Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO NEVER LEFT
Meline did not sleep that night.
She lay beneath a thin blanket in the room above the garage, staring at the ceiling while Giovanni's words repeated themselves in her mind.
A child.
Twenty years ago.
Connected to her.
She wanted to dismiss the entire conversation as a misunderstanding. Wealthy families had complicated histories. Powerful men had secrets. A resemblance in an old photograph did not make her part of some buried tragedy.
But her grandfather's strange final words returned to her.
Some men leave because they believe they're protecting you.
At seven the next morning, Alessandro sent a car to take her to the main house.
Meline refused the car and walked instead.
She wanted to prove that she could move through the estate without being escorted like a witness in a criminal investigation. By the time she reached Giovanni's sitting room, her hair was damp from the mist and her patience had worn thin.
Alessandro was waiting beside the fireplace.
"Good morning," he said.
"Is it?"
He almost smiled.
"Fair point."
Giovanni sat at the table with a stack of papers and a magnifying glass. He looked unusually formal, wearing a dark suit instead of his familiar velvet robe.
"I owe you an explanation," he said.
"You owe me several."
"Then we'll begin with the truth."
He explained that twenty years earlier, the Moretti family had suffered a tragedy. Alessandro's younger sister, Isabella, had given birth to a daughter in a private clinic outside Chicago. The baby had been declared dead shortly after delivery.
Isabella had died six months later in a car accident.
The official records had been signed, sealed, and accepted by the family.
But Giovanni had never believed the baby died.
"Why?" Meline asked.
"Because I heard her cry."
His voice broke on the final word.
"I was in the corridor. I heard a nurse say the baby was alive. Then a doctor came out and told us there had been complications."
"Did you see the child?"
"No."
"Did you investigate?"
"Every way I knew how. The clinic closed. The doctor left the country. The nurse disappeared."
Meline looked at Alessandro.
"And your family accepted that?"
"My father never did," Alessandro said. "I was young. Angry. My mother was devastated. I believed the doctors because I thought the alternative would destroy what remained of my family."
"That doesn't explain why anyone would threaten me."
"No," Giovanni said. "It doesn't."
He slid a photograph across the table.
It showed a young woman with dark hair standing outside a blue house. Her face was thinner than Meline's, but the resemblance was unmistakable: the same wide-set eyes, the same dimple in her left cheek, the same small scar above her eyebrow.
Meline stared at it.
"Who is she?"
"Isabella. My daughter."
Meline's throat tightened.
She had seen the same face in the photograph her grandfather had kept.
"Where did you get this?"
"From the family archives."
She took the photograph from her pocket and placed it beside the other one.
The two images matched.
Giovanni leaned forward, his hands trembling.
"Where did you get that?"
"My grandfather's belongings. His name was Samuel Pierce. He raised me after my mother died."
Alessandro exchanged a glance with his father.
"Samuel Pierce," he repeated. "Was he ever employed at the clinic?"
"I don't know. He worked as a maintenance supervisor for several hospitals before he retired."
Giovanni closed his eyes.
"Samuel was the man who drove Isabella home from her appointments. He was with her the night she gave birth."
Meline felt the air leave her lungs.
"Why would my grandfather hide that from me?"
"Perhaps he was afraid."
"Of whom?"
Before Giovanni could answer, the sitting-room door opened.
A tall woman in a cream-colored suit entered without knocking. Her blond hair was pulled into a severe knot, and a diamond bracelet flashed at her wrist.
Vivienne Moretti, Alessandro's aunt.
Meline recognized her from the estate's formal portraits. Vivienne had the polished appearance of someone who considered ordinary people a necessary inconvenience.
Her gaze fell on the photographs.
For one brief moment, fear crossed her face.
Then it vanished.
"What is this?" she demanded.
Giovanni placed his hand over the pictures.
"Family business."
"Family business that concerns everyone in this house."
Alessandro stood.
"Not anymore."
Vivienne turned to him.
"You have no idea what you're doing. This girl has arrived out of nowhere, and suddenly Father believes she belongs to our family."
"I haven't claimed anything," Meline said.
Vivienne looked her up and down.
"No, of course not. You merely appear whenever there is money to be found."
The insult landed exactly where Vivienne intended.
Meline's face warmed, but she refused to look away.
"I came here to earn a living. I didn't know who Mr. Giovanni was."
"Convenient."
Alessandro stepped between them.
"Apologize."
Vivienne laughed.
"To a maid?"
"To a person you just accused of a crime without evidence."
The room fell silent.
Vivienne's eyes narrowed.
"You sound like your father. That is unfortunate."
She turned toward Giovanni.
"If you reopen this matter, you will destroy the family."
"Perhaps the family should have been more concerned with the truth than its reputation," Giovanni replied.
Vivienne left without another word.
But Meline noticed something as the door closed.
Vivienne had not looked surprised by Isabella's photograph.
She had looked terrified.
That afternoon, Alessandro's security team located Evelyn Shaw.
She was living under a different name in a small town in Wisconsin. She refused to speak on the phone, but she agreed to meet Giovanni in person.
Before the meeting could be arranged, a message arrived on Alessandro's encrypted phone.
The old nurse is dead. She was found in her apartment this morning.
A second message followed.
It contained a photograph of Meline leaving the main house.
Someone had circled her face in red.
May you like
Underneath, four words had been typed.
SHE SHOULD HAVE DIED TOO.
