Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much
Leo dismissed Isabella before she could say another word.
He did it quietly, without raising his voice, but the look in his eyes made even Declan step aside.
“Not here,” he told her.
Isabella's smile faded.
“You can't keep this buried forever.”
“Watch me.”
She walked away, her heels clicking across the hospital floor.
Mia stood frozen beside the elevator.
“What did she mean?”
Leo turned toward her.
“Isabella Bellini is my cousin. Her father was my mother's older brother.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“No,” he admitted. “It doesn't.”
Mia folded her arms across her chest.
“You keep telling me I don't owe you anything, but every time I ask a question, you decide what I'm allowed to know.”
His face tightened.
“I am trying to protect you.”
“From what? The truth?”
He looked away.
It was the first time Mia had seen him do that.
“Years ago,” Leo said finally, “my mother became involved with a man my grandfather considered an enemy. When she became pregnant with me, the family turned against her. My grandfather wanted her to marry someone else and pretend the affair had never happened.”
“Did she?”
“No. She chose my father.”
His voice grew quieter.
“They were both killed when I was fourteen.”
Mia's anger softened, but she did not let it disappear.
“I'm sorry.”
“Isabella believes my mother destroyed the family. She has spent years trying to prove that anyone connected to my father is dangerous.”
“And now she's talking about me.”
“Because you're close to me.”
“I'm not close to you, Leo. Not yet.”
He absorbed the correction without protest.
“Then I hope you'll give me the chance to earn it.”
The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache.
She wanted to believe him. But she had spent too much of her life mistaking promises for protection.
When Leo's driver brought her home, Mia discovered a grocery delivery waiting outside her apartment. Fresh fruit, soup, bread, bottled water, and prenatal vitamins filled two large bags.
She called Leo immediately.
“I told you I don't need charity.”
“It's food.”
“I have money for food.”
“Then eat what you bought and donate mine.”
She paused.
“You're impossible.”
“I've heard that.”
Despite herself, Mia laughed.
It was a small sound, rusty from disuse, and Leo went silent on the other end.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“You're doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“Acting like I just performed a miracle because I laughed.”
His answer came after a pause.
“Maybe I haven't heard something that honest in a long time.”
Mia hung up before he could hear how much the words affected her.
For the next two days, she rested. A human resources representative from Barton’s called to apologize for Greg's behavior and informed her that her employment status would be reviewed independently of Leo's acquisition. She was offered paid leave while the investigation proceeded.
Mia was relieved, but she insisted on receiving everything in writing.
On Sunday morning, she visited her mother's grave at a small cemetery near the edge of the city.
She had not been there in three weeks. Between work, doctor's appointments, and bills, grief had become another thing she postponed.
She knelt beside the headstone and brushed fallen leaves away from the engraved name.
Evelyn Sullivan.
“I wish you were here,” she whispered.
A voice behind her answered.
“Your mother would have been proud of you.”
Mia turned.
An older man in a dark overcoat stood several feet away. His face was lined, his hair almost entirely silver. She recognized him from a photograph her mother had kept in a locked box.
Arthur Bellini.
Isabella's father.
Mia rose slowly.
“How do you know my mother?”
Arthur looked toward the grave.
“Because Evelyn Sullivan was not your biological mother.”
The world seemed to stop.
Mia stared at him.
“What did you just say?”
Arthur reached into his coat and removed a small, yellowed envelope.
“Your mother raised you because she loved you. But she wasn't the woman who gave birth to you.”
Mia shook her head.
“No. You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
He held out the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a young woman with dark eyes, a silver scar near her left eyebrow, and a newborn baby in her arms.
On the back, in faded handwriting, were four words.
For my daughter, Mia.
May you like
The woman in the photograph was unmistakably Leo's mother.
And beneath the photograph lay a birth certificate with Mia's name.
