Chapter 15 – The Birthday Party
I was pacing the sitting room as I stared at my watch. The doctor was supposed to call me hours ago. Just then my phone rang and I picked it up hurriedly.
“Mr. Moretti,” the doctor said on the other end, “the DNA test result is ready. You can come pick it up.”
My stomach twisted.
But before I could grab my keys, Renata burst into the living room. Her face was tear-stained, and she looked like she’d been crying for hours.
“Lorenzo,” she sobbed. “Please, we need to talk.”
Not now, I groaned inwardly.
I brushed past her without stopping. “Later. I have something to take care of.”
“But-”
“I said later!” I snapped, grabbing my coat and slamming the door behind me.
I drove to the hospital like a madman. I parked half on the curb and didn’t care.
My heart was hammering in my chest as I stepped into the corridor. The nurse led me to the same office I’d been in before.
The doctor handed me an envelope without a word.
My fingers were stiff as I tore it open.
I read it once. Then again. And a third time, just to be sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.
Result: Negative. No biological match between Lorenzo Moretti and Ariella Moretti.
It felt like the world stopped again.
Ariella wasn’t mine. Renata was right, she’s always been right.
Everything I’d felt-the confusion, the guilt, the rage, the moments where I thought maybe, just maybe Sophia wasn’t lying-they all vanished in a heartbeat.
She really was a whore.
She gave birth to another man’s child and dared to accuse Renata. She made me question myself. Doubt my loyalty. Mourn a child that wasn’t even mine.
I crushed the paper in my hand.
I could’ve laughed if I wasn’t so filled with rage.
“Mr. Moretti, is everything alright?” the doctor asked, clearly uncomfortable.
I stood without answering and stormed out.
The hospital doors slammed behind me, but the fury in my chest didn’t calm. If anything, it burned hotter.
When I got home, Renata was curled up on the couch, still crying.
She looked up in surprise when I walked in.
“We’re going shopping,” I said.
“What?” she sniffed. “Now?”
“Yes. I want you to look perfect. Tomorrow, the world will know you’re my wife.”
Her eyes widened. Then they filled with fresh tears-happy ones this time.
“You mean it?” she asked.
“Yes.” Then I turned and waited by the door.
Renata scrambled up, wiping her face. “Give me five minutes.”
We hit the most expensive boutique in the city. No limit. No price tags. I bought her the most elegant white dress in the store, a custom designer piece flown in from Milan.
She twirled in the mirror, glowing. Then came the diamonds. A necklace that could blind a room Earrings shaped like teardrops and a tiara.
And finally… The ring I had given Sophia seven years ago.
The Moretti family insignia-heavy, gold, unmistakable.
Recovered from the corpse we found. Still warm with memories.
I pulled it out of the box and slid it onto Renata’s finger.
Her hand trembled.
“Lorenzo…” she whispered. “This means everything.”
I smiled. “Make sure you wear it tomorrow. The world is watching.”
–
The next night, we arrived at the estate.
My family’s ancestral home was glowing with light and music. The kind of party only my grandfather deserved for making it to eighty without being poisoned or shot.
As we walked in, I held Renata’s hand tightly. Guests turned. They applauded and congratulated Js. Men shook my hand. Women hugged Renata.
My grandmother came forward and pulled her into a soft embrace.
‘My dear,” she whispered. “You’re glowing.”
My grandfather just grunted, nodded once, and went back to sipping his wine.
Still, that was a win.
Everything was coming together.
Midway through the evening, my father cornered me near the wine table.
‘We need to talk,” he muttered.
I raised an eyebrow. “Now?”
“Yes. Something’s off.”
He pulled me aside and leaned in close.
“One investor now owns more than fifty percent of your company’s shares. We can’t trace who it is. All anonymous transactions.”
I stiffened. “That’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible,” he said darkly. “But we won’t talk about this now. After the party, we’l dig.”
I gave a slow nod, unease prickling my neck.
Back in the ballroom, it was time for gifts. Every guest approached the head table to give the old man something meaningful-paintings, rare cigars, ancient coins.
Then Renata stepped forward.
“I have a different kind of gift,” she said, placing a velvet box on the table.
Everyone leaned in.
The box opened-and inside was an ultrasound picture.
Two tiny dots, twins.
A gasp echoed in the room.
“Lorenzo’s having twins!” my grandfather announced.
Cheers erupted. My grandmother clapped her hands. My grandfather finally smiled.
I wrapped my arm around Renata and kissed her cheek.
“She’s not just carrying my children,” I said. “She’s my wife.”
“And the woman who died-Sophia-was never a wife to me. She was a liar. A whore who carriec another man’s child.”
Silence. Then even louder cheers. The crowd ate it up.
My grandfather raised his glass. “Renata shall receive twenty percent of the family shares.” More applause. More celebration.
And then-
The doors opened.
A soft, cold breeze swept in.
A female voice echoed through the hall.
‘I also come bearing gifts.”
Everyone turned. I turned and time stopped.
There she stood.
Sophia. Dressed in a silver dress. Her hair was done in elegant waves. Her makeup was flawless.
But she wasn’t alone.
A man stood beside her. His hand rested lightly at the small of her back.
Sophia’s lips curled into a smirk and my blood went cold.
She’s alive and she’s with another man!
Sophia’s Pov
