Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Knew His Brother's Last Words
Roman Castellano had faced armed enemies without blinking.
But when he looked at Natalie Cross, the woman he intended to marry, his hands were shaking.
“What did you do with my mother's death certificate?”
Natalie's lips parted.
“Roman, please. Whoever is out there is trying to manipulate you.”
“That's not what I asked.”
The woman behind the bedroom door spoke again.
“Look inside the wooden box, Mr. Castellano. Your fiancée knows what was in it.”
Roman turned toward the hallway.
“Aaron,” he called.
His security chief appeared within seconds.
“Check her. Carefully.”
Natalie grabbed Roman's arm.
“You cannot seriously be considering letting a stranger into our home.”
Roman looked down at her fingers.
“Take your hand off me.”
Something in his voice made her obey.
Aaron opened the door.
A woman in her late sixties stood in the hallway, wearing a worn navy coat and holding a leather handbag against her chest.
Her silver hair was neatly pinned.
She looked frightened, but she did not step backward.
“My name is Margaret Ellis,” she said. “I was a nurse at St. Agnes Hospital.”
Roman's eyes narrowed.
“That hospital closed twenty years ago.”
“I know. I worked there until the last day.”
Aaron checked her identification.
“She's clean, boss.”
Roman motioned for her to enter.
Margaret looked at Natalie.
“You've grown into your mother's face.”
Natalie's complexion changed.
“My mother died when I was twelve.”
“Yes,” Margaret replied quietly. “And she spent her final months trying to keep you from making the same mistakes she made.”
Natalie stared at her.
For the first time, Roman saw something beyond fear in his fiancée's expression.
Recognition.
“You know this woman,” he said.
“No.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Natalie, I delivered groceries to your house every Thursday while your mother was sick.”
Natalie looked away.
Roman felt the room growing smaller.
“Everyone sits down,” he ordered.
Margaret remained standing.
“I didn't come here to cause trouble. Daniel wanted me to give you something.”
She opened her handbag and removed a small brass key attached to a faded red ribbon.
Roman recognized the ribbon immediately.
His younger brother had tied identical ribbons around his belongings when they were children so Roman wouldn't accidentally take them.
“Where did you get that?”
“Daniel gave it to me four days before his boating accident.”
Roman stepped closer.
“My brother has been dead for six months.”
Margaret studied his face.
“Then perhaps you should ask why he was afraid someone would make sure he never reached his next birthday.”
Roman felt a cold pressure in his chest.
“Are you saying someone killed him?”
“I'm saying Daniel believed he was in danger.”
Natalie suddenly stood.
“This is ridiculous. Roman, you need to call the police.”
Roman turned.
“You've spent the last hour telling me not to believe anyone. Now you want the police involved?”
“Because this woman is dangerous.”
Margaret's eyes filled.
“No, sweetheart. I'm dangerous to the story you've been telling yourself.”
Before Natalie could respond, Aaron's phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
Then looked directly at Roman.
“The physician has finished examining Claire.”
Roman's attention shifted.
“How bad?”
“Severe swelling. Possible ligament damage. She's being taken for X-rays.”
Natalie folded her arms.
“She was careless.”
Roman's expression became dangerously still.
“Claire was injured under your supervision. And you forced her to keep working.”
“I didn't force—”
“I heard you threaten her.”
Silence followed.
Roman turned to Aaron.
“Claire keeps her salary, full medical coverage, and her position if she wants it. Nobody from this household contacts her father without her permission.”
Natalie looked humiliated.
“You're taking the maid's word over mine?”
Roman answered without hesitation.
“I'm taking the word of the person whose story hasn't changed.”
Margaret watched him with an expression he couldn't understand.
Almost approval.
Then she placed the brass key on the desk.
“Daniel told me you would be angry. He said you'd think everyone had betrayed you.”
“He was right.”
“He also said something else.”
Margaret swallowed.
“He said the truth wasn't hidden to protect your father.”
Roman looked toward the envelope Aaron had discovered.
“Then who?”
“To protect a child.”
Natalie suddenly moved toward the desk.
Roman caught her wrist before she could reach the envelope.
“What child?”
Margaret shook her head.
“I don't know everything.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
She lowered herself into a chair.
“Your father brought a woman and an infant to St. Agnes twenty-five years ago. He asked the hospital to register the child under a different surname.”
Roman calculated the dates.
He would have been nineteen.
Daniel had been thirteen.
“Was the woman Elena?”
Margaret shook her head.
“No. Elena had already been buried.”
Roman stared at her.
“Then why was she wearing my mother's face in that photograph?”
Margaret hesitated.
“Because the woman in the picture was your mother.”
Roman looked at the ceiling as if the world might somehow steady itself.
“You just told me Elena was dead.”
“Elena was dead,” Margaret replied. “But you were never told the truth about the woman who raised you.”
Roman remembered his childhood.
His mother's soft voice.
The smell of lavender on her clothes.
The way she used to sit beside his bed during thunderstorms.
Was any of it real?
“Who was she?”
Margaret reached into her handbag again.
This time, she removed a small silver bracelet.
It was a child's bracelet, scratched and worn, with three tiny stars engraved on its surface.
Roman stopped breathing.
He had seen that bracelet before.
His mother had given it to Daniel when he turned six.
Daniel had worn it until the day their father took it away.
“Where did you find that?”
“Daniel asked me to keep it.”
Roman took the bracelet.
Inside, almost invisible beneath the scratches, were three engraved letters.
E. M. C.
“Elena Marie Castellano,” Roman whispered.
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
She pointed to the middle letter.
“Eleanor.”
Roman looked up sharply.
“What?”
“Her name was Eleanor Marie Cross.”
Natalie made a small sound.
Roman turned toward her.
Cross.
His fiancée's surname.
Margaret's next words were barely above a whisper.
“Roman, the woman you called Mother was Natalie's aunt.”
Roman stared at Natalie.
And Natalie finally began to cry.
But it wasn't her tears that frightened him.
May you like
It was what she said next.
“If you tell Roman the rest, Margaret, my little sister is going to die.”
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