Chapter 5 - I Found Lorenzo’s Grandmother—and Learned Why She Trusted My Mother
We tracked Lorenzo's grandmother to a farmhouse outside Detroit.
She had been taken by Victor's men.
Lorenzo wanted to go alone.
I refused.
“You said to let someone protect me.”
“I did.”
“Then let me help you protect her.”
He stared at me.
“You don't belong here.”
“I know.”
“But you're coming anyway.”
“Yes.”
We found the farmhouse surrounded by guards.
The plan was simple.
Get in.
Find her.
Get out.
Nothing about our lives was ever simple again.
Inside, we found Lorenzo's grandmother tied to a chair.
She smiled when she saw me.
“I knew you would come.”
Lorenzo freed her.
“Who did this?”
She looked at me.
“Your mother.”
I froze.
“What?”
“My mother?”
“My dear.”
She touched my face.
“Your mother and I knew each other long before you met Lorenzo.”
I stared at her.
“How?”
“She once saved my life.”
Lorenzo looked shocked.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father forbade it.”
“Why?”
“Because he feared what Victor would do if he knew.”
My mother had been connected to the Moretti family.
Not as an enemy.
As an ally.
She had worked with Lorenzo's father to hide families from Victor.
My mother had known about the Black Rose account.
But she never used it.
She kept the records because one day, she knew they might be needed.
Lorenzo's grandmother handed me a small key.
“Your mother told me to keep this until you were ready.”
“What does it open?”
“Your childhood home.”
I stared.
“That's impossible. We sold it.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“You think your mother's life was as simple as cleaning houses?”
My heart raced.
We returned to Detroit.
I opened the old house.
Behind a loose brick was a metal box.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
And one video recording.
My mother's voice filled the room.
“Emily, if you're watching this, then I failed to protect you completely.”
Tears filled my eyes.
She explained everything.
My father had been murdered by people trying to seize the Black Rose network.
My mother escaped with me and Noah.
She made herself look poor.
She worked cleaning houses.
She changed identities.
She kept us invisible.
I cried.
“You weren't poor because you had no money,” I whispered.
“You were poor because you were protecting us.”
The recording continued.
“Lorenzo Moretti's father promised to protect you if anything happened to me.”
I looked at Lorenzo.
He had tears in his eyes.
The recording ended.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Lorenzo said, “Your mother sacrificed everything.”
“Yes.”
“She trusted my father.”
“Yes.”
“And my father trusted me.”
I smiled weakly.
“Apparently.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“I should have told you sooner.”
“What?”
“My father knew your family.”
I stared.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“When did you find out?”
“When your mother was poisoned.”
I looked at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know whether the truth would hurt you more.”
I touched his hand.
“I'd rather have the truth.”
He nodded.
“I promise.”
Then we found the final document.
A ledger.
Victor had been stealing from both families for decades.
The names inside included judges, businessmen, attorneys, and trusted members of Lorenzo's own organization.
At the bottom was one name circled in red.
Marco DeSantis.
Lorenzo's second-in-command.
His closest friend.
His most trusted man.
Lorenzo stared at the name.
“Impossible.”
The farmhouse doors exploded open.
Marco stood outside.
May you like
He had betrayed them.
And he was not alone.
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