Chapter 7 - THE SECRET ISABELLA TOOK TO HER GRAVE
“Who?”
My voice barely worked.
Gabriel took the photograph from me.
“Because Gabriel would have killed her.”
His face was unreadable.
Matteo looked from the note to his brother.
“That doesn't mean you.”
“It says Gabriel.”
“It could mean—”
“My name is Gabriel.”
I grabbed the photograph.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You were just defending yourself five minutes ago.”
“I'm not defending myself.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Then stop.”
His voice cracked through the room.
I froze.
Gabriel looked away.
“Isabella was afraid of me.”
“You don't know that.”
“She wrote it.”
“She also married you.”
“That doesn't mean she wasn't afraid.”
I hated what guilt did to him.
It took every uncertainty and sharpened it into a weapon.
Matteo opened the folder again.
“There has to be context.”
We searched.
Bills.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
Reports.
Then I found a sealed envelope.
GABRIEL.
His name was written across it.
He stared at it.
“Open it,” I said.
He didn't move.
So I handed it to him.
He broke the seal.
Inside was a letter from Isabella.
Gabriel,
If Renato has this letter, then everything has gone wrong.
Elina is alive.
I've known since I was twelve.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
He continued reading.
Sofia made me promise never to approach her.
She said Renato had discovered Elina's identity and would kill her if he believed we had made contact.
I was a child, Gabriel. I believed the only way to keep my sister alive was to pretend she didn't exist.
Years later, I learned the truth.
Renato wasn't afraid of Elina.
He was afraid of you finding Elina.
Gabriel stopped.
“Why?”
Matteo took the next page.
His eyes widened.
“Because of the trust.”
“What?”
“The Bellandi trust doesn't transfer through marriage.”
I stared at him.
“So?”
Matteo looked at Gabriel.
“But if both sisters are alive, control requires their joint consent.”
Gabriel frowned.
“That still doesn't explain me.”
Matteo continued reading.
Then his face changed.
“What?”
He handed Gabriel the page.
Gabriel read silently.
His hand began shaking.
I took the letter.
Renato believed that if Gabriel learned Elina existed, he would protect her. And if Gabriel protected both sisters, Renato would lose every path to the Bellandi assets.
I exhaled.
“So Isabella wasn't afraid Gabriel would kill me.”
Matteo shook his head.
“She was afraid Renato would kill you because Gabriel would protect you.”
Gabriel sat down.
Relief crossed his face so quickly it almost hurt to watch.
I touched his shoulder.
He covered my hand with his.
Only for a second.
Then he released it.
The letter continued.
Isabella had learned Renato was laundering money through Bellandi companies.
She planned to expose him.
She had collected records.
Names.
Accounts.
Judges.
Police officers.
Politicians.
Enough to destroy him.
“Where are the records?” Gabriel asked.
The final page contained the answer.
With the one person Renato never notices.
I frowned.
“Who?”
Matteo smiled slowly.
“Someone invisible.”
My stomach dropped.
“Antonio.”
We found him downstairs with paramedics.
He was pale but conscious.
When I showed him the letter, he sighed.
“I wondered when she'd finally make you ask.”
“You have Isabella's evidence?”
“Not me.”
“Then who?”
Antonio looked toward the restaurant.
“My wife.”
“Your wife?”
“She died six years ago.”
I stared at him.
“That doesn't help.”
He almost smiled.
“She was buried with a safe-deposit key.”
Gabriel blinked.
“You buried evidence with your wife?”
“She would've appreciated it.”
By dawn, we were standing in a private mausoleum.
I decided my life had become too strange for surprise.
Antonio directed us toward a marble niche.
Behind a removable plaque was a key.
Not buried with her.
Technically.
Gabriel looked at Antonio.
“You could've said behind the memorial.”
“You people interrupt.”
For the first time, Gabriel laughed.
It transformed his face.
I understood why Isabella had loved him.
That thought should have frightened me.
Instead, it made something settle inside me.
We retrieved the safe-deposit box that morning.
Inside were financial records.
Hundreds of pages.
And a flash drive.
Matteo opened it on an isolated laptop.
Renato's empire appeared.
Payments to officials.
Shell corporations.
The payment for Gabriel's assassination.
The payment to the doctor who falsified Sofia's toxicology report.
And one more file.
LUCIA BELLANDI.
My biological mother.
I opened it.
There was no death certificate.
Instead, there were monthly payments.
For twenty-six years.
To a private psychiatric institution in Vermont.
I stared at the screen.
“No.”
Gabriel leaned closer.
“What?”
I pointed.
The latest payment had been made three weeks ago.
Lucia Bellandi wasn't dead.
My mother was alive.
I didn't know whether to cry or scream.
“She's alive.”
Gabriel immediately stood.
“We'll verify.”
We did.
The facility existed.
Private.
Expensive.
Extremely discreet.
The woman registered under the name Lucy Bennett had been there for twenty-five years.
No visitors.
Bills paid through a Moretti shell company controlled by Renato.
My knees weakened.
“Why keep her alive?”
Matteo answered quietly.
“Insurance.”
Against what, none of us knew.
Gabriel arranged a plane.
We flew to Vermont that afternoon.
I spent most of the flight staring through the window.
Leo slept in a bassinet nearby.
Gabriel sat across from me.
“You don't have to see her.”
“Yes, I do.”
“She may not be who you're hoping.”
“I don't even know what I'm hoping.”
He nodded.
After a moment, I asked, “Did Isabella ever talk about her mother?”
“She believed Lucia died when she was an infant.”
“So Carlo lied too.”
“Maybe.”
“That's generous.”
“Carlo lies differently than Renato.”
“That is the most mafia sentence I've ever heard.”
Gabriel smiled.
Again.
I liked it too much.
The facility sat among pine trees.
A doctor met us privately.
When Gabriel gave him Lucia's real name, the man's face changed.
“You shouldn't know that.”
“Yet we do.”
The doctor reluctantly opened her records.
Lucia had been admitted after a severe breakdown.
But something was wrong.
The original admission papers described her as coherent.
Afraid.
Insisting someone wanted her daughters dead.
Within months, doctors labeled those fears delusional.
Then the medication started.
Heavy sedation.
For decades.
My anger became physical.
“Can I see her?”
The doctor hesitated.
“Yes.”
Lucia sat beside a window.
White hair fell over her shoulders.
She looked fragile.
Older than sixty.
I entered alone.
For several seconds, she didn't notice me.
Then she turned.
Her eyes met mine.
The cup fell from her hand.
It shattered.
She stood.
“Elina?”
My entire body shook.
“You know me?”
She crossed the room.
Her hand touched my face.
Then she began crying.
“My baby.”
I broke.
Whatever questions I had disappeared.
She pulled me against her.
I held a mother I had never known.
After several minutes, she whispered:
“Isabella?”
I couldn't answer.
She understood anyway.
A sound left her that I will never forget.
Not crying.
Something deeper.
The sound of twenty-six stolen years collapsing at once.
Eventually, Gabriel entered carrying Leo.
Lucia saw him.
Then the baby.
Her hand covered her mouth.
“Her son?”
“Yes.”
She held Leo.
He stared at her.
Then smiled.
Lucia cried again.
For the first time since this began, the mystery felt almost gentle.
Until Lucia looked at Gabriel.
Her face changed.
“You.”
Gabriel stopped.
“You're Gabriel Moretti.”
“Yes.”
She handed Leo back to me.
“Get my daughter out of here.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
Lucia backed away from Gabriel.
“You can't trust him.”
Gabriel's expression hardened.
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“Because Renato didn't order Isabella's car bombing.”
Silence.
“He paid for it,” Gabriel said.
“No.”
Lucia shook her head.
“He paid to cover it up.”
My skin went cold.
“Then who ordered it?”
Lucia stared at Gabriel.
“Ask his father.”
Gabriel went completely still.
“My father has been dead for nineteen years.”
Lucia's eyes widened.
Then she whispered:
May you like
“No, Gabriel.”
“He isn't.”
