The Mafia Boss’s Dog

PART 3 – The Dog Who Remembered

Richard Moretti entered the mansion ten minutes later.

He was an elegant older man in his late sixties, wearing an expensive navy suit and carrying a silver-headed cane.

His smile was warm.

His eyes weren’t.

“Well, well. Elizabeth’s daughter.”

I stood beside Dante.

“How do you know my mother?”

Richard chuckled.

“Your mother was a very loyal employee. A little too curious for her own good, unfortunately.”

Dante stepped between us.

“Watch your words, Uncle.”

Richard raised both hands.

“Relax, Dante. I’m only here to welcome our unexpected guest.”

His gaze shifted toward Orion.

“Although I see the dog has already made his choice.”

Orion immediately stood.

His ears flattened.

A low growl emerged from his chest.

Richard’s smile faded.

“Still an unpleasant animal, I see.”

“Orion,” Dante ordered.

But the dog didn’t move.

Instead, he stepped directly in front of me, protecting my legs.

I placed a hand on his back.

“It’s okay, boy.”

Orion looked up at me.

Then, slowly, he turned his head toward Richard and barked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Richard’s face went pale.

Dante noticed.

“What are you afraid of, Uncle?”

“Nothing. Your dog needs better training.”

Dante’s expression hardened.

“Interesting. Orion hasn’t reacted like that to anyone in years.”

Richard adjusted his cufflinks.

“I came here to discuss business, not dogs.”

“Then discuss it with my office.”

Richard turned toward me one last time.

“Your mother should have stayed away from this family, Olivia. She would still be alive if she had.”

My entire body went cold.

Dante grabbed his uncle’s arm.

“Get out.”

Richard pulled away.

“You’re making a mistake, Dante. Some secrets are better left buried.”

After he left, I struggled to catch my breath.

Dante turned toward me.

“What did he mean by that?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know.”

But I suddenly remembered something.

My mother had always told me never to open the small wooden box she kept beneath her bed.

After she died, I had taken it with me when I moved into my aunt’s house.

I still had it.

“Mr. Moretti, I think I have something.”

Dante immediately called for his driver.

An hour later, we arrived at my small apartment.

I retrieved the dusty wooden box from the back of my closet.

The silver key fit perfectly.

Inside were several letters, a faded hospital bracelet, and a small cassette recorder.

My hands trembled as I pressed PLAY.

A familiar voice filled the room.

My mother’s voice.

“Olivia, my sweet girl. If you’re hearing this, then someone has finally discovered the truth about the Moretti family.”

I covered my mouth.

Dante stood completely still.

The recording continued.

“Twenty-seven years ago, Isabella Moretti didn’t die from an illness. Someone poisoned her medication. I discovered the truth, but I couldn’t prove who was responsible.”

There was a pause.

Then my mother’s voice became quieter.

“I knew the person responsible would eventually come after me. So I took the evidence and ran.”

Dante’s face had lost all color.

“Who did it?” he whispered.

The recording continued.

“Isabella had a little brother who was only six years old. I couldn’t let him grow up in a family that had murdered his sister.”

Dante closed his eyes.

His hands slowly curled into fists.

Then my mother said something neither of us expected.

“I left the original evidence with the only person I believed would protect it. The man who loved Isabella more than anyone.”

A long silence followed.

Then she gave a name.

“Your grandfather, Anthony Moretti.”

Dante stared at the recorder.

“My grandfather died twenty years ago.”

“I know,” I whispered.

But the recording wasn’t finished.

My mother’s final words made everything even more complicated.

“Olivia, there’s one more thing. The little girl I was carrying in that photograph wasn’t Isabella.”

I frowned.

“What?”

Dante slowly turned toward me.

My mother’s voice continued.

“She was your sister. The Moretti family believed she died with Isabella, but I managed to save her. I gave her to a family I trusted.”

My knees nearly gave way.

“I had a sister?”

Dante caught my arm before I fell.

The recording ended with one final sentence.

“Her name is Charlotte. And if she’s still alive, she is the only person who can lead you to the truth.”

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then Dante’s phone rang.

He answered immediately.

“What?”

A man’s voice came through the speaker.

“Boss, we’ve identified the woman in the old photograph. We also found the adoption records.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed.

“Where is she?”

The man hesitated.

“She’s in New York, sir. Her name is Charlotte Reed.”

I grabbed Dante’s sleeve.

“She’s alive?”

He nodded slowly.

But before he could answer, the man on the phone added something else.

“There’s a problem, Boss. Someone else has been searching for her.”

“Who?”

A pause.

Then the answer came.

“Richard Moretti.”

Dante looked at me, his expression turning deadly.

“Lock down the estate. Nobody gets near Olivia or Orion.”

I looked down at the enormous dog.

Orion pressed his head against my hand.

For the first time, I understood something.

He hadn’t chosen me simply because I had been kind to him.

He had recognized the scent of the woman who had once saved someone he loved.

And somewhere in New York, my sister was waiting.

But Richard Moretti knew she was alive.

And he was already hunting her.