Chapter 2 - Maria Knew Something About My Past That No One Should Have Known“Daniel?”
Maria's voice was barely audible.
I sat up slowly.
Sofia immediately grabbed the blanket.
“Mommy, I didn't do anything.”
Maria rushed toward her.
“I know, sweetheart.”
Her eyes met mine.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I looked at Sofia.
“Go upstairs with Mrs. Collins.”
Maria stiffened.
Sofia looked at her mother.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
I softened my voice.
“You're not in trouble.”
She nodded and followed the older housekeeper.
Once she disappeared, I turned to Maria.
“Why did you call me Daniel?”
She swallowed.
“I heard the guards call you that.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“You've worked here three weeks. My guards call me Boss.”
Her face went pale.
“I…”
“Who told you?”
“No one.”
I stood.
Maria took a step backward.
“I didn't mean anything by it.”
“I know.”
I pointed at the table.
“The money is still there.”
Her eyes moved toward the envelope.
She hadn't touched it.
“My phone is still there.”
She hadn't touched that either.
“My wallet too.”
“I wasn't stealing.”
“I know.”
She looked confused.
“Then why did you do this?”
“Because I wanted to know if you were.”
She stared at me.
“You tested me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone eventually betrays me.”
Maria's expression changed.
Not anger.
Sadness.
“You really believe that?”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the staircase where Sofia had disappeared.
“Then you're very lonely, Daniel.”
I hated hearing my name from her.
Not because it offended me.
Because she said it like she knew the man underneath it.
“Who was Sofia's father?”
Maria froze.
“My husband.”
“Name?”
“Gabriel Torres.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“Torres?”
She nodded.
“Gabriel Torres?”
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
There were hundreds of Torres in New York.
But that name meant something to me.
A memory surfaced.
A man I had met once.
Years ago.
Gabriel had worked security for my father.
He had disappeared after my father's death.
I'd never known why.
“Where did he die?”
Maria's eyes filled with tears.
“Three years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
I didn't believe her.
She saw it in my face.
“You don't trust me.”
“No.”
“Then ask yourself why.”
She walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she stopped.
“Daniel…”
I looked at her.
“My husband died protecting your family.”
Then she left.
May you like
I stood alone.
For the first time in years, I wondered whether Vincent Russo's betrayal had been the beginning of a much larger lie.
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