The Moretti Mansion Secret – Part 2
Mrs. Harper stood in the doorway of the hidden maintenance room, looking like a woman who had finally reached the end of a long road of silence. For years, she had polished the floors, arranged flowers, served meals, and watched over the Moretti estate.
But now, with the truth sitting between us in the form of a tiny recording device hidden inside the ventilation system, the image of the loyal housekeeper began to crack. “Tell me everything,” Vincent said.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
I had learned enough about him in only a few hours to recognize that his quietness was more dangerous than anger.
Mrs. Harper looked at the floor.
“I should have told you sooner.”
“Yes,” Vincent replied.
“You should have.”
The words hit her harder than shouting would have.
She took a shaky breath.
“After Isabella died, you were broken, Mr. Moretti. Everyone saw it. You stopped sleeping. You stopped eating. You barely left your office. The boys were the only thing keeping you alive.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t talk about my grief. Tell me about Blake.”
Mrs. Harper closed her eyes.
“Dr. Blake was already involved before Isabella’s accident.”
I felt a chill move through me.
“Before?” I asked.
She nodded.
“He was one of the specialists Isabella trusted.”
Vincent turned sharply.
“My wife trusted him?”
“Yes.”
The billionaire who controlled companies, negotiated billion-dollar deals, and intimidated entire boardrooms suddenly looked like a man hearing something impossible.
“Why?”
Mrs. Harper hesitated.
“Because he convinced her that he wanted to help.”
I stepped closer.
“What kind of help?”
She looked at me.
“The kind that sounded like love.”
That sentence stayed in the room.
Because that was how manipulation worked.
It rarely arrived wearing a mask.
It arrived offering comfort.
Protection.
Answers.
Mrs. Harper continued.
“Isabella believed something was wrong with the boys before anyone else noticed symptoms. She thought it was environmental. She kept saying the house felt different.”
Vincent froze.
“What do you mean?”
“She said the boys were worse when they stayed home for long periods.”
I glanced toward the ventilation system.
The same thought had already formed in my mind.
“Did she tell Dr. Blake?”
Mrs. Harper nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“And then?”
Her eyes filled with regret.
“Then she stopped talking about it.”
