Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN IN RED FINALLY TOLD THE TRUTH
Nico wanted to go immediately.
I didn't try to stop him.
I only said, “If you go angry, Matteo wins.”
He turned toward me.
“My mother is tied to a chair.”
“I can see that.”
“He has explosives.”
“I can see that too.”
“Ava.”
“Nico.”
I stood slowly, one hand braced against the bed.
Pain moved through me, but I stayed upright.
“For seven years, I've watched you become exactly what your enemies expect when they hurt someone you love.”
His face hardened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you stop thinking.”
Vincent didn't move.
Smart man.
I continued.
“You become violent, predictable, and impossible to reason with.”
“My mother—”
“Needs you smart.”
That landed.
Nico looked at the video.
Teresa sat very still.
Bianca remained near the nursery.
Matteo was no longer visible.
“What do you suggest?”
It was the first time Nico Moretti had ever asked me that during a crisis.
I looked at Vincent.
“Can Bianca hear us if we call the apartment?”
“Probably.”
“Call.”
Nico frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Matteo said Bianca planted the explosives.”
“Yes.”
“But Bianca doesn't look happy.”
Nico studied the screen.
I was right.
She looked frightened.
Not for Teresa.
For herself.
Vincent called the apartment landline.
On camera, Bianca stared at the ringing phone.
Second ring.
Third.
She answered.
“Ava?”
I put the call on speaker.
“Bianca.”
Nico's body stiffened at her voice.
“You look terrible,” she said.
“I gave birth yesterday.”
“I heard.”
“You arranged the photograph.”
“Yes.”
Nico's jaw tightened.
I ignored him.
“Why?”
“To separate you from Nico.”
“At Matteo's request?”
Silence.
“Bianca.”
“Yes.”
There it was.
“Why?”
She looked toward the kitchen doorway before answering.
“Because he promised me the Falcone properties Nico took six years ago.”
Nico spoke for the first time.
“You could have asked.”
Bianca laughed bitterly.
“And you would have handed back three casinos and a shipping terminal?”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
I said, “Did you know Matteo planned to take Lila?”
Bianca's expression changed.
“No.”
Nico stared at the monitor.
“She's lying.”
“I am not.”
“You told me my child wouldn't survive.”
“I told you what Matteo told me to say.”
“You threatened a baby.”
“I was told there would be no baby yet!”
Her composure cracked.
“I thought Ava had two more weeks.”
I looked at Nico.
“So Matteo lied to her too.”
Bianca continued.
“The plan was to keep you at Bellario's while Matteo got the envelope. The photograph was supposed to make Ava leave you after the birth.”
My throat burned.
“You were willing to destroy my family for property.”
Bianca looked at me.
“Yes.”
No excuse.
Oddly, I respected the honesty more than I expected.
“Did you plant explosives?”
Her eyes moved toward something offscreen.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Ava—” Vincent warned.
I kept going.
“Enough to destroy the floor?”
“No.”
Matteo had lied again.
Bianca lowered her voice.
“Enough to scare Teresa. Windows, walls. Not structural.”
Nico stepped closer.
“Can you disarm them?”
“Yes.”
“Then do it.”
Bianca laughed softly.
“Matteo will kill me.”
Nico's expression turned cold.
“If my mother dies, you'll wish Matteo got there first.”
I grabbed Nico's wrist.
He looked at me.
I shook my head.
Not like this.
He pulled in a breath.
Then tried again.
“Bianca.”
She looked at the camera.
“Help my mother and I will make sure you live long enough to testify.”
Bianca stared.
“That is your generous offer?”
“No.”
Nico looked toward me before continuing.
“I will return the Falcone family residence in Oyster Bay to your mother.”
Bianca went still.
Apparently that mattered.
Nico continued.
“Not the businesses. Not the casinos. The house.”
Bianca's eyes filled for one second.
Then hardened.
“My mother was born there.”
“I know.”
“You burned my father's office in that house.”
“Your father tried to kill Vincent.”
“Still.”
Nico nodded.
“Still.”
I watched something shift between them.
Not forgiveness.
Recognition.
Two people raised in families where property carried ghosts.
Bianca lowered the phone.
“Give me ten minutes.”
She hung up.
Nico immediately turned to Vincent.
“Can we trust her?”
“No,” I said.
Both men looked at me.
“But we can trust that she wants to survive.”
Vincent nodded.
“Useful distinction.”
Eight minutes later, Bianca walked into my nursery and removed a device from behind the rocking chair.
Then another from beneath the window bench.
Then she disappeared from camera.
Nico paced.
At exactly ten minutes, the kitchen feed shook violently.
Gunshot.
I flinched.
Nico moved toward the screen.
Teresa screamed.
Then Bianca stumbled into view, one hand pressed to her shoulder.
Matteo followed.
He hit her across the face.
“You stupid—”
The sound cut out.
The camera went black.
Nico grabbed his gun.
This time I didn't stop him.
Vincent's men were already moving.
So were three detectives the Morettis had worked with through Gerald Shaw.
I stayed behind with Lila and an armed nurse.
That was the deal.
Nico kissed Lila before he left.
Then he looked at me.
For half a second, I thought he might kiss me too.
He didn't.
“Bring your mother home,” I said.
He nodded.
“I will.”
“And Nico?”
He stopped at the door.
“Don't die trying to prove you love us.”
His face changed.
“Come back and prove it tomorrow.”
He left.
The next forty minutes were the longest of my life.
Vincent's updates came in fragments.
Building entered.
Device recovered.
Teresa alive.
Bianca wounded.
Matteo escaped through service stairwell.
Then silence.
Too much silence.
Finally Nico called.
I answered before the first ring finished.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother?”
“Angry.”
I laughed through tears.
“Good.”
“Bianca?”
“Alive.”
“And Matteo?”
“Gone.”
I closed my eyes.
“How?”
“Tunnel access through the parking garage. He planned it.”
Of course he did.
Nico's voice lowered.
“He left something behind.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
My skin prickled.
“Of what?”
“You.”
I looked down at Lila.
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
I frowned.
“I didn't know Matteo seven years ago.”
“I did.”
Nico went quiet.
Then said, “Ava, the photograph was taken the night we met.”
I remembered it perfectly.
A charity dinner in Manhattan.
I spilled champagne on Nico's sleeve.
He told me it was the most expensive introduction of his life.
“What about it?”
“Matteo is in the background.”
“So?”
“He was watching you.”
My stomach tightened.
“Nico.”
“There is writing on the back.”
“What does it say?”
He hesitated.
Then read it.
“**She was never supposed to become family.**”
The room went cold.
This had not begun with Lila.
It had not begun with the trust.
It had not even begun with my pregnancy.
Matteo had been watching me from the first night Nico looked at me differently.
The question wasn't why he wanted Lila's inheritance.
The question was why he had cared about me before there was any inheritance to steal.
Vincent found the answer two hours later.
My mother had not merely protected the Moretti trust.
When she left Vittorio's organization twenty years earlier, she took something with her.
A ledger.
One that proved Matteo's mother, Francesca Moretti, had not died in a car accident like the family believed.
May you like
She had been murdered.
And the man who ordered it had been Matteo's own father.
