Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
“Your wife didn't die because of an accident, Alessandro. And your brother has been taking money from the man responsible for thirteen years.”
Teresa Romano's words struck her son harder than any bullet ever could.
Alessandro stood beside his mother's bed, holding the photograph of Vincent outside the private medical facility.
For a moment, he couldn't speak.
His wife, Elena, had died thirteen years earlier when her car went off a rain-soaked road outside Philadelphia.
The police had called it an accident.
The medical examiner had confirmed her death.
Alessandro had buried her beneath a white marble headstone and spent the next thirteen years trying to become a man who could live without her.
Now his seventy-nine-year-old mother was telling him that everything he believed about that night might be wrong.
“Mom,” he said carefully, “what are you talking about?”
Teresa looked toward the bedroom door.
“Close it.”
He obeyed.
Rachel Bennett remained beside the dresser, uncertain whether she should leave.
Teresa reached for her.
“Stay, sweetheart.”
Alessandro noticed how his mother relaxed when Rachel took her hand.
It was the same hand Camille had bruised downstairs.
“Who has been paying Vincent?” he asked.
Teresa swallowed.
“Arthur Bellamy.”
Alessandro stared at her.
Arthur Bellamy was a wealthy Philadelphia businessman who had served as the Romano family's legal and financial adviser for nearly three decades.
He had attended Elena's funeral.
He had stood beside Alessandro at the graveside.
He had even helped establish the scholarship foundation bearing Elena's name.
“Arthur?” Alessandro repeated.
Teresa nodded.
“And the woman in that photograph is Dr. Evelyn Shaw. She worked at the hospital where Elena was taken after the crash.”
Alessandro turned the photograph over.
The date was less than three weeks old.
“Why would Vincent be meeting her now?”
“Because Evelyn kept something she wasn't supposed to keep.”
“What?”
“A record of what happened before your wife died.”
Alessandro felt his stomach tighten.
“Then why didn't she come forward?”
“Arthur made sure nobody could.”
He stepped away from the bed.
For thirteen years, Alessandro had controlled shipping companies, construction contracts, hotels, and businesses that most men were too frightened to question.
Yet apparently, people within his own family had been controlling the truth about his wife's death.
“Tell me everything.”
Teresa began rubbing the small silver rosary wrapped around her wrist.
It had belonged to Elena.
Alessandro remembered his wife giving it to his mother on their first Christmas together.
“Twenty-six years ago,” Teresa began, “your father entered a financial agreement with Arthur Bellamy. I discovered what that agreement really involved after Elena died.”
Alessandro frowned.
“Dad died fifteen years ago.”
“I know.”
“Then how does something he signed twenty-six years ago connect to Elena?”
Teresa looked down.
“Because your father wasn't the man you believed he was.”
Before Alessandro could ask another question, Rachel noticed Teresa's breathing becoming shallow.
“Mr. Romano, she needs a moment.”
His mother's hands were shaking.
Alessandro immediately sat beside her.
“I'm sorry, Mom.”
Teresa touched his cheek.
“You always apologize when you're frightened.”
He looked away.
That was something Elena used to say.
Rachel poured Teresa a glass of water.
While the elderly woman drank, Alessandro examined the photograph again.
Dr. Evelyn Shaw stood beside Vincent outside a building marked Hawthorne Medical Center.
Her expression was tense.
Vincent appeared to be gripping a dark leather folder.
“Did Vincent threaten her?” Alessandro asked.
“I don't know. But she came to see me before she met him.”
That stopped him.
“When?”
“Last month. She told me she couldn't live with what she'd done.”
“What had she done?”
Teresa's eyes filled with tears.
“She signed a statement she knew wasn't completely true.”
Alessandro closed his eyes.
A terrible possibility began forming.
“About Elena's injuries?”
Teresa nodded.
Rachel watched his expression change.
She had worked in the Romano mansion for eleven months, long enough to know that Alessandro rarely raised his voice.
But she had never seen him look so devastated.
“Sir,” she said gently, “your mother shouldn't have to explain everything tonight.”
Alessandro glanced at her.
Rachel expected anger.
Instead, he nodded.
“You're right.”
He stood.
“Mom, I'm bringing in a doctor I trust. Someone outside the family's usual medical circle.”
Teresa caught his sleeve.
“Not Dr. Harrison.”
“Why?”
“He's the one Vincent wanted to prescribe me new medication.”
Alessandro went still.
He remembered the nurse's warning.
Someone had been trying to change Teresa's medication.
He turned toward Rachel.
“Did you notice anything unusual with Mom's prescriptions?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Three days ago, Camille brought a new bottle upstairs. She told the nurse it was for your mother's anxiety.”
“Did Mom take it?”
“No. Mrs. Romano said the pills looked different.”
“And?”
“Camille got angry. She said your mother was being difficult.”
Teresa squeezed Rachel's fingers.
“Rachel took the bottle away.”
Alessandro looked at the young woman.
“Where is it?”
“In the locked medicine cabinet. I asked the nurse to leave it untouched until she could verify the prescription.”
For the first time that evening, Alessandro understood just how much danger his mother might have been in.
And how much Rachel had done without expecting anything in return.
“Thank you,” he said.
Rachel lowered her eyes.
“I just wanted her safe.”
He turned back to his mother.
“Has Vincent visited you recently?”
“Twice. Both times he asked about a blue envelope.”
“What blue envelope?”
Teresa's expression changed.
She looked toward Rachel.
“Did you keep it?”
Rachel nodded slowly.
Alessandro stared between them.
“Keep what?”
Rachel reached into the pocket of her apron and removed a small brass key attached to a faded blue ribbon.
“Mrs. Romano gave me this last week. She said if anyone tried to move her out of the house, I should protect whatever it opened.”
Alessandro recognized the key immediately.
It belonged to Elena's old writing desk.
A desk that had remained locked since her death.
“Why would Mom give you that?”
Teresa answered.
“Because Vincent knows where I hide things. But nobody searches the maid.”
Rachel looked uncomfortable.
“Camille searched my room yesterday.”
Alessandro turned sharply.
“What?”
“She said an expensive bracelet was missing. She went through my dresser and handbag.”
“Did she find it?”
“There was no bracelet.”
Alessandro remembered something from the dinner.
Camille had been wearing her diamond bracelet all evening.
He looked at the key again.
“Where is the envelope?”
Rachel spoke softly.
“Inside the desk.”
Teresa shook her head.
“No, sweetheart. The key opens the desk. But the envelope is hidden somewhere else.”
“Where?” Alessandro demanded.
His mother looked directly at him.
“Ask Rachel what she found sewn into Elena's winter coat.”
Rachel's face went pale.
The coat.
She had found it in the laundry room two weeks earlier, scheduled for disposal during Camille's renovation of the upstairs bedrooms.
A beautiful cream-colored winter coat.
Rachel had noticed that one of the inner seams felt unusually stiff.
She had intended to ask Teresa about it.
Instead, Camille had ordered the coat burned.
Rachel had secretly saved it.
“It's in my closet,” she whispered.
Alessandro headed for the door.
But Teresa stopped him with one sentence.
“Alessandro, there's something else.”
He turned.
His mother was crying openly now.
“When Elena died, the police returned her wedding ring, her purse, and her watch.”
“I remember.”
“They never returned her necklace.”
Alessandro felt his chest tighten.
Elena had worn a small gold heart around her neck.
He had given it to her on their first anniversary.
“She wasn't wearing it when they found her,” he said.
“That was what Arthur told you.”
Teresa shook her head.
“Evelyn said Elena was still wearing it when she arrived at the hospital.”
Rachel looked at the photograph.
Then at Teresa.
“Mrs. Romano, did Dr. Shaw tell you where the necklace went?”
Teresa nodded.
“She said Arthur took it.”
“Why?” Alessandro asked.
“Because Elena had hidden something inside.”
Alessandro's phone was still in his hand.
Vincent's message glowed on the screen.
Stop questioning Mother. We need to talk about what she did twenty-six years ago.
Alessandro slowly looked up.
“What did you do twenty-six years ago, Mom?”
Teresa covered her face.
“I tried to protect my sons.”
“From whom?”
“Your father.”
Silence filled the bedroom.
Then Teresa whispered the words that changed everything.
“Twenty-six years ago, Alessandro, your father sold something that never belonged to him. And when Elena discovered the truth, Arthur Bellamy made certain she would never tell you.”
Rachel stared at the silver rosary.
One of its beads had come loose.
Beneath it was a tiny folded strip of paper.
Teresa noticed Rachel looking at it and suddenly became frightened.
“Don't open that here.”
But Alessandro had already seen the handwriting.
It belonged to Elena.
The message contained only seven words.
IF I DIE, ASK WHO OWNS RACHEL.
Alessandro looked at the twenty-six-year-old housekeeper.
“Rachel,” he asked slowly, “what was your mother's maiden name?”
May you like
Rachel blinked.
“Bellamy.”
