Chapter 7 - THE GRAVE IN THE GARDEN
The heavy leather journal hit the hardwood floor with a dull thud.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
I stumbled backward, bumping into the heavy oak dresser. The cold wood pressed against my spine, but it was the only thing keeping me upright.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head violently. “No, you’re lying. My mother is dead. I buried her three years ago.”
Arthur looked at me with immense pity. His frail chest rose and fell rapidly.
“She… didn't… die,” Arthur forced out. “She… came back.”
Luca stood frozen, his mind desperately trying to piece together a puzzle that had just changed its shape entirely.
“Dad,” Luca said carefully. “Are you saying Eleanor… Nora’s mother… is Carlo Bellini’s sister?”
Arthur nodded.
“She… was born… Elena Bellini,” Arthur rasped. “She ran away… changed her name. Wanted… a normal life.”
I couldn't process the words. My mother—the quiet, hardworking waitress who baked me birthday cakes and worked double shifts to pay for my winter coats—was a Bellini?
“But Mrs. Gable just told me my mother was your mistress,” I cried, the tears spilling over. “She said you took her first baby away! She said you took Luca!”
Arthur’s eyes widened in horror.
He looked at Luca, then back at me.
“Gable… lied,” Arthur whispered fiercely. “She… lied to… hurt you.”
Arthur reached out, his trembling fingers gripping Luca’s sleeve.
“You… are… Rosa’s son,” Arthur swore to Luca. “You… are mine.”
Luca exhaled a shaky breath, the relief visible on his face. He gently covered his father’s hand with his own.
“Then what happened to my mother’s first baby?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Who was she pregnant with thirty years ago?”
Arthur lowered his eyes. The guilt radiating from the old man was palpable.
“She… was pregnant… by Carlo,” Arthur whispered.
The room went dead silent.
“Carlo Bellini was her brother,” Luca said slowly, the disgust evident in his tone.
“Half-brother,” Arthur clarified weakly. “Carlo… forced her. That’s why… she ran away. She… changed her name… to hide… from him.”
I felt physically sick. The baby kicked sharply in my stomach, a brutal reminder of innocent life amidst this horror.
“She came to me… for help,” Arthur continued, looking at Luca. “I hid her… in this house. She worked… as a maid. But Carlo… found out.”
Arthur closed his eyes, the memory clearly torturing him.
“He threatened… to kill Rosa. To kill… you, Luca. If I didn't… give Elena back.”
“So you gave her back to him?” I asked, stepping closer to the bed, anger finally slicing through my shock. “You handed my mother over to a monster?”
“No,” Arthur gasped. “She… surrendered. To save… this family.”
Arthur looked at me, his eyes filled with tears.
“She gave birth… to Carlo’s son. And Carlo… took him.”
I stared at him, the pieces finally locking into place.
“Michael,” I whispered.
Arthur nodded.
Michael wasn't the product of an affair between Rosa and Carlo. Michael was the child of Carlo and my mother. Rosa had raised him, hiding the horrific truth to protect the family from a war.
“And my mother?” I asked, my voice trembling. “You said she came back.”
“Three years ago,” Arthur said. “When Carlo… died. She… took over. She runs… the Bellinis now.”
I shook my head, backing away toward the door.
“No. I sat by her hospital bed. I watched her die of cancer.”
“Did you… see the body… go into the ground?” Arthur asked gently.
I stopped.
I hadn't. The hospital had handled the arrangements. The coffin was closed because they told me the chemotherapy had ravaged her appearance too much. I had stood in the rain, staring at a wooden box, crying for a woman who was supposedly inside it.
“She faked her death to protect you,” Luca realized, looking at me. “If she took over the syndicate, you would be a target. She wanted you to stay hidden in your normal life.”
“But I’m not hidden!” I cried, gesturing wildly around the room. “I’m standing in the middle of a mafia war, pregnant, and my psycho half-brother is currently locked in a vault downstairs!”
Before Luca could answer, Daniel burst back into the bedroom, completely out of breath.
“Boss,” Daniel panted. “We have a massive problem.”
“What is it?” Luca demanded.
“The front gates just got breached. Three armored SUVs just pulled into the driveway. We’re surrounded.”
Luca drew his gun. “Bellini men?”
Daniel shook his head, looking completely terrified.
“Worse. It’s her.”
Daniel pointed out the large window overlooking the circular driveway.
I walked slowly to the glass, terrified of what I was going to see.
Standing in the pouring rain, surrounded by twenty armed men, was a woman wearing a black trench coat.
She looked up at the master suite window.
Even through the rain and the darkness, I recognized her instantly.
It was my mother.
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And she was holding a megaphone.
“Luca Moretti,” her voice echoed across the lawn, cold and authoritative. “Send my daughter out, and I won't burn this house to the ground.”
