Chapter 8 - MARIA BELLINI
Grace drove.
Vincent offered a car and driver.
She refused both.
For once she wanted her own hands on the wheel.
Dominic’s coat lay folded on the back seat.
Antonio’s watch sat in the cup holder.
Vincent sat beside her without speaking.
Elena rode behind them.
Grace had not invited her.
She had simply gotten into the car.
Under any other circumstances, Grace might have ordered her out.
Tonight, Elena carried Gabriel’s rosary.
That was reason enough.
Salvatore followed in another vehicle.
Sebastian stayed behind.
Not because anyone trusted him.
Because Vincent’s men remained with him.
Maria lived in a small house near Lake Geneva.
Nothing about it looked like the home of a woman who had spent twenty-three years hiding from powerful men.
White siding.
Blue shutters.
Bird feeder near the porch.
Grace parked just before dawn.
Maria was already awake.
She opened the door before they reached it.
Gray had touched her dark hair.
She wore jeans, slippers, and an old cardigan.
Her eyes went first to Grace.
Then Vincent.
Then Elena.
Then Dominic’s coat in Grace’s arms.
Maria’s face broke.
“Oh.”
That one sound held twenty-three years.
Grace entered without hugging her.
Maria understood.
Nobody sat until Grace did.
Then she placed the child’s drawing on the kitchen table.
Maria touched the corner.
“I wondered where that went.”
“Salvatore kept it.”
Maria nodded.
“Of course he did.”
Grace stared.
“You knew he helped us escape.”
“Yes.”
“You let me think every Moretti was dangerous.”
“They were.”
“He saved us.”
“He also protected the men who made saving us necessary.”
Fair.
Painful.
Fair.
Grace placed Dominic’s coat beside the drawing.
“Sebastian says you were at the lake before Dad was shot.”
Maria’s eyes closed.
“Yes.”
The answer landed like a stone.
Grace stood again.
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Maria looked at her daughter.
“Because you loved me.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
“I’m tired of people saying that.”
Maria’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
Grace pointed at the coat.
“Did Dad abandon us?”
“No.”
“Did he know we were leaving?”
“No.”
“Did you see Sebastian shoot him?”
Maria’s lips trembled.
“No.”
Grace stopped.
“Then what did you see?”
“Dominic and Sebastian arguing.”
“Before the shot.”
“Yes.”
“And you left?”
Maria shook her head.
“I went back inside for you.”
“You were three. You were asleep upstairs.”
Grace remembered nothing.
Not the house.
Not the car.
Not the father she had lost.
Maria continued.
“Dominic told me to take you and go if anything happened.”
“Because he knew he was in danger.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call police?”
Maria laughed without humor.
“Because the police commissioner had eaten dinner at Antonio’s table two nights earlier.”
Vincent looked away.
Grace noticed.
Maria did too.
“That world was different then.”
Vincent replied quietly.
“Not different enough.”
Maria studied him.
“You look like your father.”
“I’ve been told.”
“You don’t sound like him.”
“I don’t know whether that’s good.”
“It depends on the day.”
Grace almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she pulled the cufflink from her pocket.
Maria’s face changed immediately.
“Where did you find that?”
“In Dad’s coat.”
Maria sat down.
“Then he fought Sebastian.”
“Yes.”
Grace leaned forward.
“Why did you let me believe he ran?”
Maria’s voice broke.
“Because when you were six, you asked me if your father was brave.”
Grace remembered.
A kitchen in Wisconsin.
A cereal bowl.
Her mother turning away too quickly.
“I said I didn’t know.”
“You said some men disappear.”
“Yes.”
“That became the story.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Maria looked at Vincent.
“Because Antonio sent us money.”
Grace froze.
“What?”
“Not much. Enough to move. Enough to change names twice. Enough to keep you in school.”
Vincent frowned.
“My father supported you?”
“For five years.”
“Then?”
“I stopped taking it.”
“Why?”
“Because Dominic would have hated living on Moretti money.”
Grace felt anger rise.
“So you let me work two jobs in college because of pride?”
Maria looked directly at her.
“Yes.”
The honesty was brutal.
“And I was wrong.”
Grace did not expect that.
Maria reached across the table but stopped before touching her.
“I thought refusing their money meant I was free of them.”
Her eyes moved toward Grace’s worn hands.
“I made you pay for my pride.”
Grace looked down.
That apology hurt because it was real.
“I needed the truth.”
“I know.”
“Not a perfect father.”
“I know.”
“You could have told me he died.”
“I was afraid you’d ask how.”
“I did anyway.”
“Yes.”
Maria gave a sad smile.
“You got that from him.”
Grace sat again.
Vincent placed Antonio’s watch on the table.
Maria stared.
“Salvatore kept it.”
“Yes.”
“It stopped at 8:17.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Gabriel told me.”
Elena tightened her hand around the rosary.
Maria looked at her.
“You kept it.”
Elena nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
Maria’s face hardened.
“For what?”
Elena swallowed.
“For lying to you.”
“For protecting Sebastian?”
“Yes.”
“For becoming engaged to Vincent?”
Elena flinched.
“Yes.”
Maria looked at Grace.
“What happened tonight?”
Grace glanced at Elena.
“She made me kneel in spilled wine.”
Maria’s expression changed.
Elena lowered her eyes.
“I slapped her too.”
Vincent looked at Maria.
“She will never do it again.”
Elena’s face tightened, but she did not argue.
Maria looked at her for a long time.
Then said, “Gabriel believed you could become better than Sebastian.”
Elena began crying.
Maria did not comfort her.
“He died believing it.”
That was harsher.
And kinder.
Grace put her hand over Antonio’s watch.
“Who killed Vincent’s father?”
Maria looked at Salvatore, who had entered quietly behind them.
Then at Elena.
Then at Vincent.
“I know who Gabriel believed would kill him.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No.”
Maria sighed.
“But it matters.”
She went to a kitchen cabinet.
From the top shelf, she removed a small tin box.
Inside were postcards.
Old receipts.
A child’s hospital bracelet with Grace’s name.
And one folded note.
No envelope.
No seal.
Just paper worn soft from years of being opened and closed.
Maria handed it to Vincent.
“Gabriel wrote this three days before he died.”
Vincent read aloud.
“Antonio is ready to tell Vincent everything. Sal won’t let him. Sebastian can’t let him. If something happens, the person who profits most will decide which dead man gets blamed.”
Salvatore lowered his eyes.
Maria continued.
“Gabriel knew both men had motive.”
Grace looked at the gold button beside the rosary.
“But you wrote that Elena knows.”
Maria nodded.
“Because she came to me after the funeral.”
Elena whispered, “Maria.”
“You were wearing a white coat.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“There was blood on the sleeve.”
Grace stared.
“Whose?”
“Gabriel’s.”
Elena covered her mouth.
Maria continued.
“You told me Sebastian shot Gabriel.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
Elena shook her head.
“I told you I didn’t see the second shot.”
“You told me something else.”
Vincent’s entire body went still.
“What?”
Maria looked at Elena.
“You said Antonio was still alive after the lights came back.”
Elena frowned.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t remember—”
“You said he grabbed your wrist.”
Elena stopped breathing.
Maria’s voice softened.
“He was still conscious.”
Vincent whispered, “My father spoke to you?”
Elena began shaking.
Memory was coming back.
Not comfortably.
Not cleanly.
She stared at the rosary.
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“I…”
Vincent waited.
No threat.
No demand.
Just pain.
Elena finally looked at him.
“He said, ‘It wasn’t Sal.’”
Salvatore closed his eyes.
Grace felt cold.
Elena continued.
“Then my father came toward us.”
Maria whispered, “And?”
Elena stared into nothing.
“I stepped between them.”
Her hand moved toward her shoulder as if she could still feel Antonio’s grip.
“He pushed something into my palm.”
“What?”
Grace asked.
Elena suddenly looked at her father’s gold button on the table.
Then shook her head.
“Not the button.”
Her eyes widened.
“A ring.”
Vincent froze.
“My father’s lion ring?”
“Yes.”
“I was told it was missing.”
Elena looked horrified.
“I gave it to my father.”
Nobody moved.
Grace whispered, “Why?”
“Because he told me Antonio had stolen it from him.”
Vincent looked at her.
“That was my family’s ring.”
“I know that now.”
Grace felt the final shape forming.
Antonio, alive after the darkness.
Antonio telling Elena it wasn’t Salvatore.
Antonio pressing his lion ring into her hand.
Sebastian taking it.
Maria stood.
“There is only one reason Antonio would give Elena that ring.”
Vincent looked at her.
“What?”
Maria’s voice was steady.
“He knew he was dying.”
She turned toward Elena.
May you like
“And he wanted the ring to end up with the man who shot him.”
---
