Chapter 4: The Signature I Never Gave
The question stayed between us.
"Natalie, what exactly happened three years ago?""
I stared at the document in Luca Moretti's hand.
The paper looked ordinary.
White.
Clean.
Harmless.
But I knew better.
Some papers didn't just carry words.
They carried consequences.
"I don't know why my signature is on that.""
Victor let out a quiet laugh.
"Of course you don't.""
I turned toward him.
"Stop talking.""
His smile widened.
"Still doing that thing where you pretend if you speak confidently enough, people will believe you?""
My hands curled into fists.
"You came here for something.""
"Actually, I came here for you.""
"Why?""
Victor looked at Luca.
Then back at me.
"Because you owe me.""
The words hit harder than they should have.
Not because I believed him.
Because I remembered hearing them before.
Three years ago.
After everything collapsed.
After the calls started.
After strangers demanded money I didn't have.
Victor had said the same thing.
You owe me.
As if I was the one who disappeared.
As if I was the one who left someone behind.
Luca noticed my reaction.
"You owe him?""
I looked at him immediately.
"No.""
Victor interrupted.
"She does.""
Luca's expression hardened.
"Explain.""
Victor walked toward the desk.
"I invested everything into a business opportunity. Natalie helped with the paperwork.""
"I did not.""
His eyes moved to me.
"You signed.""
"I signed documents you told me were loan applications.""
Victor shrugged.
"Details.""
My stomach turned.
"Details?""
My voice rose.
"You told me you needed my information because you couldn't get approved alone.""
"And I needed help.""
"You used me.""
The room became silent.
Victor looked offended.
"You benefited too.""
I laughed once.
A bitter sound.
"How?""
"You believed in me.""
I stared at him.
For a second, I couldn't believe those words came from his mouth.
"Believing in you isn't a benefit.""
Victor's face tightened.
"You always did think you were better than me.""
"No.""
I looked at him.
"I thought you were my brother.""
Something flickered across his expression.
Guilt.
Maybe.
Or maybe I wanted to see it.
Then it disappeared.
Luca placed the document back on the desk.
"What company?""
Victor looked at him.
"The company listed on the paperwork.""
"That wasn't my question.""
The room changed.
Even Victor felt it.
Luca Moretti wasn't asking because he was curious.
He was asking because he expected answers.
"Moretti Holdings," Victor finally said.
My heart dropped.
Luca went completely still.
I didn't understand why.
Not until he looked back at the papers.
"Three years ago?""
Victor nodded.
"Yes.""
"What was the agreement for?""
Victor smiled.
"That's something Natalie can explain.""
I looked at him.
"I have no idea.""
Luca studied me.
"You expect me to believe you don't know?""
The question hurt.
Because it was reasonable.
If I were standing where he stood, maybe I would question me too.
But I hated that Victor had brought this into my life again.
"I know how it looks.""
"Do you?""
His voice wasn't cruel.
That somehow made it worse.
"Because right now I have documents with your name on them, connected to my family business.""
I swallowed.
"I didn't know.""
Luca watched me carefully.
"Then tell me what you do know.""
I looked down.
And for the first time in years, I allowed myself to remember everything.
Three years earlier, I was twenty-six.
I was working two jobs.
One during the day.
One at night.
My apartment was small enough that I could stand in the kitchen and touch the bedroom door.
But I didn't care.
I was finally independent.
Then Victor came back into my life.
He showed up at my apartment carrying coffee and apologies.
"I know I haven't been around enough.""
That was the first thing he said.
Not hello.
Not how are you.
An apology.
And because I was stupid enough to still love my brother, I let him inside.
"I've been busy.""
I remember looking at him.
"Busy for eight months?""
He looked away.
"I had problems.""
I should have asked what kind.
I should have been careful.
Instead, I made coffee.
Because that's what family does.
They open the door even when they shouldn't.
A week later, he told me about his business idea.
"It could change everything.""
Those words were dangerous.
Because when someone has struggled for a long time, "change everything" sounds like a miracle.
He showed me numbers.
Plans.
Documents.
Everything looked professional.
"I just need help getting started.""
"What kind of help?""
He hesitated.
"Your name.""
I frowned.
"My name?""
"You have better credit.""
I immediately shook my head.
"No.""
"Natalie.""
"No.""
He sighed.
"You don't trust me?""
That question was a weapon.
He knew it.
Because suddenly I wasn't thinking about the paperwork.
I was thinking about proving I was a good sister.
"I trust you.""
Those were the words that ruined my life.
I stopped talking.
The silence returned.
Luca was still watching me.
"Continue.""
My fingers tightened.
"I signed documents.""
Victor smiled.
"There.""
I ignored him.
"But I didn't know what they were.""
"What did you think they were?""
"Loans.""
"And they weren't?""
I shook my head.
"No.""
Luca looked at the papers.
"How do you know?""
"Because when the company failed, I started receiving calls.""
"From who?""
"Lawyers.""
Victor scoffed.
"Here we go.""
I looked at Luca.
"They said I was responsible for financial agreements I never approved.""
"Did you contact your brother?""
I laughed quietly.
"I tried.""
"And?""
"He changed his number.""
Victor's jaw tightened.
"You make everything sound so dramatic.""
I turned toward him.
"You disappeared.""
"I needed time.""
"You left me with strangers threatening me.""
"I was fixing it.""
"By hiding?""
Victor looked away.
That was answer enough.
Luca picked up the documents again.
His eyes scanned the pages.
"These agreements were filed under a subsidiary.""
I looked at him.
"What does that mean?""
"It means someone created a business structure designed to hide ownership.""
Victor's expression shifted.
Only slightly.
But Luca saw it.
"Interesting.""
Victor crossed his arms.
"You think I did something wrong?""
Luca looked at him.
"I think you know more than you're saying.""
Victor laughed.
"You're accusing me?""
"No.""
Luca placed the documents down.
"I'm asking questions.""
The way he said it made the difference clear.
Questions from Luca Moretti were not casual conversations.
They were warnings.
Victor looked irritated.
Then he turned back to me.
"You really trust him?""
I frowned.
"What?""
"You've known this man for two years?""
I said nothing.
Victor smiled.
"And you think he cares?""
Luca's expression didn't change.
But I felt the tension rise.
Victor stepped closer.
"Men like him don't protect people for free.""
"Enough.""
The word came from Luca.
Quiet.
Final.
Victor stopped.
Luca looked at him.
"You came into my home uninvited.""
His voice lowered.
"You accused my employee.""
"You think she's innocent?""
"I think you are avoiding my questions.""
The room went silent.
Then Luca turned to me.
"Natalie.""
I looked up.
"Go upstairs.""
I blinked.
"What?""
"You need to rest your ankle.""
"But—"
"This conversation is over for tonight.""
I hesitated.
Because leaving felt like running.
And I had spent three years running.
"Luca—"
The name slipped out before I realized it.
Not Mr. Moretti.
Luca.
His eyes softened slightly.
Just slightly.
"Go.""
I nodded.
Slowly, I walked toward the door.
But before I left, I heard Victor speak.
"You're making a mistake.""
I stopped.
Luca answered:
"Maybe.""
A pause.
"But the mistake wasn't trusting Natalie.""
My breath caught.
Then Luca continued.
"The mistake was letting someone like you into my house.""
I left before Victor could respond.
I barely made it to my room before the tears came.
Not because of Victor.
I had cried enough years ago.
Not because of the documents.
I had lived with that fear.
I cried because for the first time, someone had looked at the evidence against me and still questioned the person holding it.
But the relief didn't last.
Because when I entered my room, something was waiting on my bed.
A small white envelope.
No name.
No message.
Just my old apartment address written across the front.
The address I hadn't used in three years.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
A photograph of me.
Three years earlier.
Standing outside the Moretti Holdings building.
And on the back, written in black ink, were six words:
*You were there. You just forgot.*
I stared at the message.
My heart pounding.
Because I had never been inside that building.
I had never met anyone from Moretti Holdings.
At least...
That's what I believed.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new message.
Unknown number.
May you like
One sentence.
*Ask Luca what happened the night your brother disappeared.*
