Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO SIGNED THE TRANSFER|
Luca's mother had been dead for eight years.
Her name was Isabella Varenna, and from everything Luca had told me, she had been the only person in his childhood who could make his father lower his voice.
She loved music, hated violence, and had spent years trying to keep her sons away from the family's criminal operations.
But according to the hospital records, Isabella had authorized Luca's transfer to a private medical center after his accident.
“Did she ever tell you about it?” I asked.
“No.”
“Maybe she was trying to protect you.”
Luca gave a humorless laugh.
“My mother never kept medical secrets from me.”
We were in the estate's breakfast room. Luca had barely touched his coffee. Marco stood near the door, waiting for instructions.
“Find the facility,” Luca ordered.
“I already did. It was called Saint Gabriel Medical Pavilion. It closed eleven years ago.”
“Who owned it?”
Marco hesitated.
“Your grandfather's holding company.”
Luca stared at him.
“My grandfather died before I was born.”
“Exactly.”
I watched the realization settle over Luca.
The Varenna family had owned the facility before his accident. His father had controlled it afterward. And his mother had apparently signed the transfer.
It was too much to be coincidence.
That afternoon, Luca took me to see my mother.
She was staying in a private room at the hospital, her treatment fully covered under the agreement Luca had made before our wedding. When she saw us enter together, her tired face brightened.
“There's my favorite married couple.”
I smiled and kissed her cheek.
Luca placed a bouquet of white roses beside her bed.
“You're looking stronger today, Mrs. Brooks.”
“Don't flatter me, Luca. I look like a woman who needs a nap.”
He smiled politely.
My mother looked from him to me.
“Is everything all right?”
I glanced at Luca.
He nodded.
“We have some family questions to investigate,” he said. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
My mother studied his expression.
“People who say that usually mean the opposite.”
Luca respected her too much to argue.
Before we left, she caught my wrist.
“Evelyn, can I speak to you alone?”
I followed her toward the window.
She lowered her voice.
“Your husband's family has a history with the hospital where you were born.”
I frowned.
“What hospital?”
“St. Catherine's. I worked in the billing office there for a few months when you were little. The Varenna family donated a great deal of money.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because when Luca's mother was alive, she visited me once.”
My heart skipped.
“What did she want?”
My mother looked frightened.
“She asked me to keep something safe. I didn't understand what it was at the time.”
“What was it?”
“A letter.”
“Where is it?”
“I gave it to someone.”
“Who?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Your father.”
I had never known my father. He had disappeared when I was three, and my mother had always said he died in a construction accident.
“Mom, you told me Dad was dead.”
“I thought he was.”
Luca appeared beside us.
“Mrs. Brooks, what letter?”
My mother looked at him.
“Isabella said your father was lying to you. She said he would do anything to keep you from learning the truth about the accident.”
Luca went completely still.
“Which father?”
My mother swallowed.
“Augusto.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then my mother reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a small envelope.
“I kept a copy,” she whispered. “I was afraid the original would disappear.”
Luca opened it carefully.
Inside was a single handwritten page.
The first line read:
If Luca ever becomes a father, Augusto must never be allowed near the child.
Luca's eyes moved to the bottom.
There was a signature.
Isabella Varenna.
And beneath it, a date written three weeks before Luca's accident.
May you like
But the final sentence was what made him step backward.
The boy was never supposed to survive the second operation.
