Chapter 4 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Margaret had been taken from a secured apartment.
The guards hadn't seen anyone.
There were no broken locks.
No cameras disabled.
Nothing.
Only one object had been left behind.
A white rose.
Luca picked it up.
He stared at it.
“Vanessa.”
I shook my head.
“Or someone who wants us to think it was her.”
He looked at me.
“You're getting good at this.”
“I'd rather not.”
We found Margaret twelve hours later.
She had been moved to a private clinic.
She was unconscious but alive.
A doctor told us she had been sedated.
Luca stood at the doorway.
“When she wakes up, no one talks to her alone.”
Daniel nodded.
I stayed beside the hospital bed.
Hours later, Margaret opened her eyes.
“Natalie.”
I stepped closer.
“I'm here.”
She looked around.
“Where's Luca?”
“Outside.”
“Good.”
She reached for my hand.
“Do you know who Julian is?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what Vanessa did?”
I swallowed.
“No.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Julian discovered the Bellini family wasn't as clean as it looked.”
“What did he find?”
“Money.”
I already knew.
“But there was more.”
She stared at me.
“Children.”
My skin prickled.
“What?”
“People were being moved through businesses controlled by wealthy families.”
“For what?”
“Labor.”
“Trafficking?”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“Julian found records.”
“And Vanessa?”
“She knew.”
“Was she involved?”
Margaret cried.
“She was trapped.”
“How?”
“My son told me Vanessa wanted out.”
“Then why marry him?”
“To escape her father.”
I looked at Luca as he entered.
“What?”
Margaret turned toward him.
“Your family wasn't running the operation.”
Luca stopped.
“Then who was?”
“Anthony.”
His uncle.
Luca's face became cold.
“Anthony Moretti.”
“Yes.”
“He died six years ago.”
“No.”
Margaret shook her head.
“He arranged the fire.”
“Why?”
“To make Julian disappear.”
“Why not kill him?”
“He needed Julian to sign over something.”
“What?”
“The Northstar company.”
Luca's eyes narrowed.
“Northstar.”
Margaret nodded.
“It was the real source of the money.”
I looked at Luca.
“What was in Northstar?”
“Everything,” he said quietly.
Accounts.
Properties.
Shell companies.
Names.
The hidden empire inside the legal one.
Margaret continued.
“Julian took the records.”
“And ran.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You must.”
She hesitated.
“He contacted one person.”
“Who?”
“A woman.”
“Name?”
“Evelyn Brooks.”
My heart stopped.
My surname.
I looked at her.
“Who is Evelyn Brooks?”
Margaret stared.
“Your mother.”
I couldn't breathe.
“My mother?”
Margaret nodded.
“Julian trusted her.”
“No.”
Luca looked at me.
“Do you know?”
I shook my head.
“My mother died when I was eighteen.”
“What did she do?”
“She was a nurse.”
Margaret whispered:
“She treated Julian after the fire.”
Everything blurred.
“My mother?”
“She helped him escape.”
I sat down.
My mother had never told me.
Not once.
Luca lowered himself beside me.
“Natalie.”
I couldn't answer.
Margaret continued.
“Your mother changed his name.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how did Vanessa know?”
“She found your mother.”
“But my mother is dead.”
Margaret looked at me.
“Maybe.”
My heart stopped again.
“She died in a car accident.”
“That was what the papers said.”
Luca stared at Margaret.
“Are you saying Natalie’s mother survived?”
“No.”
Margaret's voice broke.
“I'm saying the woman I met was alive after the accident.”
I shook my head.
“That isn't possible.”
Luca held my hand.
“We'll find out.”
We returned to the mansion.
For the first time, I was too afraid to be alone.
Luca noticed.
“You're staying in the guest wing.”
I didn't argue.
That night, he sat outside my door.
“I don't need a guard.”
“You aren't getting one.”
“Then why are you here?”
He looked at me.
“Because I don't trust anyone else.”
The words settled somewhere deep.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I will.”
He didn't move.
“Luca.”
“Yes?”
“Did you know my mother?”
“No.”
“Does my family have anything to do with yours?”
“I don't know.”
He was quiet.
“That's the first time I haven't been sure of something.”
I smiled faintly.
“Welcome to my world.”
He laughed.
Then a car stopped outside.
Daniel called.
They had found a warehouse connected to Northstar.
We went.
Inside were thousands of files.
One was marked:
BROOKS.
My hands shook.
I opened it.
Photographs of my mother.
Photographs of me as a child.
A photograph of Luca as a teenager.
And a letter.
To whoever finds this:
The girls were never the target.
The parents were.
My mother had written it.
I recognized her handwriting.
The final line was:
“Protect Natalie from Anthony Moretti.”
I looked at Luca.
He stared at the page.
“I swear to you,” he said, “I never knew.”
I believed him.
Then another file fell open.
Inside was a recent photograph.
Anthony Moretti.
Alive.
Standing outside a hotel in Chicago.
Taken two months earlier.
The man Luca believed was dead had been living in the same city all along.
May you like
And when I turned the photograph over, there was another line.
“Anthony has already chosen the next person he will sacrifice.”
