Chapter 3 - The Name Isabella Left Behind
By breakfast, Dominic had convinced himself he was imagining connections.
Grief did that.
It turned coincidence into conspiracy.
Isabella had known hundreds of people. Dominic's companies employed thousands. The name Lucía was common.
But when Dominic entered the kitchen, Valentina was drawing.
Rosa had given her paper and pencils.
Dominic poured coffee.
"What are you making?"
Valentina slid the paper away.
"Nothing."
"That's usually what Matteo said when he was definitely making something."
She looked at him.
"Your son?"
Dominic nodded.
After a moment she returned the drawing.
It showed a woman with long black hair standing beside a car.
Above the car was a strange symbol.
Dominic leaned closer.
A small crown surrounded by an M.
The old Moretti Transport emblem.
His legitimate transportation company had stopped using it two years earlier.
"Where did you see this?"
Valentina shrugged.
"My mom had it on a card."
"What card?"
"One she kept hidden."
Dominic sat opposite her.
"Did your mother work for my company?"
"I don't know."
"Did she ever talk about me?"
"Sometimes."
"What did she say?"
Valentina frowned, searching childhood memories never intended to survive interrogation.
"She said you weren't the man people said you were."
Dominic almost laughed.
"That could mean several things."
"She said your wife was kind."
His expression changed.
"She knew Isabella?"
Valentina nodded.
"I think."
Before Dominic could ask more, Aleandro entered.
"Good morning."
Valentina immediately stopped talking.
Dominic noticed.
Aleandro poured coffee.
"Plans today?"
"I'm taking Valentina into town."
"For?"
"Clothes. A medical examination."
Aleandro turned.
"Medical?"
"She's been living outside."
"Of course."
Aleandro smiled at Valentina.
"Perhaps I can join you."
"No."
The answer came from Valentina.
Silence.
Aleandro laughed gently.
"I suppose I've been rejected."
Dominic watched him.
"She doesn't know you."
Aleandro's smile thinned.
"Yet."
An hour later Marco drove Dominic and Valentina toward the city.
At a children's clinic Valentina was examined by a pediatrician. She was underweight but otherwise stronger than expected. There were old bruises, healed cuts and evidence of prolonged nutritional neglect.
Dominic stood outside the room after the examination and stared through a window.
Marco joined him.
"You okay?"
"No."
"You look worse than yesterday."
"I am worse than yesterday."
Marco glanced at him.
"Want to tell me why?"
Dominic hesitated.
Then told him about the diagnosis.
Marco's expression went empty.
"No."
"That's not a medical argument."
"We'll find another doctor."
"Rico has been my doctor twenty years."
"Then we'll find twenty more."
Dominic almost smiled.
"There's a trial."
"Good."
"I haven't agreed."
Marco turned sharply.
"Why?"
Dominic looked through the glass at Valentina.
"Because I wasn't sure there was anything worth extending."
Marco followed his gaze.
"And now?"
Dominic didn't answer.
After the clinic they went shopping.
Valentina hated it.
Every time a salesperson showed her something expensive, she asked the price.
Eventually Dominic stopped allowing anyone to mention numbers.
She chose plain jeans, sneakers, a green sweater and a blue jacket.
When Dominic suggested another coat, she whispered, "I already have one."
"One isn't enough."
"It is if you don't lose it."
That sentence said more about her life than any nightmare.
Dominic bought three.
On their way home, they stopped at a bakery.
Valentina pressed her face to the display case.
"Choose."
She pointed to the smallest pastry.
Dominic ordered six.
"Why six?"
"Because I'm bad at moderation."
She giggled.
Dominic froze.
For half a second the sound became Matteo.
His vision blurred.
Valentina stopped laughing.
"Did I do something?"
"No."
Dominic crouched beside her.
"Never think that."
"You looked sad."
"I remembered someone."
She considered that.
"My mom said remembering hurts because love doesn't know where else to go."
Dominic stared at her.
"What did your mother do?"
"Lots of jobs."
"Did she ever work for Isabella?"
Valentina shrugged.
"She cleaned somewhere."
"Where?"
"Big rooms. Rich people."
Dominic's phone rang.
Marco.
But Marco was standing fifteen feet away.
Dominic glanced at him.
Marco discreetly nodded toward the street.
A man stood across the road pretending to check his phone.
Dominic recognized him.
Victor Sarto.
One of Aleandro's longtime associates.
When Victor realized Dominic had seen him, he walked away.
Dominic's instincts sharpened.
He told Valentina, "Stay with Marco."
Then crossed the street.
Victor disappeared into traffic.
That evening Dominic went to the basement archive.
Isabella's personal records had remained untouched since her death.
Boxes.
Notebooks.
Charity documents.
He searched until after midnight.
Then he found an employee list from a women's shelter Isabella had privately funded.
There it was.
Lucía Alvarez.
Temporary outreach coordinator.
Employment ended three days after Isabella died.
Dominic stared.
Inside the folder was a handwritten note from Isabella.
Only six words:
Lucía saw something. Keep her safe.
Dominic read it twice.
His hands began to shake.
Three years ago he'd been drowning in funerals and rage. Staff had handled Isabella's unfinished projects. Aleandro had taken responsibility for many of them.
Dominic searched the folder.
One page was missing.
Cleanly removed.
He heard movement behind him.
Dominic turned.
Aleandro stood at the basement door.
"What are you looking for, brother?"
Dominic closed the folder slowly.
"Memories."
Aleandro smiled.
"Those can be dangerous."
Dominic looked at him.
"For whom?"
For the first time, Aleandro's smile did not reach his eyes.
And Dominic realized the question had stopped being whether Valentina's appearance was coincidence.
May you like
The question was how much his brother already knew.
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