Chapter 5 - Her Mother’s Betrayal Hid a Secret No One Saw Coming
Natalya could not process the sentence.
Her mother.
The woman she had believed dead.
The woman who had cried in her arms.
The woman who had spent decades running from Bellandi.
Had called him.
“Why?”
Elena's hand trembled.
“I had no choice.”
Moretti did not lower his weapon.
“There is always a choice.”
“You've never had a child held at gunpoint.”
“Explain.”
Elena looked at Natalya.
“They took my other daughter.”
Natalya went cold.
“Other daughter?”
Elena nodded.
“You had a sister.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“My sister?”
“She was born after you.”
“What happened?”
“She was taken when she was four.”
Bellandi had used the child to control Elena.
For decades.
He promised to release her if Elena delivered the final Orpheus key.
She never found it.
Until now.
“She is alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Natalya's eyes filled with tears.
“You knew I had a sister.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“I thought keeping you ignorant would keep you alive.”
“That worked brilliantly.”
Her mother's expression collapsed.
Moretti lowered his weapon.
“What's her name?”
“Elisa.”
Natalya whispered the name.
It felt both familiar and foreign.
“What does she look like?”
Elena described her.
A tiny scar above the eyebrow.
Brown eyes.
A crescent-shaped birthmark on the left wrist.
“She would be thirty-one.”
Natalya closed her eyes.
She suddenly remembered a lullaby.
A baby crying.
Her mother whispering in another room.
She had been told it was a neighbor's child.
It had been her sister.
Moretti moved closer.
“When was the last contact?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“What did Bellandi want?”
“The bracelet.”
Natalya looked at the silver bracelet around her wrist.
This bracelet.
“The key is inside.”
Elena nodded.
“He needs it because the final code is biological.”
Natalya stared.
“What does that mean?”
Her mother answered softly.
“Your father designed the last layer around your handwriting.”
Moretti frowned.
“Why?”
“Because he knew you would never lose yourself.”
The code could only be unlocked through a specific handwriting pattern.
Natalya's childhood lessons had prepared her.
Her handwriting contained the final key.
Bellandi needed her alive.
Which explained why she had survived.
But there was another revelation.
The 47 poems were not in Russia.
They were scattered across America.
Each page had been hidden by someone who had sworn loyalty to Viktor.
One was inside a church.
One in a courthouse archive.
One in a restaurant wine cellar.
One in an old library.
And one had been hidden in Cello Nero for twenty years.
Natalya remembered something.
A painting.
An old portrait hanging in the restaurant.
She had cleaned its frame countless times.
There was always a slight looseness in the wood.
Moretti called S.
“Get the restaurant emptied.”
“Boss?”
“Now.”
They returned to Cello Nero under heavy protection.
The portrait was removed.
Behind it was a shallow compartment.
Inside was a black envelope.
Natalya opened it.
The page contained a poem.
This time, no markings.
She recognized the pattern.
Her father had taught her to read the spaces between words.
She decoded the first sentence.
“Luciano Moretti did not control Orpheus.”
Adrien stared.
“What does it say?”
“Your father wasn't the leader.”
“Who was?”
Natalya continued.
“An American judge. Henderson.”
Moretti's face tightened.
She kept reading.
Henderson had not been a victim of the network.
He had been one of its architects.
The money moved through shell companies.
The secrets were traded through diplomatic contacts.
The weapons supply existed separately.
Judge Henderson had united them for one purpose.
Influence.
He could make charges disappear.
He could ruin competitors.
He could place people in political office.
And anyone who threatened him became part of Orpheus.
Moretti's father had eventually tried to escape.
Viktor had tried to expose him.
That was why Viktor disappeared.
That was why Natalya's family had been hunted.
But there was something at the bottom of the document that terrified her.
A signature.
Elena Petrov.
Natalya looked at her mother.
“You worked for Henderson.”
Elena began crying.
“For a short time.”
“You betrayed my father.”
“I tried to save him.”
“You helped them.”
“I did what I had to do.”
Moretti stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Natalya's voice broke.
“You all lied to me.”
She walked away.
Moretti followed.
“Give her space,” S said.
Moretti ignored him.
He found Natalya on the restaurant's rooftop.
She stood beneath the rain.
“My entire life is a lie.”
“Not everything.”
“My father died.”
“Maybe.”
“My mother lied.”
“Yes.”
“My sister was stolen.”
“Yes.”
“And you watched me for eight months.”
“Yes.”
Natalya turned.
“What isn't a lie?”
Moretti stared at her.
“Your father believed you deserved the truth.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Is that enough?”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You deserve more.”
“What?”
“For once, someone should choose you without asking what you can do for them.”
Natalya looked at him.
No one had ever spoken to her like that.
Not her mother.
Not employers.
Not men she had dated.
No one.
Moretti reached into his pocket.
He held out the silver bracelet.
“You dropped this.”
Their fingers touched.
The moment lingered.
Then a bullet struck the metal railing beside them.
Moretti shoved Natalya down.
Another bullet.
Then another.
A sniper across the street.
S shouted through the earpiece.
“Roof shooter!”
Moretti pulled Natalya behind a vent.
“Stay down.”
But Natalya was looking at the shooter through the rain.
Something about the silhouette was familiar.
A posture.
The way the rifle was held.
Then the shooter turned.
Natalya saw a face through the scope reflection.
Her breath stopped.
May you like
She whispered one word.
“Elisa.”
Related Stories
