Chapter 9 - The Woman in the Video
They watched the video in the Obsidian's underground security room.
No one spoke as the footage continued.
Rebecca was holding the newborn. Giovanni stood beside her, speaking to a doctor whose face was obscured by the camera angle.
Then another man entered the room.
Anthony.
He handed Giovanni a document.
Giovanni signed it.
Rebecca began crying.
The recording ended.
Sarah stared at the blank screen.
“That baby was me.”
Lorenzo nodded slowly.
“The date matches your birth.”
“But my mother was supposed to have died years before.”
“Someone falsified the records.”
Sarah turned to Eleanor.
Her grandmother had been silent throughout the recording.
“Grandma?”
Eleanor pressed her hands together.
“There was a fire,” she whispered. “But it wasn't the fire you remember.”
Sarah felt sick.
“What do you mean?”
“Rebecca came to me when you were a baby. She was frightened. Anthony wanted custody of you because he believed you could be used to control Lorenzo's mother.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother had evidence that Anthony was selling information to the police and to rival families. She knew he would do anything to keep it hidden.”
Eleanor wiped her eyes.
“Your mother disappeared for years. She returned when you were nine, hoping to take you away. The night she came back, someone set fire to the house.”
Sarah remembered smoke.
A window breaking.
Her grandmother carrying her through the darkness.
But she remembered no funeral.
No coffin.
No final goodbye.
“Did she survive?”
Eleanor nodded.
“She escaped. I never saw her again.”
Sarah gripped the table.
“You let me believe she was dead.”
“I thought the truth would get you killed.”
Lorenzo walked to the window.
“My mother died the same night.”
Everyone turned toward him.
He had never spoken about the circumstances of her death. Officially, she had died in a car accident.
“She wasn't in the car,” he said. “I was twelve. I remember waking up in the hospital and being told she'd been killed on the way to see a relative.”
He looked at Giovanni's frozen image.
“If she was in that hospital, someone lied about everything.”
Marco entered carrying a sealed envelope.
“We recovered this from the chapel's maintenance records. It was addressed to Lorenzo's mother.”
Lorenzo opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
My dearest Isabella,
If anything happens to me, protect the children. Anthony believes blood gives him ownership over everyone he touches. It doesn't. Keep Sarah away from him, and teach Lorenzo that being feared is not the same as being strong.
The evidence is hidden beneath the altar.
Forgive me for not being brave enough to do this sooner.
The letter was signed Rebecca.
Sarah read it twice.
“Children,” she whispered. “She meant Lorenzo and me.”
Lorenzo folded the letter carefully.
For the first time, the possibility of having a sister seemed to frighten him more than the possibility of losing his empire.
Then Marco's phone rang.
He answered, listened, and turned pale.
“Boss, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“Giovanni has taken control of the North Side crew. He's telling everyone you killed Anthony and that Sarah is responsible for the family's collapse.”
Lorenzo's face hardened.
“Where is he?”
“Unknown. But he sent a message.”
Marco handed over the phone.
The message contained a photograph of the Valenti family chapel.
Beneath it were six words.
MIDNIGHT. COME ALONE. BRING YOUR SISTER.
Another message arrived seconds later.
OR THE WOMAN IN THE VIDEO DIES.
Sarah stared at the image of her mother.
Lorenzo reached for his coat.
She caught his wrist.
“You're not going alone.”
“This isn't your fight.”
“It became my fight before I knew your name.”
“Sarah—”
“If she's alive, I'm going.”
Lorenzo searched her face.
Then he nodded.
“Stay behind me.”
Sarah shook her head.
“No promises.”
For the first time that night, he smiled.
It was brief, tired, and real.
Then the chapel's security camera feed appeared on the screen.
A woman stepped out from behind the altar.
She looked directly into the camera.
And whispered a name.
May you like
“Lorenzo.”
It was his mother's voice.
