identity on my birth certificate might not be mine?"
For several seconds, there was no sound.
Then Victoria whispered:
"Yes."
Dominic felt the world go still.
The woman who had raised him had known.
All along.
"Why?"
She began crying softly.
"Because I was afraid they'd take you away."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"Who?"
"Angelo."
He leaned against the wall.
"What did he do?"
Victoria's voice broke.
"He told me the family needed an heir. He told me one child would be recognized and the other would be placed somewhere safe."
"Which child was I?"
Silence.
"Mother."
She sobbed.
"I don't know anymore."
Dominic felt cold.
"What does that mean?"
"The records were changed. The babies were moved. Angelo said everything had been settled."
"Did you hold both children?"
"Yes."
His throat tightened.
"Do you remember anything?"
Victoria hesitated.
Then whispered:
"One of them had a small mark beneath his left shoulder."
Dominic froze.
A mark.
The same detail Isabella had associated with Anthony's newborn medical procedure.
But that mark could have belonged to another child.
And medical scars could be documented incorrectly.
"Which baby had it?" Dominic asked.
Victoria began crying harder.
"The one Angelo said I couldn't keep."
Dominic stopped breathing.
"Michael?"
"I don't know."
He closed his eyes.
"Mother, why didn't you tell me?"
Her voice broke.
"Because by the time I realized what had happened, you were already calling me Mommy."
Dominic lowered his head.
For thirty-seven years, Victoria had loved him.
Had raised him.
Had comforted him when he was sick.
Had taught him to read.
And had concealed the possibility that he wasn't biologically hers.
The contradiction hurt more than he expected.
"Did you love me?" he asked quietly.
Victoria began sobbing.
"Every day."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"Then why did you let them do this?"
A long silence followed.
Then she whispered:
"Because Angelo told me if I refused, neither child would come home."
At 8:49 p.m., Dominic returned to the archive.
Elena was waiting.
One look at his face told her something had happened.
"What?"
He sat heavily.
"My mother knew."
Elena closed her eyes.
"About Michael?"
"Yes."
She sat beside him.
For several minutes, he said nothing.
Then he whispered:
"I don't know who I am."
Elena took his hand.
"You're the man who came back for his children."
He looked at her.
"After six years."
"You didn't know."
He swallowed.
"You're the man who stopped an engagement rather than continue a lie," she added.
"That doesn't erase what happened."
"No."
She squeezed his hand.
"But you can decide what happens next."
Dominic looked at her.
For years, he had believed identity was inherited.
Now he understood it was also something built through choices.
His grandfather chose power.
His father chose secrecy.
His uncle chose control.
Dominic had to choose something else.
He lifted Elena's hand to his lips.
"I want to build a family that doesn't need secrets to survive."
Her eyes filled.
"So do I."
For a moment, they sat quietly.
Then Dominic's phone vibrated.
An urgent message from Adrian.
CHARLES BARRETT LOCATED.
Dominic stood.
"Where?"
Adrian replied immediately.
AT THE PRIVATE TRUST OFFICE. HE'S ATTEMPTING TO EXECUTE THE BENEFICIARY TRANSFER.
Dominic felt his pulse hammer.
The trust verification was happening.
Without Nicholas.
Without Matteo.
Without Gabriel.
Without independently verified identities.
"How?" Dominic demanded.
Another message appeared.
HE HAS A COURT FILING AND AN EMERGENCY BENEFICIARY CERTIFICATE.
Dominic stared.
"Whose name?"
A pause.
Then Adrian's answer appeared.
MICHAEL VALE.
Dominic stopped breathing.
Michael.
The man who had claimed to be Adriano.
The man whose birth identity had been altered.
The man who had just agreed to testify.
Why would Charles suddenly designate him as beneficiary?
Then a final message arrived.
THE CERTIFICATE STATES MICHAEL VALE IS THE SOLE VERIFIED BIOLOGICAL SON OF VITTORIO MORETTI.
Dominic stared at the screen.
The trust had shifted again.
The children were no longer the primary target.
Someone had returned to the original generation.
To the two newborn boys.
To the moment Angelo Moretti decided only one could inherit the name.
Then Michael entered the archive.
His face was pale.
"Dominic."
Dominic turned.
"Did you know?"
Michael looked confused.
"Know what?"
"Charles is using your name to claim the trust."
Michael froze.
"What?"
Dominic showed him the message.
For several seconds, Michael stared.
Then his expression changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Dominic felt cold.
"Michael."
The man slowly looked up.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Michael swallowed.
"I didn't sign anything."
"Then why does Charles have a certificate?"
His expression darkened.
"Because he found the original blood sample."
Dominic stopped breathing.
"What blood sample?"
"The one Angelo collected before the babies were separated."
Dominic felt his pulse quicken.
"Where?"
Michael hesitated.
"Room Zero."
Dominic stared around the archive.
"The specimens?"
Michael shook his head.
"Not the ones you found."
"Then what?"
Michael looked toward the far wall.
"There's another compartment."
Dominic felt cold.
"Where?"
Michael approached the old photograph of the two newborn boys.
He lifted it from its frame.
Behind it was a small recessed panel.
Dominic stared.
Michael pressed the mechanism.
A hidden drawer slid open.
Inside was a black metal case.
Michael looked at him.
"This is what Vittorio wanted me to protect."
Dominic felt his heartbeat hammer.
"What is it?"
Michael opened the case.
Inside were two sealed specimen containers.
Each carried an original hospital identification number.
One labeled Dominic.
The other Michael.
And beneath them was a handwritten note from Angelo Moretti.
The boys were tested before reassignment.
Dominic stared.
Michael continued.
"Charles has a copy of the original results."
Dominic looked up.
"And you?"
Michael swallowed.
"I saw them."
Silence.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then Dominic asked the question that had haunted him since Room Zero opened.
"Which one of us is Vittorio's biological son?"
Michael's face crumpled.
For the first time, the man who had survived institutions, false identities, and decades of manipulation looked close to tears.
"Dominic..."
"Tell me."
Michael lowered his head.
Then whispered:
"According to the original report, neither of us."
The room went completely silent.
Dominic stared.
"What?"
Michael looked up.
"The report says Vittorio wasn't the biological father of either baby."
Dominic felt the world tilt.
"Then who was?"
Michael shook his head.
"I don't know."
Dominic looked toward the sealed containers.
The photograph.
The documents.
The decades of lies.
For thirty-seven years, he had lived beneath the shadow of Vittorio Moretti.
Trying to earn his approval.
Trying to protect his name.
Trying to become the man his father wanted him to be.
And now the records suggested Vittorio might never have been his biological father.
But before Dominic could speak, Michael added one final detail.
"There's something else."
Dominic slowly looked up.
"What?"
Michael's eyes filled.
"The original report identifies the two infants as full biological brothers."
Dominic stopped breathing.
Brothers.
Not merely two children whose identities had been exchanged.
Not strangers forced into the same family history.
Biological brothers.
And if Vittorio wasn't their father, someone else had fathered both boys.
Someone whose identity had been erased.
Michael looked directly into Dominic's eyes.
Then whispered:
"Charles knows who our real father is."
The silence stretched between them.
And from Dominic's phone came one final notification.
A photograph of an old laboratory report.
A highlighted paternal identifier.
A name.
ANGELO MORETTI.
Dominic's grandfather.
The man who built Project Legacy.
The man who ordered the reassignment.
The man who decided only one boy could inherit the Moretti name.
According to the document, Angelo hadn't simply manipulated the identities of two children.
He was their biological father.
And Vittorio Moretti—the man who raised Dominic—was actually his older half-brother.