Bianca sat still on the armchair, her whole weight rested upon it like it was her only support in life. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, “Vittorio Morreti’s daughter, could this be true?” She had a flash of thought about her foster father, Carlo. “Could he have known?” She asked herself. She thought of all the training he had given her, what was it all really about? Maybe she was being prepared by her foster father as a weapon to destroy their enemies. But why then abandon her? None of them made any sense to her, she just sat there thinking about anything possible.
“Knock knock…” came the sound from the door before Isabella threw it open. She had an antique leather-covered photo album in her hand. “All the Proof you may need is in here.” She said as she handed the photo album to Bia
