Chapter 6 - THE MAID WHO SAW TOO MUCH
Z
The police called Victor Salerno’s death a suicide before noon.
By lunch, television experts were discussing organized crime, betrayal and the convenient conclusion that Victor had murdered Matteo Moretti before guilt finally consumed him.
Alessandro watched none of it.
Instead, he sat at Marcus Vale’s kitchen table with Elena, analyzing the photograph of Victor’s supposed confession.
“Look at the signature,” Elena said.
Alessandro glanced at her.
“What about it?”
“It’s too clean.”
Marcus leaned closer.
Elena pointed.
“Your godfather supposedly wrote two pages while emotionally distraught, then signed his name perfectly on the line?”
Alessandro studied it.
“You worked in a diner.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re a forensic-document expert?”
“No. I’m a person who has spent years filling out medical forms for two dying parents. People with painful hands don’t write like that.”
The room went silent.
Alessandro enlarged the image.
She was right.
Victor’s handwriting throughout the note trembled dramatically.
The signature did not.
Marcus nodded.
“Copied.”
“Or traced,” Elena said.
Alessandro looked at her with open admiration.
She shifted.
“Stop.”
“What?”
“Looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I just solved world peace.”
“You noticed what six investigators apparently missed.”
“Those investigators may have been paid not to notice.”
He smiled.
“See? Again.”
Elena rolled her eyes.
But the warmth remained.
At three o’clock, Lena entered carrying a cardboard box.
“I found something.”
Inside were Matteo’s belongings.
Old photographs.
A watch.
Concert tickets.
A keychain.
A children’s book.
Alessandro picked it up.
Goodnight Moon.
“He bought this before Noah was born,” Lena said.
Alessandro opened the cover.
Matteo’s handwriting filled the first page.
For my little star. I’ll meet you soon.
Alessandro stared for a long time.
“He knew?”
Lena nodded.
“I told him three days before he died.”
Elena covered her mouth.
Lena’s eyes filled.
“He was terrified. Happy, but terrified. He said the Moretti name came with enemies Noah had never asked for.”
“That’s why you disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“Why Marcus?”
“Matteo sent me to him.”
Alessandro looked toward Marcus.
His old enemy leaned against the doorway.
“Matteo thought I was the only man outside your organization with enough resources to hide them.”
“And you did.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Marcus shrugged.
“Because Matteo once saved my sister.”
Alessandro frowned.
“When?”
“Before you and I became enemies. A drunk driver hit her car. Matteo was behind her. He pulled her out before the engine caught fire.”
Marcus looked at Noah’s book.
“I owed him.”
Alessandro absorbed the irony.
Three years of vengeance had been built on incomplete information.
How many other things in his life had he misunderstood because rage had been easier than grief?
Elena touched his arm.
He looked down.
She did not pull away.
That evening, Alessandro insisted Elena sleep.
She refused.
“You’ve been awake almost thirty-six hours.”
“So have you.”
“I’m accustomed to it.”
“You’re accustomed to terrible decisions.”
He gave her a look.
“Bed.”
“Do not order me.”
“Please go to bed.”
She blinked.
The word again.
Please.
He had learned quickly.
“Fine.”
Marcus gave her the guest room at the end of the hallway.
Elena showered, borrowed one of Lena’s oversized T-shirts and climbed beneath the blankets.
She did not sleep.
At midnight, she heard quiet movement in the kitchen.
Alessandro stood alone by the window.
No jacket.
No tie.
Just black trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
“You’re terrible at following instructions,” he said without turning.
“So are you.”
He held two cups.
“Tea?”
She accepted one.
For several minutes they stood in silence.
Then Alessandro said, “Tell me why you really resigned.”
“You know.”
“I know part.”
Elena looked down.
Rain reflected city lights against the glass.
“I couldn’t watch you build a life with someone else.”
His breathing changed.
She forced herself to continue.
“I hated myself for feeling that way. You never promised me anything.”
“I should have.”
“No. You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I can keep this one.”
“What promise?”
“That I will never use you as part of a strategy.”
She smiled sadly.
“You already did.”
“How?”
“Every time you looked at me and said nothing because silence was safer for your plans.”
He absorbed that.
“You’re right.”
Elena turned toward him.
“No argument?”
“I’m becoming very mature.”
She laughed.
The sound startled both of them.
It had been too long.
Alessandro smiled.
There it was again.
That quiet smile from the kitchen two years ago.
The one that had started everything.
He reached toward her face.
Then stopped before touching.
“May I?”
Elena’s heart pounded.
Nobody had ever asked her that way.
Not men who flirted with her.
Not men who wanted to hide her.
Not men who assumed her softness meant gratitude for any attention offered.
She nodded.
Alessandro brushed one damp strand of hair behind her ear.
His fingertips barely touched her cheek.
“You’re beautiful.”
Elena looked away automatically.
He gently caught her chin.
“I wasn’t asking you to agree.”
Her throat tightened.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“Men have called me beautiful before.”
His brow furrowed.
“That sounds positive.”
“Usually five minutes before asking me to keep whatever happened between us private.”
Understanding darkened his face.
Elena continued.
“I was good enough to want. Never good enough to choose where anyone could see.”
Alessandro’s hand dropped.
Not because he rejected her.
Because he looked furious.
“At them?”
“At the world, perhaps.”
“You chose Victoria where everyone could see.”
The sentence escaped before she could stop it.
Pain crossed his face.
“Yes.”
Elena instantly regretted it.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you meant.”
He stepped back.
“And exactly what I did.”
The silence hurt.
Then Alessandro said, “If I survive this mess, there is something I intend to do.”
“What?”
“Choose you where everyone can see.”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“You don’t get to promise me a future when we don’t even know whether you’ll survive the week.”
“You’re right.”
His voice softened.
“So I’ll start smaller.”
“How?”
“Tomorrow morning, I’m making you pancakes.”
She stared.
“The criminal empire can wait?”
“For one hour.”
“With chocolate chips?”
His expression became pained.
“You and Noah are destroying breakfast.”
Elena smiled.
Then a small sound came from the hallway.
They turned.
Noah stood in dinosaur pajamas.
“Uncle Alessandro?”
“Yes?”
“I had a bad dream.”
Alessandro crossed the room immediately.
Noah lifted his arms.
And the feared mafia boss picked him up without hesitation.
Elena watched the child rest his cheek against Alessandro’s shoulder.
Something inside her shifted.
Then Noah looked sleepily at her.
“Aunt Ellie?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Are you gonna marry Uncle Alessandro?”
Alessandro nearly dropped the tea.
Elena choked.
From the hallway Marcus said, “Best question anyone has asked all day.”
Alessandro turned.
“I still know how to kill you.”
Marcus disappeared.
Noah yawned.
“So?”
Elena laughed.
“We’re going back to bed.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
Alessandro looked at her.
Neither of them noticed the small red light blinking from a smoke detector above the kitchen doorway.
May you like
A camera.
Someone was watching.
