Chapter 5 - The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Bella stared at the photograph until the image blurred.
“That’s impossible.”
No one answered.
“My mother died when I was seven.”
Blake took the phone from Bryce.
The photograph showed the woman entering a private hotel in Chicago three weeks earlier.
Same eyes.
Same cheekbones.
Older, yes.
But unmistakable.
Bella’s mother.
Elena Morgan.
Or the woman Bella had spent nineteen years believing was buried beneath a gravestone in Queens.
“She’s alive,” Bella whispered.
Blake looked toward Bryce.
“Verify everything.”
“Already doing it.”
Bella pressed both hands against her temples.
“My father told me she died.”
“Maybe he believed it,” Blake said.
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“I remember the funeral.”
“Did you see her body?”
Bella froze.
She had been seven.
There had been flowers.
Adults whispering.
Her father holding her hand.
A closed casket.
“No.”
The answer barely escaped.
Blake sat beside her.
“Bella.”
She looked at him.
“Everyone lies to me.”
He absorbed that without defending himself.
“My father lied. My mother apparently lied. You lied.”
“I withheld information.”
“That is rich.”
“I know.”
“And now somebody wants this ledger.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it contains enough evidence to change the balance of power in this city.”
Bella looked at the flash drive.
“Then we give it to the authorities.”
Bryce and Blake exchanged another look.
Bella groaned.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“That silent mafia telepathy.”
Bryce coughed to hide a laugh.
Blake glared.
Bella continued.
“What’s wrong with the authorities?”
Blake opened one of the files.
Several names appeared.
Judges.
Detectives.
Government officials.
“Some of them are in the ledger.”
Bella understood.
“So we don’t know who to trust.”
“Correct.”
Her phone rang.
This time Blake didn’t ask for it.
Bella looked at the number.
Blocked.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a woman spoke.
“Isabella.”
Bella’s entire body froze.
Nobody called her Isabella except her father.
“Who is this?”
“You know.”
Bella’s eyes filled with tears.
“No.”
“My sweet girl.”
Bella stood abruptly.
“Don’t call me that.”
Blake moved closer but did not touch her.
“Where have you been?”
The woman breathed softly.
“Surviving.”
“For nineteen years?”
“I couldn’t come back.”
“You could have called!”
“If I had, your father would have died sooner.”
Bella stopped.
“What?”
“Elena,” Blake said.
The voice went silent.
Then:
“Blake Caruso.”
“You know me,” Blake said.
“I know exactly what you are.”
Bella looked between the phone and Blake.
Her mother continued.
“And I know what you want.”
“The same thing you apparently want,” Blake replied. “Bella alive.”
A pause.
“Bring her to Chicago.”
“No.”
Bella looked at him.
Her mother’s voice hardened.
“You don’t make that decision.”
“You disappeared for nineteen years. You don’t either.”
Bella grabbed the phone.
“I make it.”
Both sides went silent.
Bella took a breath.
“If you want to see me, tell me why.”
Her mother hesitated.
“Because the ledger is incomplete.”
Bella looked toward the laptop.
“What does that mean?”
“Your father divided the evidence.”
“Where’s the rest?”
“With me.”
Blake’s expression changed.
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
“Against Romano?” Bella asked.
“Against everyone.”
Including Blake.
The implication hung between them.
“Come to Chicago,” Elena said. “Alone.”
Blake shook his head.
Bella ignored him.
“Why alone?”
“Because Blake Caruso is not protecting you for the reason you think.”
Bella looked at him.
“What reason?”
Her mother whispered:
“Ask him who ordered your father’s car followed the night he died.”
The call ended.
Bella lowered the phone.
Blake said nothing.
Her heart sank.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Bella—”
“Who?”
His eyes held hers.
“I did.”
Silence.
Bryce looked away.
Bella felt as if the floor disappeared.
“You followed my father?”
“Yes.”
“The night he died?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He called me. Said someone had discovered what he’d done. I sent men to protect him.”
“And they failed.”
Blake flinched.
Barely.
But she saw it.
“They lost him at an intersection.”
“And twenty minutes later he was dead.”
“Yes.”
Bella’s tears finally fell.
“You’ve known all this time.”
Blake stepped forward.
She backed away.
“Don’t.”
He stopped immediately.
That hurt even more.
Bella wiped her face.
“I’m going to Chicago.”
“No.”
She laughed through her tears.
“You don’t own me.”
“I know.”
“Then stop saying no.”
“It’s a trap.”
“Probably.”
“And you’re still going?”
“She’s my mother.”
Blake’s voice softened.
“And she may be the reason your father died.”
Bella froze.
“What?”
“Think about it. Your father hid half the evidence. Elena kept the other half. Someone discovered him. She disappeared.”
Bella shook her head.
“You don’t know that.”
“No. Neither do you.”
She looked at Bryce.
“What do you think?”
Bryce hesitated.
“I think nobody goes alone.”
Bella nodded.
“Fine.”
Blake frowned.
“Fine?”
“You’re coming.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You just spent ten minutes blaming me for everything.”
“I’m still blaming you.”
“And you want me beside you?”
“I know exactly what you are, Blake.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
“And?”
Bella stepped closer.
“You’re the most paranoid man I’ve ever met.”
Bryce laughed.
This time openly.
Bella continued.
“If I’m walking into a trap, I want the paranoid mafia boss with me.”
Blake stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
A real smile.
Bella’s heart stumbled.
“Chicago,” he said.
They left that evening.
Blake’s private jet was quiet.
Bella sat near the window while Blake worked across from her.
After an hour, she finally spoke.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about my father?”
Blake closed his laptop.
“Because every time I tried, I remembered his last words.”
“What were they?”
Blake hesitated.
“Keep my daughter innocent.”
Bella laughed sadly.
“That worked out well.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“It didn’t.”
She stared at him.
“What else did he say?”
Blake’s expression softened.
“He told me you were stubborn.”
Bella smiled faintly.
“He knew me.”
“He said you’d argue with a hurricane if you thought the wind was being unreasonable.”
A laugh escaped her.
Blake watched her.
For a few seconds, everything else disappeared.
Bella looked down.
“Did he talk about me often?”
“Every time I saw him.”
Her eyes filled again.
Blake reached across the table.
He stopped before touching her.
Bella noticed.
He was waiting.
For permission.
She placed her hand in his.
His fingers closed gently around hers.
No possession.
No command.
Just warmth.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For telling me something good.”
Blake’s thumb moved once across her knuckles.
The plane landed after midnight.
They entered a secure hotel through a private garage.
Bella expected Elena’s meeting the following morning.
Instead, when the elevator opened onto their floor, a woman was already standing at the end of the hallway.
Silver hair.
Tears in her eyes.
Bella stopped.
The woman whispered:
“Isabella.”
Bella could not move.
Her mother took one step forward.
Then another.
Blake’s security team reacted.
“Stop.”
Elena obeyed.
Bella stared at the woman she had mourned for nineteen years.
“Why?”
Elena’s face crumpled.
“I thought disappearing would keep you alive.”
Bella’s voice shook.
“Did you kill Dad?”
Elena went pale.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Elena looked past Bella.
Directly at Blake.
And said the one sentence none of them expected.
May you like
“Ask Bryce.”
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