Chapter 3 - The Grandmother Who Knew the Mafia King
"My grandmother knew Matteo Costa?"
Enzo didn't answer immediately.
He kept staring at the photograph as though it had suddenly become a loaded weapon.
Finally, he sat down.
"Seventeen years ago, Matteo was twenty-one."
Nia folded her arms.
"And?"
"He was wounded during a confrontation outside Portland. Someone brought him to a farmhouse."
"My grandmother's farmhouse?"
"Yes."
Nia shook her head.
"She would never have helped someone like him."
Enzo looked at her.
"She helped people who needed it."
Nia remembered Evelyn Lewis opening her kitchen to homeless neighbors, nursing injured animals, and refusing payment from families who couldn't afford groceries.
Yes.
That sounded like her grandmother.
But a mafia heir?
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"Perhaps she wanted you nowhere near this world."
Nia looked toward the dark window.
"She should've told me."
Enzo said nothing.
His phone rang.
Another message from the hospital.
Matteo remained in intensive care, but the team had begun treating him for suspected cardiac glycoside poisoning and was monitoring him closely.
Nia felt a small flicker of hope.
Then Enzo showed her something else.
A payment record.
Every December, for seventeen years, Matteo had sent money to an account connected to Evelyn Lewis.
The amounts varied.
Two thousand dollars.
Five thousand.
Sometimes ten.
Nia stared.
"She never had money like that."
"Maybe she gave it away."
"My grandmother barely replaced her own refrigerator."
Enzo scrolled.
The last payment had been made three weeks before Evelyn died.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
Nia's hands began to shake.
"Where did it go?"
"That's what I intend to find out."
They checked the account.
It had been closed.
The final balance was zero.
And the person who had authorized the closure was listed as Carlo Costa.
Nia looked up.
"Why would Carlo have access to her account?"
Enzo's face darkened.
"I don't know."
"Then find out."
For the first time, he looked surprised by her tone.
Nia didn't care.
Someone had stolen her belongings.
Someone had threatened her home.
And now she had discovered that her grandmother's life had been connected to the Costa family for nearly two decades.
She wasn't going to keep her eyes on the floor anymore.
At midnight, Enzo drove her to a secure guesthouse on the estate.
Two guards waited outside.
Nia stopped at the entrance.
"Am I a prisoner?"
"No."
"Then why are there guards?"
"Because somebody knows where your grandmother lived."
She studied him.
"Can I trust you?"
Enzo looked away.
"Trust is expensive around here."
"That's not an answer."
"No," he said. "It isn't."
Inside, Nia found clean clothes, toiletries, and a warm meal waiting.
She hadn't eaten since morning.
Yet she couldn't touch the food.
Her phone buzzed.
A photograph appeared from an unknown number.
It showed her grandmother's farmhouse.
The front door stood open.
The porch light was on.
Below the photograph was a message.
Your memories won't survive the night.
Nia screamed for Enzo.
He arrived seconds later.
When he saw the picture, his expression changed.
He made three calls.
Then he turned to her.
"Police in Oregon are being notified. I'm also sending someone to check the property, but they won't interfere with the police."
Nia shook her head.
"My grandmother kept everything there."
"We'll do what we can."
"Her photographs. Her letters. My mother's wedding dress."
Her voice broke.
Enzo's expression softened.
Just slightly.
"I understand."
"No, you don't."
He looked at her.
"My brother was killed when I was twenty-six."
Nia went quiet.
"All I have left is a photograph of us fishing."
He glanced down.
"I understand more than you think."
At 2:13 a.m., his phone rang.
The farmhouse had been broken into.
The intruders were gone.
A fire had started in the detached greenhouse, but firefighters had contained it.
The house itself was still standing.
Nia sagged against the wall.
"Thank God."
Enzo listened to the caller.
Then his expression changed again.
"What do you mean, a hidden compartment?"
Nia looked up.
Enzo put the call on speaker.
A police officer in Oregon spoke.
"Miss Lewis, we're investigating the break-in. During a preliminary safety inspection, firefighters discovered a metal box beneath a loose floorboard in the greenhouse."
Nia pressed a hand against her mouth.
"My grandmother had a box?"
"We haven't opened it. We need to establish ownership and handle anything relevant to the investigation appropriately."
Enzo glanced at her.
Nia whispered, "I want to see it."
By morning, arrangements had been made for Nia to travel to Oregon and meet the investigating officers.
Enzo insisted on accompanying her.
Nia didn't argue.
At the hospital, Matteo had begun responding to treatment.
But when Keller told him someone had broken into Evelyn Lewis's home, he became agitated.
"Find Nia," he rasped.
Keller adjusted the monitor.
"You need to rest."
"Find her."
"Mr. Costa—"
Matteo grabbed his wrist.
"That woman saved my life once."
His voice cracked.
"I promised her something."
Keller waited.
Matteo swallowed.
"I promised that if anything happened to Evelyn, her granddaughter would never be alone."
He closed his eyes.
"And I broke my word."
Thousands of miles away, Nia stood inside her grandmother's damaged greenhouse.
The smell of wet ash hung in the air.
An officer opened the recovered metal box in her presence.
Inside were photographs.
Bank statements.
A sealed envelope.
And a small recording device.
The envelope had Nia's name written across it.
In her grandmother's unmistakable handwriting.
For Nia. Open only when the Costa family comes looking for you.
May you like
Nia stared at the words.
Then she broke the seal.
