Chapter 4 - The Name Behind the Silence
Matteo did not run.
That frightened Rosa more than if he had.
He simply held the record sleeve in both hands.
Aleandro walked toward him.
“Where did you get that?”
Matteo glanced toward Carlo’s room.
“From my father.”
Aleandro stopped.
Rosa stayed several feet behind him.
“Explain.”
Matteo looked exhausted.
“My father was Enzo Russo.”
“I know who your father was.”
“You know who he pretended to be.”
Aleandro’s face changed.
Matteo continued.
“Enzo was not only your father’s driver.”
Samuel arrived from the opposite corridor.
When he saw Matteo holding the record, his expression fell.
“Oh, God.”
Matteo looked at him.
“You knew.”
Samuel closed his eyes.
“I suspected.”
Aleandro’s voice dropped.
“Knew what?”
Matteo held out the record.
“My father helped Victor Hale.”
Silence.
Rosa watched Aleandro’s hands curl into fists.
Matteo raised his chin.
“If you want to hit me, do it after you hear the rest.”
Aleandro did not move.
“You have thirty seconds.”
“My father discovered Victor had been stealing. Instead of reporting him, he demanded a cut.”
Aleandro stared.
“They worked together?”
“For two years.”
Samuel leaned against the wall.
Matteo continued.
“When your mother found out, Enzo panicked.”
“What did he do?”
“He destroyed documents. Changed ledgers. Misled Carlo.”
“And the medical treatment?”
Matteo swallowed.
“That was Carlo.”
Aleandro’s eyes hardened.
“My father stopped my mother from leaving.”
“Yes.”
“So he is responsible.”
“Partly.”
“What does partly mean?”
Matteo looked toward Samuel.
Samuel spoke quietly.
“Lucia’s condition worsened sooner than expected.”
“Because?”
Samuel hesitated.
“We believed stress accelerated the cardiac damage.”
Aleandro laughed bitterly.
“So everyone contributed.”
“No,” Rosa said softly.
All three men looked at her.
She immediately regretted speaking.
But she continued.
“Your mother wasn’t destroyed by one person’s mistake. She was surrounded by people who kept choosing secrecy.”
Aleandro stared at her.
Rosa’s voice remained quiet.
“Those aren’t the same thing.”
Matteo looked down.
“You sound like her.”
Rosa shook her head.
“I never knew her.”
“No,” Matteo said. “But your father did.”
He handed Rosa the record.
“This belongs to you as much as Aleandro.”
She did not take it.
“Why?”
“Because Enzo spent the rest of his life trying to find Antonio’s copy.”
Rosa’s stomach tightened.
“My father died in a car accident.”
Matteo looked at her.
“Yes.”
The word felt wrong.
Rosa’s voice dropped.
“Was it an accident?”
Matteo did not answer quickly enough.
Aleandro stepped between them.
“Answer her.”
Matteo swallowed.
“My father followed Antonio that night.”
Rosa felt the hallway tilt.
“Why?”
“He wanted the recording.”
“Did he cause the crash?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Rosa’s eyes filled.
For four years, she had imagined her father’s final minutes.
Rain.
Wet road.
Bad turn.
Bad luck.
Now every memory felt contaminated.
Aleandro turned to Matteo.
“You knew this when she came to work here?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I didn’t know Rosa was Antonio’s daughter until this morning.”
“You approved employee files.”
“I approved hundreds.”
Rosa looked at Matteo.
“You knew my surname.”
“Bellini isn’t uncommon.”
“My father’s name?”
“I never read the emergency contact history.”
Aleandro took out his phone.
“To security?”
Matteo did not stop him.
“Go ahead.”
Aleandro called.
“Pull Bellini’s employment review. Every person who approved it. Send it now.”
He ended the call.
Rosa hugged herself.
“I want to see my mother.”
Aleandro looked at her.
“I’ll drive you.”
“No.”
“Rosa—”
“I don’t want the Romano family near my mother.”
The words were harsher than she intended.
Aleandro flinched.
Just slightly.
Rosa saw it.
But she did not apologize.
Not yet.
Samuel stepped closer.
“You should not go alone.”
“Why?”
“Because if Antonio’s copy still exists, other people may know.”
Rosa stared.
“Victor Hale is gone.”
Samuel said, “Victor is gone.”
The way he said it made Aleandro narrow his eyes.
“What aren’t you telling us?”
Samuel looked toward Matteo.
“Victor had a son.”
Matteo whispered, “No.”
Aleandro frowned.
“What?”
Matteo looked shaken for the first time.
“His son died.”
Samuel shook his head.
“That is what everyone believed.”
He reached into his coat.
This time, he removed a newspaper clipping.
A photograph showed a teenage boy.
Name: Daniel Hale.
Samuel said, “Daniel disappeared with his mother after Victor vanished.”
Aleandro read the clipping.
“What does he have to do with Rosa?”
“I don’t know.”
Samuel looked at the tool case.
“But three months ago, someone contacted me asking whether Antonio Bellini had children.”
Rosa went cold.
Aleandro’s gaze sharpened.
“Who?”
“The message was anonymous.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought it was spam.”
Aleandro nearly shouted.
Rosa interrupted.
“What exactly did they ask?”
Samuel thought.
“They wrote: ‘Did the repairman leave a daughter?’”
Rosa’s skin prickled.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
She looked toward Matteo.
“That was before I started repairing the gramophone.”
“Yes,” Samuel said.
“Then someone was already looking for me.”
Aleandro made a decision.
“We leave for Queens in ten minutes.”
Rosa started to object.
He held up one hand.
“This isn’t about control.”
His voice softened.
“Your mother may be in danger.”
That ended the argument.
They took two cars.
Rosa rode with Aleandro.
For the first twenty minutes, neither spoke.
Finally he said, “I’m sorry.”
She looked out the window.
“For what part?”
“My family touching your life.”
“That’s vague.”
“For all of it.”
Rosa looked at him.
Aleandro Romano did not seem like a man who apologized often.
She could tell because he looked almost physically uncomfortable.
“My father loved repairing things,” she said.
“He probably thought your mother’s gramophone was beautiful.”
Aleandro looked ahead.
“She loved that machine.”
“Why?”
“She said music made rooms less lonely.”
Rosa smiled faintly.
“That sounds like something my father would have liked.”
Aleandro’s expression softened.
They reached Queens shortly after noon.
Rosa’s mother, Teresa Bellini, lived above the old repair shop.
The faded sign still read:
BELLINI RADIO & CLOCK REPAIR.
Rosa rushed upstairs.
“Ma?”
No answer.
She called again.
“Ma?”
The apartment door was open.
Aleandro immediately moved in front of her.
“Stay behind me.”
Rosa hated the instruction.
But she obeyed.
Inside, chairs were overturned.
Cabinets open.
Drawers emptied.
“Ma!”
Rosa ran toward the bedroom.
Empty.
Her mother’s coat was gone.
So was her purse.
Aleandro checked the kitchen.
“No signs of a struggle.”
Rosa grabbed her phone.
Called.
It rang.
Then she heard it.
A faint ringtone.
Inside the apartment.
She followed the sound.
Her mother’s phone lay beneath the couch.
Rosa’s hands began shaking.
Aleandro crouched beside her.
“Rosa.”
“She never goes anywhere without this.”
A sound came from downstairs.
Metal scraping.
Aleandro stood.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“My mother is missing.”
They descended together.
The repair shop was dark.
Dust covered the shelves.
Rosa had not entered since her father’s funeral.
Aleandro found the switch.
Lights flickered on.
And there—
sitting calmly behind Antonio Bellini’s old workbench—
was an unfamiliar man.
Mid-forties.
Dark coat.
Gray eyes.
A scar along his jaw.
He held a record sleeve in one hand.
Rosa stopped.
“Where is my mother?”
The man looked at her.
“You’re Rosa.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s safe.”
Aleandro stepped forward.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled without warmth.
“You already know.”
Aleandro stared.
“Daniel Hale.”
Daniel’s eyes moved toward him.
“Your father destroyed mine.”
Rosa’s voice shook.
“My mother.”
Daniel pointed toward the back room.
“She’s there.”
Rosa started forward.
Aleandro grabbed her arm.
Daniel spoke calmly.
“I didn’t hurt her.”
“Then why take her?”
“I didn’t.”
Rosa froze.
Daniel looked toward the rear door.
“She came here because someone called her pretending to be you.”
Rosa stared.
“What?”
Daniel placed a photograph on the workbench.
“I came because I intercepted the same message.”
Aleandro picked it up.
The photograph showed Rosa leaving Romano Estate.
Taken yesterday.
From a distance.
On the back were three words.
FIND THE REPAIRMAN’S GIRL.
Rosa felt sick.
Daniel leaned forward.
“You think this is about what happened fourteen years ago.”
Aleandro’s eyes narrowed.
“It is.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He slid another photograph onto the table.
This one was recent.
Carlo Romano.
Standing.
Healthy.
Taken less than six months ago.
Aleandro stared.
“My father has been bedridden for almost a year.”
“Apparently not.”
Then Daniel placed a final photograph beside it.
Carlo stood next to another man.
The face was partially hidden.
But Rosa recognized the silver watch.
Matteo Russo’s watch.
Aleandro looked at Rosa.
Then toward the door.
His phone rang.
Matteo.
Aleandro answered.
“Where are you?”
Matteo’s voice came through the speaker.
“Whatever Daniel showed you, don’t believe him.”
Aleandro said nothing.
Matteo continued.
“Come back to the estate.”
“Why?”
A pause.
Then:
“Your father is gone.”
Aleandro’s face changed.
“What do you mean gone?”
Matteo’s voice dropped.
“His room is empty.”
May you like
Another pause.
“And someone opened your mother’s private vault.”
