Chapter 7 - THE SECRET MY MOTHER DIED KEEPING
The ledger wasn't financial.
Not really.
It was a record of favors.
Payments.
Threats.
Bribes.
Deaths disguised as accidents.
My mother had copied sections before leaving Vittorio Moretti's employment.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Stefano Greco.
Matteo's father.
Vincent explained it from a chair across from my hospital bed while dawn broke somewhere above the underground medical suite.
“Stefano married Francesca Moretti because Vittorio wanted peace with the Grecos.”
I shifted Lila against my shoulder.
“And then killed her?”
“According to your mother's records.”
“Why?”
Nico stood near the wall.
He looked exhausted.
“Francesca discovered Stefano was stealing from both families.”
I almost laughed.
“Everybody in this family steals from everybody.”
Vincent grimaced.
“Historically accurate.”
Nico continued.
“She planned to leave him and tell Vittorio.”
“So he killed her.”
“Yes.”
“And Matteo knows?”
“We don't know.”
I stared at the photograph Matteo had left.
Me at twenty-six.
Laughing.
Nico beside me, looking at me in a way I hadn't noticed until years later.
Matteo in the background.
Watching.
“Why would that make him interested in me?”
Vincent answered.
“Because Evelyn was the only surviving person who knew the truth.”
“My mother.”
“Yes.”
“She never testified.”
“No.”
“She never told me.”
“No.”
“Then why care about me?”
Nico looked at me.
“Insurance.”
The word made me sick.
“If your mother ever released the ledger, Matteo could use you to control her.”
“But she died.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“Then you became pregnant.”
I looked at Lila.
“And suddenly I mattered again.”
“More than ever.”
Because my daughter inherited voting control over the same businesses Stefano Greco had once tried to steal.
History repeating itself.
Except this time, Matteo planned to win.
“Where's the ledger?”
Vincent shook his head.
“We don't know.”
“Matteo thinks I do.”
“Yes.”
I looked at the cream envelope in my lap.
“We should open this.”
Nobody argued.
The wax cracked beneath my thumb.
Inside were two sheets.
The first was a notarized authentication certificate for Vittorio's trust.
The second was a handwritten letter.
Not from Vittorio.
From my mother.
My hands started shaking before I finished the first sentence.
Ava, if you are reading this, then you have had a child with Nico Moretti, which means you ignored several excellent lectures I gave you about dangerous men.
A laugh broke through my tears.
That was her.
Exactly her.
I kept reading.
I hope he became worthy of you. If he did not, remember that loving someone is not the same as owing them your life.
Nico looked away.
I continued silently for a moment.
Then reached the part that mattered.
The Moretti trust key is enclosed because Vittorio believed the legitimate businesses should eventually belong to a generation that did not build them through fear. He trusted you before he knew you because he trusted me. I am sorry for that burden.
My throat closed.
At the bottom:
If anyone named Greco ever asks you about my records, the blue book is where you kept your first secret from me.
I stared at the sentence.
Vincent leaned forward.
“What does it mean?”
I knew instantly.
“My childhood bedroom.”
Nico looked at me.
“What secret?”
I almost smiled.
“When I was fifteen, I dated a boy named Aaron.”
Nico's expression hardened absurdly.
I stared at him.
“Really?”
He cleared his throat.
“Continue.”
“My mother hated him.”
“Smart woman.”
“Nico.”
Vincent rubbed his forehead.
I continued.
“I hid Aaron's letters inside a hollowed-out copy of The Blue Castle.”
“The blue book.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it now?”
“My mother kept my childhood room exactly the same until she died.”
Nico was already moving.
I grabbed his hand.
“No.”
He stopped.
“You are not going alone.”
“Ava.”
“Vincent goes.”
Vincent looked offended.
“Why am I volunteering?”
“Because Matteo expects Nico.”
Nico's expression said he hated this.
I squeezed his hand.
“Listen.”
He did.
Vincent went with two detectives and four men nobody from Matteo's old security network knew.
The house had been empty since my mother's death.
I couldn't bring myself to sell it.
At 10:42 a.m., Vincent called.
“We found the book.”
My heart stopped.
“And?”
“Ledger is inside.”
Nico exhaled.
“Bring it here.”
Vincent didn't answer.
“Vincent?”
A gunshot cracked through the phone.
Then shouting.
The call died.
Nico was out the door before I could speak.
This time, I didn't try to stop him.
Matteo had found the house.
Whether he followed Vincent or already knew didn't matter.
The final secret was there.
And whoever left with it would control the truth.
For twenty-three minutes, I heard nothing.
Then my own phone rang.
Matteo.
I stared at Nico's empty chair.
Then answered.
“Where is Vincent?”
“Alive.”
“Where is Nico?”
A pause.
“Also alive.”
My stomach dropped.
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“The ledger.”
“I have the ledger.”
I froze.
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because your mother was clever.”
He sounded angry now.
“She removed six pages.”
I looked at her letter again.
No mention of pages.
“I don't know where they are.”
“I believe you.”
That scared me more.
“Then what?”
“I want Nico to sign away his control.”
I laughed.
“You've been trying to get his empire your whole life.”
“It was supposed to be mine.”
“No. That's what men tell themselves when they want to steal something.”
His breathing changed.
I continued.
“Your mother was a Moretti. That doesn't make every Moretti asset yours.”
“My mother was murdered because Vittorio valued power more than his daughter.”
“Your father murdered her.”
Silence.
Absolute.
I knew instantly.
He didn't know.
“Who told you that?”
“My mother left records.”
“You're lying.”
“Stefano Greco ordered the crash.”
“Stop.”
“Francesca discovered he was stealing.”
“Stop.”
“He killed her before she could tell Vittorio.”
“STOP!”
The shout exploded through the phone.
Lila startled and began crying.
I held her close.
Matteo's breathing sounded broken.
Then quieter.
“Where are the pages?”
“I don't know.”
“You will find them.”
“No.”
“Ava.”
“No.”
I looked down at my daughter.
“I spent seven years adjusting my life around dangerous men who thought they could decide what I was allowed to know.”
My voice steadied.
“I am done.”
Matteo laughed softly.
“You sound brave from a hospital.”
“I was brave when I gave birth alone.”
Silence.
Then he said, “Come to your mother's house.”
“No.”
“If you want Nico alive.”
Everything inside me stopped.
I looked toward the locked door.
“What did you do?”
“He arrived exactly where I expected.”
Of course he did.
Predictable when someone he loved was threatened.
I closed my eyes.
“Let me speak to him.”
Static.
Then Nico's voice.
“Ava.”
“Nico.”
“Do not come here.”
My eyes filled.
“Are you hurt?”
“Do not come.”
“Answer me.”
A pause.
“Shoulder.”
“Shot?”
“Yes.”
I stood too quickly.
Pain tore through me.
Nico heard my breath catch.
“No.”
His voice hardened.
“Stay with Lila.”
Matteo took the phone back.
“One hour.”
The call ended.
I looked at my daughter.
Then at my mother's letter.
For the first time, I understood what she had meant.
Loving someone was not the same as owing them your life.
But it also didn't mean abandoning them when fear arrived.
I called the police detective Vincent trusted.
Then Gerald Shaw.
Then Teresa.
I did not call Moretti security.
And I did not tell Matteo I was coming.
May you like
Because I wasn't going to give him the ending he expected.
For once, the dangerous men could follow my plan.
