Chapter 4 - The Letter Beneath the Greenhouse
My darling Nia,
If you're reading this, something I prayed would never happen has finally caught up with us.
Nia's hands trembled.
Enzo stood several feet away, giving her privacy.
The police officer remained nearby while she unfolded the remaining pages.
Her grandmother's handwriting was uneven but familiar.
Seventeen years ago, a frightened young man arrived at my home bleeding through his shirt.
His name was Matteo Costa.
I did not know what he would become.
I only knew he was somebody's child.
Nia blinked through tears.
Evelyn had treated Matteo's injuries until professional medical help arrived.
In the days that followed, she had discovered that the young man was hiding from members of his own criminal organization.
Someone had wanted him dead.
And the person organizing the betrayal was his uncle, Dominic Costa.
Evelyn had sheltered Matteo long enough for him to escape.
He returned months later with money.
She refused it.
Instead, she made him promise something.
If you survive this life, use that survival to become something better.
Nia stopped reading.
She looked at Enzo.
"Did he?"
Enzo stared at the floor.
"Not enough."
She resumed.
Matteo continued sending financial support to Evelyn through a charitable account, believing she was helping vulnerable families.
Eventually, Evelyn discovered that the money was being diverted.
She traced the transactions to a shell corporation connected to Carlo Costa.
When she questioned the arrangement, someone threatened her.
Then a second incident occurred.
Her car brakes failed on a mountain road.
She survived with minor injuries.
Evelyn never believed it was an accident.
She began collecting records.
And she hid them.
Nia lowered the letter.
"My grandmother knew Carlo was stealing."
Enzo looked at the documents.
"She knew more than that."
The box contained property transfers involving abandoned apartment buildings, fraudulent maintenance invoices, and charitable payments routed through companies that appeared to exist only on paper.
Some records were incomplete.
Others contained signatures that Evelyn had marked as questionable.
At the bottom of the box was a photograph.
Carlo stood outside a downtown office building.
Beside him was Beatrice.
And behind them stood a man Nia recognized.
"That's Dr. Keller's assistant."
Enzo leaned closer.
A slender man in a gray suit smiled directly at the camera.
"That's Daniel Mercer," Enzo said.
"Who is he?"
"He's been handling medical logistics at the estate."
Nia stared at the picture.
"Why is he meeting Carlo?"
Enzo took out his phone.
"Good question."
Within an hour, he learned that Mercer had submitted invoices to one of Carlo's companies.
The payments had begun months before Matteo became sick.
The latest transfer was dated the previous week.
Nia felt nauseated.
"Was he involved in the poisoning?"
"We don't know."
"Then we need to tell the police."
Enzo hesitated.
Nia stared at him.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You're lying."
He sighed.
"Police involvement means they start looking at everything."
"Good."
"Matteo has enemies."
"And my grandmother nearly died because she found stolen money."
Enzo looked at her for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"You're right."
They turned the records over to the Oregon investigators, who coordinated with authorities in Denver.
The recording device remained in the box until a technician could safely retrieve its contents.
Nia expected the files to reveal financial fraud.
She wasn't prepared for the first recording.
Evelyn's voice emerged through a laptop speaker.
"Carlo, I know what you've been doing."
A man's laugh followed.
"You've been spending too much time with those dusty old books."
"Those apartments were supposed to be repaired."
"They will be."
"People are living with broken heaters. Children are sleeping under leaking ceilings. Where did the money go?"
A pause.
Then Carlo's voice became cold.
"You're an old woman who should enjoy her retirement."
"I have copies."
"Of what?"
"Everything."
The recording ended.
Nia sat perfectly still.
Her grandmother had confronted him.
And now she was dead.
"How did she die?" Enzo asked quietly.
Nia looked at him.
"Heart failure."
He said nothing.
"She was eighty-one," Nia continued. "The doctors said it was natural."
Enzo's expression became grim.
"We shouldn't jump to conclusions."
"But you're thinking it."
He didn't deny it.
That afternoon, investigators requested Evelyn's medical records, with the family's authorization, to determine whether there was any evidence requiring further inquiry.
Nia wanted answers.
But she also feared discovering that her grandmother's final months had been filled with more terror than she'd ever admitted.
At 4:30 p.m., Dr. Keller called.
Matteo was awake.
"He's asking for you," the doctor said.
Nia hesitated.
"Why?"
"He says there's something he should have told you years ago."
She flew back to Denver that evening.
Matteo was no longer in immediate danger of dying, though the doctors warned that his recovery would take time.
He looked smaller than she'd imagined.
His tattoos stood out sharply against his pale skin.
But his eyes were clear.
"Nia," he said.
She stopped beside his hospital bed.
"Did you know my grandmother?"
He nodded.
"She saved me."
"Then why didn't you protect her?"
The question struck him harder than she expected.
"I thought I had."
He looked away.
"She told me someone was stealing money. I asked Carlo to investigate."
Nia stared.
"You asked Carlo?"
"Yes."
"The person who was stealing it?"
Matteo closed his eyes.
"I didn't know."
"My grandmother was threatened."
"I know that now."
"Her car was tampered with."
His eyes opened.
"What?"
Nia placed a copy of Evelyn's letter on the bed.
Matteo read it.
His face went pale.
When he reached the final paragraph, his hand began to shake.
Nia watched silently.
Then he whispered, "Jesus Christ."
"What?"
He pointed at one sentence.
If I am gone, ask Matteo what happened to the little girl at the Lakewood apartments.
Nia leaned forward.
"Who was the little girl?"
Matteo stared at the letter.
And for the first time since she'd met him, the feared mafia king looked genuinely afraid.
"Her name was Sophie."
He swallowed.
"She was Carlo's daughter."
Nia frowned.
"What happened to her?"
May you like
Matteo's voice became almost inaudible.
"She disappeared twelve years ago."
