Chapter 3 - The Name in the Phone
Nia stopped breathing.
“What?”
Enzo unlocked Carlo’s phone.
“He deleted the thread, but our security guy recovered part of it.”
Matteo pushed weakly against the pillows.
“Read it.”
Enzo hesitated.
“Read it.”
The underboss obeyed.
“Wednesday, 11:42 p.m. Carlo receives: ‘The Lewis girl opened the canister. Handle her before she remembers Oregon.’”
Nia felt cold spread through her body.
Oregon.
Nobody in the Costa household knew about Oregon.
Her employment file listed her current address, Social Security information, and previous housekeeping jobs in Baltimore.
Her childhood had never come up.
Matteo stared at her.
“Who knew?”
“My grandmother. My mother. People back home.”
“Your grandmother?”
“Dead.”
“Mother?”
“Dead too.”
“Father?”
Nia looked away.
“Gone since I was 8.”
Enzo scrolled.
“The number is encrypted.”
“Trace it.”
“We’re trying.”
Nia stood.
“I need to go home.”
“No,” Matteo said.
She stared at him.
“My things are there.”
“Things can be replaced.”
“My grandmother’s journals aren’t things.”
Matteo’s eyes sharpened despite his weakness.
“Someone knew those journals would lead you to the poison.”
Nia understood.
Her apartment.
She ran toward the door.
Enzo caught her arm.
“Stop.”
“Let me go!”
“If someone is waiting for you, running home alone is exactly what they want.”
“My journals are all I have left of her.”
Matteo watched her struggle.
Then he said, “Enzo. Take 4 men. Go with her.”
“You need me here.”
“I need the woman who saved me alive.”
Nia stopped fighting.
Matteo looked at her.
“And apparently that means protecting some notebooks too.”
Forty minutes later, 2 black SUVs pulled onto Nia’s street.
She knew something was wrong before the vehicles stopped.
Her apartment window was open.
She never left it open.
Not in September.
Enzo ordered her to remain in the SUV while his men entered.
Nia ignored him after 30 seconds.
“Nia!”
She ran upstairs.
The door had been forced.
Her apartment looked as though a hurricane had developed personal resentment.
Couch cushions had been cut open. Kitchen cabinets stood empty. Flour covered the floor. Her mattress had been overturned.
Nia rushed to the bedroom closet.
The old green metal box was gone.
“No.”
Enzo appeared behind her.
“What was inside?”
“My grandmother’s journals.”
“All of them?”
Nia dropped to her knees.
Then she remembered.
“No.”
She crawled under the bed and reached behind a loose strip of baseboard.
Her fingers found paper.
She pulled out one thin leather notebook.
Enzo raised an eyebrow.
“You hide books in walls?”
“My grandmother taught me never to keep everything important in one place.”
“Smart woman.”
Nia hugged the notebook against her chest.
A sound came from the kitchen.
Enzo spun.
Glass shattered.
One of his men shouted.
Then came a gunshot.
Enzo shoved Nia behind the bedroom wall.
“Stay here.”
He disappeared.
Nia heard running footsteps.
Another shot.
Silence.
Then Enzo called, “Clear.”
A man had escaped through the fire stairs.
But he had left something behind.
On Nia’s kitchen table sat a photograph.
It showed her grandmother standing beside her Oregon greenhouse.
Next to her was a younger man.
Nia recognized him immediately.
Carlo Costa.
On the back, someone had written 5 words:
ASK MATTEO ABOUT PROJECT EDEN.
Nia stared at it.
“Your grandmother knew Carlo?” Enzo asked.
“No.”
But the photograph said otherwise.
Back at the estate, Matteo was sitting upright for the first time in days.
Color had not returned to his face, but consciousness had.
Nia placed the photograph in his hands.
Matteo stared.
His expression became unreadable.
“You know something,” Nia said.
Enzo closed the bedroom doors.
Matteo looked at him.
“Leave us.”
“No.”
“Enzo.”
“I’m done leaving you alone with people.”
Matteo almost smiled.
“Then stand by the door.”
Nia crossed her arms.
“What is Project Eden?”
Matteo looked at the photograph again.
“Something my father funded 18 years ago.”
“My grandmother was involved?”
“Apparently.”
“Apparently isn’t an answer.”
Enzo gave Nia a warning look.
Matteo did not.
Instead, he seemed almost impressed.
“My father invested in pharmaceutical companies. One of them studied botanical compounds. Your grandmother may have consulted for them.”
“Why would Carlo have been there?”
“I don’t know.”
Nia studied him.
“You’re lying.”
Enzo muttered something in Italian.
Matteo’s gaze remained on her.
“You saved me yesterday, and today you’re accusing me of lying in my own bedroom.”
“Yes.”
“Interesting career strategy.”
“I was planning to quit anyway.”
That surprised him.
“Why?”
“Someone broke into my apartment because I work here.”
Matteo’s humor vanished.
“You’re right.”
Nia had expected an argument.
Instead, Matteo looked genuinely ashamed.
“I brought danger to your door.”
“You didn’t break into my apartment.”
“My world did.”
The admission disarmed her more than denial would have.
Matteo handed the photograph back.
“I know Eden existed. I don’t know why your grandmother was connected to Carlo.”
“Then we find out.”
Enzo shook his head.
“We?”
Nia opened the surviving journal.
Pages of her grandmother’s tight handwriting filled it.
Botanical names.
Dosages.
Warnings.
Dates.
Near the back, Nia found several pages torn out.
Her stomach tightened.
“They knew exactly which journal to steal.”
Matteo leaned closer.
Nia turned another page.
A sentence was underlined twice.
Never trust C.C. He wants the formula, not the medicine.
C.C.
Carlo Costa.
Below it was another note.
If anything happens to me, find Elena Costa.
Matteo went still.
Nia looked up.
“Who is Elena?”
“My mother.”
“Can we ask her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“Because she died 14 years ago.”
Nia slowly closed the journal.
The conspiracy was older than Carlo’s tea.
Older than her job.
Possibly older than her mother’s death.
Matteo looked exhausted again, but now there was something dangerous behind his eyes.
Not sickness.
Purpose.
“Enzo.”
“Yes?”
“Carlo stays alive.”
Enzo looked disappointed.
“For now.”
Matteo turned to Nia.
“And you stay here.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“No.”
“Then my answer is no.”
Matteo stared at her.
Nia stared back.
Finally, he sighed.
“You are the most difficult employee I have.”
“I clean toilets for $18 an hour. I’m not exactly enjoying the benefits package.”
Enzo coughed to hide a laugh.
Matteo almost smiled.
Then Nia’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone froze.
She answered cautiously.
“Hello?”
A woman whispered, “Nia Lewis?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Who is this?”
“My name is Dr. Evelyn Hart.”
Nia glanced at Matteo.
The woman continued.
“I worked with your grandmother on Project Eden.”
Nia’s pulse accelerated.
“Where are you?”
“Not safe.”
“What do you want?”
“To warn you.”
“About Carlo?”
A long silence.
Then Evelyn said something that changed everything.
“Carlo Costa didn’t start Project Eden.”
Nia looked at Matteo.
“Who did?”
The woman inhaled shakily.
May you like
“Matteo’s father did.”
The line went dead.
