Chapter 13 - THE WOMAN BEHIND THE FAMILY PORTRAIT|
Aurelio's mother, Isabella Marchetti, had been dead for eight years.
At least, that was what Clara had been told.
She had seen her portrait hanging in the estate hallway: an elegant woman with dark hair, pale skin, and an expression that seemed permanently disappointed.
Aurelio rarely spoke about her.
When he did, he described her as fragile, private, and deeply devoted to her family.
Now her voice appeared on a recording discussing Clara's disappearance.
Clara replayed the audio several times.
There was no doubt.
It was Isabella.
Margaret contacted Thomas Hale, who agreed to meet them at a secure office.
He listened to the recording without interrupting.
When it ended, he placed his hands on the table.
"There's something you need to know about Isabella Marchetti."
He explained that Isabella had officially died in a private clinic in Switzerland. No public autopsy had been performed, and the family had refused to release medical records.
The death certificate had been issued through a private legal office.
Thomas had always suspected something was wrong.
"Are you saying she's alive?"
"I'm saying her death was never properly verified."
Clara felt a chill.
They arranged to examine the old records.
By afternoon, Thomas had found a property registered under a different name.
It was a secluded estate outside Boston.
A woman matching Isabella's description had been photographed there six months earlier.
Clara stared at the photograph.
"She looks exactly the same."
"She may have received medical treatment and avoided public appearances," Thomas said.
"Why would she help Anselmo?"
"That's what we need to discover."
Aurelio arrived shortly afterward.
He had been informed about the recording.
When he heard his mother's voice, his face became expressionless.
"Impossible."
Clara watched him.
"You recognize it?"
"Of course."
"Then explain."
He listened again.
When it ended, he turned away.
"My mother died in Switzerland."
"That's what the documents say."
"I attended her funeral."
"Did you see her body?"
His silence was answer enough.
Aurelio walked toward the window.
"Anselmo told me she was too ill for visitors. He said she died before I arrived."
Clara folded her arms.
"You never questioned it?"
"I was twenty-eight. My father was dead. My brother had disappeared. I was trying to keep the family from collapsing."
"And now?"
He looked at her.
"Now I want to know who has been controlling my life."
For a moment, Clara saw something familiar in his face.
Not the arrogant heir.
Not the man who had humiliated her.
A son who had just discovered that his mother might have betrayed him.
Thomas placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Isabella entering the Boston estate.
Aurelio picked it up.
His hand trembled slightly.
"That's her."
They drove to the property that evening.
The estate was surrounded by trees and a high stone wall. Security cameras watched the entrance.
Aurelio ordered his men to remain outside.
He approached the front door alone.
Clara followed with Thomas.
Before Aurelio could knock, the door opened.
A woman stood inside.
Her hair was silver now, but her eyes were unmistakable.
"Aurelio," she whispered.
He stared at her.
"Mother?"
Isabella looked beyond him.
Her gaze settled on Clara.
Then she smiled.
"You're the girl Edward Bennett's daughter."
Clara felt her blood turn cold.
May you like
Isabella stepped aside.
"Come in. There's something I've been waiting twenty years to tell you."
