Chapter 5 - THE AUNT WHO WAS NEVER BURIED|
Donatella stared at the photograph until the screen dimmed.
Teresa Mancini had been a name whispered in her childhood, a woman her mother described as brilliant, stubborn, and tragically unlucky. According to Isabella, Teresa had died in a hospital fire before Donatella was born. There had been no body to bury, only a death certificate and a brief notice in a local newspaper.
Yet the woman in the photograph had Teresa's distinctive nose, the same silver streak in her dark hair, and a small crescent-shaped scar beside her left eye.
"She's alive," Donatella whispered.
Ettore leaned over her shoulder.
"Do you know where this was taken?"
"No. But whoever sent it wants me to believe my aunt is alive."
"Or wants you to do something foolish."
She looked at him sharply.
"Not everyone who threatens me is lying."
"No. But not everyone who shows you a photograph is telling the truth."
Marco traced the image through the security system. It appeared to have been taken inside Saint Catherine's Medical Center, a private facility on the northern edge of the city. The metadata had been stripped, but the reflection in the window showed the distinctive red clock tower across the street.
Ettore wanted to send a full security team.
Donatella refused.
"If Teresa is alive, a convoy of armed men could frighten her into silence."
"If someone is using her to lure you out, arriving alone could get you killed."
"Then we compromise. Two cars, no uniforms, and nobody approaches her room until I confirm she's there."
Ettore studied her for a long moment.
"You negotiate like someone who has spent her life dealing with dangerous men."
"I grew up with an unpredictable father and a mother who never explained why she was afraid of the telephone."
"Your father?"
Donatella looked away.
"He disappeared when I was seven. My mother told me he had left us. When I was older, she admitted she hadn't heard from him in years."
"His name?"
"Matteo Bellini."
Ettore's face changed so abruptly that Donatella noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That wasn't a nothing expression."
He took a breath.
"Matteo Bellini was a financial investigator. He worked with my father shortly before the car fire."
"Did you know him?"
"I knew his name. He was accused of stealing confidential documents and disappearing before he could be questioned."
Donatella felt as if the floor had tilted beneath her.
"My mother never said that."
"Perhaps she didn't want you to inherit his enemies."
The next morning, they reached Saint Catherine's in separate cars. Ettore remained outside with Marco while Donatella entered the hospital wearing a simple coat and a scarf around her neck.
She found Teresa in a private room on the fourth floor.
The older woman was thinner than the photograph suggested. A medical monitor beeped beside her bed, and a half-finished cup of tea sat untouched on the table.
When Donatella entered, Teresa turned toward the sound of the door.
"Isabella?" she whispered.
"No, Aunt Teresa. It's Donatella."
The older woman closed her eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
"My God. You have her face."
Donatella approached slowly.
"Why did everyone say you were dead?"
"Because the people who wanted your mother silenced needed the world to believe that nobody from her family remained."
"Who wanted her silenced?"
Teresa gripped her hand.
"The man who controlled the money. The man who made your father disappear. The man who convinced Ettore Moretti that your mother had betrayed him."
"Who?"
Teresa glanced toward the door, terrified.
Before she could answer, the room's lights flickered. A nurse entered carrying a clipboard, followed by a man in a gray coat.
The man smiled at Donatella.
"Miss Mancini, I'm here to transfer your aunt to another facility."
"Who authorized that?"
He produced a document.
Teresa began shaking violently.
"Don't let him take me," she whispered. "Donatella, please. That's the man who killed your mother."
Donatella stepped between them.
"Get out."
The man reached inside his coat.
At that exact moment, the door flew open, and Ettore Moretti entered with Marco behind him.
The stranger lowered his hand.
Ettore stared at him with unmistakable recognition.
"Vincent," he said quietly. "I thought you were in Chicago."
Vincent Caruso smiled.
"So did I, Don."
May you like
Then he looked at Donatella.
"And now that you've found the old woman, I suppose there's no point pretending this is still about restaurant accounts."
