Chapter 8 - The Truth Her Father Died to Protect
The next morning, the threat came in an envelope.
No stamp.
No address.
Just my name.
Inside was a photograph.
My father.
Alive.
Taken two days before his supposed death.
Behind him stood a woman.
My mother.
I couldn't breathe.
Damian found me sitting on the kitchen floor.
"Amelia."
I handed him the photograph.
His expression changed.
"Where did you get this?"
"It was delivered."
He sat beside me.
"Your mother."
"She was alive."
"Apparently."
"Then why did my father tell me she was dead?"
"To protect you."
I looked at him.
"That's what everyone says."
"Sometimes it's true."
I didn't answer.
We found the photographer.
An old man in Joliet.
He remembered Robert.
He remembered my mother.
And he remembered one other person.
Matteo.
But the photograph had been taken before my father's death.
My mother hadn't left.
She had been hiding.
For years.
The clue led us to a small town outside Chicago.
An old farmhouse.
Empty.
Except for a locked room.
Inside were letters.
Hundreds.
Letters my mother had written to me but never sent.
I read them one after another.
She had been afraid.
She had learned about Matteo.
She had learned what my father had done.
She had disappeared because she believed staying close to me would kill me.
The final letter was dated five years ago.
I almost dropped it.
I had thought she was dead.
She had been alive.
Then one final page.
If you found this, Matteo failed.
I looked at Damian.
"There's more."
The letter explained everything.
My father had not been the accountant.
He had been an undercover witness for federal investigators.
He had joined the Costa organization to build a case.
Then he fell in love with my mother.
When they tried to leave, Matteo threatened me.
So my father made a deal.
He would disappear.
He would erase the evidence.
And in exchange, Matteo would let me live.
The debt was a cover.
The gambling story was a cover.
His death was staged.
But something went wrong.
My father really had a heart attack.
Matteo used his death to erase the remaining evidence.
My father had anticipated it.
He left everything with Damian.
Including me.
I looked at Damian.
"You knew."
"I knew part of it."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because your father made me promise."
I closed my eyes.
"I hate secrets."
"I know."
"Then no more."
He nodded.
"No more."
We returned to Chicago.
The federal case reopened.
The ledger was finally enough.
Gabriel confessed.
Bell confessed.
Isabella confessed.
But Matteo remained silent.
Until one person came forward.
My mother.
She walked into the courthouse wearing a simple coat and gray hair.
I saw her.
Everything inside me stopped.
She looked at me.
"Amelia."
I ran.
We held each other.
I cried like a child.
She cried like a woman who had spent decades believing she would never see her daughter again.
Damian stood far away.
My mother eventually looked at him.
"You kept your promise."
He nodded.
"Your father asked me to."
She smiled.
"Robert chose well."
Then she whispered something.
"What?"
"Your father told me you would hate Damian at first."
I laughed through tears.
"He was right."
My mother smiled.
"Then he told me you'd love him eventually."
I glanced toward Damian.
"He was right about that too."
That night, Damian took me to the lake.
Chicago glittered behind us.
He pulled a small box from his coat.
I stared.
"No."
He smiled.
"You haven't heard the question."
"I know the question."
"You don't."
He opened the box.
Inside was my father's cracked wristwatch.
Repaired.
The glass had been replaced.
The mechanism worked.
He held it out.
"I thought you deserved something from your father that wasn't broken."
My eyes filled with tears.
"Damian."
Then he knelt.
The man who had terrified Chicago.
The man who had killed for his family.
The man who had spent sixteen years chasing revenge.
He knelt in front of me.
"I don't have a clean past."
"I don't have an easy life."
"I can't promise there won't ever be danger."
"But I can promise you this."
He took my hand.
"I will never lie to you again."
"Will you marry me?"
I laughed and cried at the same time.
"You're supposed to wait until I answer."
"I know."
"Then yes."
He stood.
I kissed him.
But across the street, a black car watched.
Inside sat a man we thought was dead.
Matteo's younger brother.
Enzo.
He smiled.
And made one phone call.
"The Costa girl has chosen the nurse."
May you like
A voice answered.
"Then begin the next phase."
