Chapter 5 - My Mother’s Secret
I stared at the photograph until the screen dimmed.
My mother was alive.
Matteo stood beside her.
Lily was gone.
And for the first time, I couldn't tell whether Isabella was a prisoner or part of the trap.
Marco grabbed my phone.
“Zoom in.”
He studied the image.
“Look at her hands.”
Isabella's wrists weren't bound.
Neither were her ankles.
She was standing freely.
Elena whispered, “That doesn't mean she's with him.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because your mother saved my life.”
I turned.
“When?”
“Eleven years ago.”
Elena told us the truth.
After my father's murder, Isabella discovered that someone inside our organization was eliminating everyone connected to Salvatore's investigation.
Carlo Bellandi hid Marco.
Isabella hid Elena.
The war between our families had been manufactured.
Someone wanted Romano and Bellandi destroying each other while he quietly absorbed their networks.
“Matteo?” I asked.
Elena shook her head.
“He was involved. But he wasn't the architect.”
“Then who was?”
“I never knew.”
“Why come into my house?”
“Because Isabella contacted me seven months ago.”
My mother had sent her.
“She believed the traitor was preparing to move against you.”
“And the pendant?”
“Evidence.”
“Why was it beside you?”
“I put it there before I lost consciousness.”
“Who drugged you?”
Elena hesitated.
“Sofia.”
Marco swore.
“No.”
“She brought me water. I tasted something. Seconds later, I couldn't stand.”
“Sofia protected Lily.”
“She also knew Isabella was alive.”
Pieces shifted.
Sofia.
The woman who had served my family for decades.
The woman who had just been photographed unconscious.
Victim?
Traitor?
Both?
We returned to my estate.
The gates were open.
No guards.
The mansion looked abandoned.
Inside, the chandeliers still burned.
My mother stood alone in the main hall.
She looked older.
Smaller than I remembered.
But she was Isabella.
I knew before she spoke.
“Dante.”
Seventeen years of anger came out in one question.
“Why?”
She cried.
I didn't.
Not yet.
“Why did you let me believe you were dead?”
“To keep you alive.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
“Where is Lily?”
“Matteo took her downstairs.”
Marco stepped forward.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because he believes I brought the ledger.”
“You're working with him?”
“No.”
“Then why were you standing beside him?”
“Because I've been pretending to work with him for six years.”
Silence.
Isabella looked at me.
“Matteo isn't the traitor.”
“Then who is?”
“He's the traitor's son.”
My father's ledger suddenly made sense.
“Matteo's father?”
“No.”
She swallowed.
“His real father.”
I waited.
“Vittorio.”
My uncle.
Marco looked at me.
“No.”
Isabella continued.
“Vittorio had an affair with Matteo's mother. Salvatore knew. He raised Matteo around the family anyway because he didn't blame the boy.”
“Someone he treated like a son,” I whispered.
Not Matteo.
Vittorio.
My father treated his younger brother like a son after their parents died.
Isabella nodded.
“Vittorio betrayed Salvatore.”
“Why?”
“Power. Money. Resentment. He believed your father controlled everything that should have been his.”
“And Matteo?”
“Found out years later.”
“Why help him?”
“Because Vittorio convinced Matteo that Salvatore destroyed his mother.”
A door opened behind us.
Matteo entered.
Gun in hand.
“Enough.”
Isabella didn't move.
“Where's Lily?” Marco demanded.
“Safe.”
“If you've touched her—”
“I haven't.”
Matteo looked exhausted.
Not triumphant.
“Vittorio has Sofia and Lily below.”
“Why?”
“He wants the ledger.”
I held it up.
“Then let's finish this.”
Matteo stared at me.
“You still don't understand.”
“Explain.”
“Vittorio doesn't care about the money anymore.”
“What does he want?”
“The original confession.”
“What confession?”
“Your father's.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
I looked at her.
“Mother?”
She whispered, “Salvatore recorded everything the night he died.”
“Where?”
“Inside Lily's teddy bear.”
Marco stared.
“We found the flash drive.”
“Not the drive.”
Isabella looked at the bear Matteo held.
“The voice recorder sewn inside its head.”
Matteo cut open the teddy bear.
A tiny recorder fell out.
He pressed play.
Static.
Then my father's voice.
“Vittorio, put the gun down.”
Another voice.
Vittorio.
“You always got everything.”
“You're my brother.”
“I was your shadow.”
“You sold us to Bellandi's enemies.”
“I built something bigger than this family.”
“You'll destroy our children.”
“Your children.”
A gunshot.
The recording ended.
Proof.
Undeniable.
Matteo looked broken.
“He lied to me my entire life.”
“Help us,” I said.
“I already am.”
He gave me the recorder.
Then the basement intercom crackled.
Vittorio's voice.
“Very touching.”
We looked up.
“You always were sentimental, Isabella.”
My mother went pale.
Vittorio continued.
“Bring the recorder downstairs, Dante.”
I picked up the intercom.
“Let Lily go.”
“You know me better than that.”
“You raised me.”
“Yes.”
“And now you're threatening a three-year-old.”
A pause.
“History requires sacrifices.”
Marco moved toward the basement door.
I stopped him.
Vittorio's voice returned.
“Come alone, Dante.”
The basement door unlocked with a heavy click.
Then Lily screamed from somewhere below.
And another voice shouted after her.
Sofia.
May you like
“Dante, don't come down! He has—”
A gunshot cut her off.
