Chapter 3 - What Her Mother Knew
I stared at Sofia, waiting for her to take back the sentence.
She didn’t.
“My mother died in a car accident.”
“That is what you were told,” Sofia said.
“I was eight.”
“I know.”
Marco stood behind his mother, his expression unreadable.
I looked at him.
“You knew?”
“Not all of it.”
“How much?”
“Enough to know your mother had some connection to my family.”
I pulled my hands away from Sofia.
“And nobody thought I deserved to know?”
Sofia’s face crumpled.
“It was supposed to keep you safe.”
I laughed bitterly.
Safe.
People always used that word when explaining why they had lied.
Sofia sat on the edge of the bed.
“Your mother’s name was Katherine Carter.”
“I know my mother’s name.”
“She worked for my husband.”
My attention sharpened.
“For Vittorio?”
“Yes.”
“In what capacity?”
Sofia hesitated.
Marco answered.
“Financial investigations.”
I stared at him.
“My mother was an accountant.”
“She was much more than that.”
According to Sofia, Katherine had been hired in the late nineties to clean up the financial side of several Ricci businesses.
Vittorio had inherited companies plagued by corrupt partners.
Katherine discovered that one partner had been stealing millions.
But money was only part of it.
The man had also been using legitimate Ricci businesses to hide criminal transactions.
Vittorio wanted him removed.
Katherine helped gather the evidence.
“Who was the partner?” I asked.
Sofia looked at Marco.
He answered reluctantly.
“Anthony Bellini.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“He disappeared from the businesses twenty-six years ago,” Marco continued. “No charges. No trial. He left the country.”
“And my mother?”
“She became a target,” Sofia said.
I sat slowly.
“How did she die?”
“There was a crash.”
“So that part was true.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“The crash wasn’t an accident.”
Silence.
The ocean continued beyond the windows.
Waves.
Wind.
Everything ordinary while the foundation of my childhood collapsed.
“My father?”
Sofia looked down.
“He knew some of it.”
“My father died five years after her.”
“I’m sorry.”
I turned toward Marco.
“Is this why you hired me?”
His reaction told me the answer before he spoke.
“Initially.”
My chest hurt.
“Initially?”
“When your résumé reached my office, your name caught my attention.”
“So you investigated me.”
“Yes.”
“And then hired me.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“Everything was a lie.”
“No.”
“You hired me because of my mother.”
“At first.”
“You kept a file on me.”
“To protect you.”
“There’s that word again.”
Marco stepped closer.
“You think I wanted you pulled into this?”
“I think you decided what I should know without asking me.”
“You were safer not knowing.”
“I’m twenty-seven, Marco. I can decide what I want to know.”
His voice softened.
“And if knowing gets you hurt?”
Something in his expression stopped me.
Fear.
Not fear for himself.
For me.
It was there only for a second.
But unmistakable.
Sofia stood.
“You two need to talk.”
She left quietly.
Marco and I remained facing each other.
“Tell me everything,” I said.
“I don’t know everything.”
“Tell me what you know.”
So he did.
Two years ago, shortly before he hired me, someone had begun requesting old records related to Katherine Carter.
Marco discovered the inquiries.
He traced several to shell companies but never identified whoever was behind them.
After I became his assistant, the inquiries stopped.
“So you kept me close.”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“Because I was a liability.”
“No.”
“Because you felt guilty.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Marco came closer.
“You really want the answer?”
“Yes.”
“Because after three weeks, keeping you close had nothing to do with your mother.”
My heart stumbled.
He looked toward my bracelet.
“I bought that emerald bracelet after you stayed with my mother in the hospital.”
I remembered.
Sofia had undergone a minor procedure.
Marco had been trapped overseas during a business crisis.
I had spent an entire day sitting beside her.
“She was alone.”
“You didn’t have to stay.”
“She was scared.”
Marco’s voice grew quieter.
“You sang to her.”
My face warmed.
“She couldn’t sleep.”
“You thought nobody knew.”
“I definitely hoped nobody knew.”
“She told me.”
He almost smiled.
“That was when?”
“That was when I bought the bracelet.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
Marco opened his mouth.
A knock interrupted us.
Again.
He swore softly.
His cousin Matteo stood outside.
“Sorry, but you need to come downstairs.”
“Why?”
“There’s someone at the gate.”
Marco’s expression immediately hardened.
“Who?”
Matteo looked at me.
“He says he knew Katherine Carter.”
Ten minutes later, we entered the library.
An older man stood near the fireplace.
Silver hair.
Thin frame.
Dark coat.
Marco’s security remained close.
The stranger stared at me.
“You look like her.”
My skin prickled.
“Who are you?”
“Daniel Ross.”
I had never heard the name.
“I worked with your mother.”
Marco crossed his arms.
“How did you know she was here?”
Ross ignored him.
He addressed me.
“Your mother left something for you.”
“What?”
“A letter.”
My throat tightened.
“Where?”
“I don’t have it.”
Marco’s patience vanished.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because someone else does.”
Ross turned toward Marco.
“The people who broke into your office weren’t looking for Emily’s file.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed.
“They took it.”
“They wanted you to think they were looking for Emily.”
“What were they looking for?”
Ross swallowed.
“A ledger.”
Sofia entered the room.
When she saw Ross, she nearly stumbled.
“You.”
Ross lowered his head.
“Sofia.”
Marco noticed.
“You know him?”
Sofia’s expression became guarded.
“He worked for my husband.”
Ross laughed softly.
“That’s one way of saying it.”
Marco moved between them.
“Explain.”
Ross’s eyes shifted toward me.
“Katherine discovered more than stolen money.”
“What?”
“She found evidence connecting Anthony Bellini to powerful people all over New York.”
“That was decades ago,” Marco said.
“Some of those people are still powerful.”
“And the ledger?”
“She hid it.”
“Where?”
Ross looked directly at me.
“Katherine told me the ledger would stay hidden until Emily was old enough.”
A terrible thought occurred.
“Why would she involve me?”
“She didn’t want to.”
“Then why?”
“Because the key to finding it was something nobody would recognize except you.”
I stared at him.
“What key?”
Ross reached into his coat.
Marco’s security moved immediately.
“Slowly.”
Ross removed a small photograph.
He handed it to me.
It showed my mother holding me as a baby.
I had seen copies of that photograph before.
But this one had writing on the back.
A nursery rhyme.
My mother used to sing it to me.
I read the final line.
Where the sea meets the roses, the truth waits beneath the summer queen.
My heart stopped.
The sea.
Roses.
Summer queen.
I looked through the library windows toward the Ricci estate garden.
Sofia went pale.
Marco noticed.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“Mom.”
Sofia sat down.
“There used to be a marble statue in the rose garden.”
“What statue?”
“A woman.”
Ross answered.
“The Summer Queen.”
Everyone went silent.
Marco looked toward Matteo.
“Get lights. We’re going outside.”
Ten minutes later, we crossed the dark lawn.
The old rose garden lay behind a stone wall near the eastern edge of the property.
Sofia led us to an empty pedestal.
“The statue was removed fifteen years ago.”
“Where is it?” Marco asked.
“In storage beneath the old carriage house.”
We went there immediately.
Dust covered everything.
Furniture.
Paintings.
Crates.
At the back stood the marble statue.
A woman wearing a crown of flowers.
Marco examined the base.
“There.”
A small seam.
Security brought tools.
The bottom opened.
Inside was a metal box.
My hands shook.
Marco looked at me.
“Do you want me to open it?”
I nodded.
Inside were documents.
A cassette tape.
A ledger.
And one envelope.
My name was written across it.
Emily.
I recognized the handwriting.
My mother.
I could barely hold the envelope.
Marco stayed beside me.
I opened it.
The letter began:
My darling Emily, if you are reading this, then the past has found you despite everything I did to keep it away. Before you believe anything the Ricci family tells you, there is one truth you must know. Vittorio Ricci was not the man who betrayed me.
I read faster.
Then stopped.
Marco watched me.
“What?”
My eyes moved to Sofia.
Her face changed before I spoke.
Because she knew what came next.
The letter continued:
The person who betrayed me was someone I trusted more than anyone. Someone still inside the Ricci family.
I looked around the dark carriage house.
Marco.
Sofia.
Matteo.
Security.
Family.
And suddenly every face looked different.
Then I reached the final line of the page.
My mother had written one name.
And when I read it, Marco’s blood seemed to turn to ice.
Because the name was:
Matteo Ricci.
May you like
And Matteo was standing directly behind us.
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