Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO HAD BEEN LOOKING FOR ELINA
Marco locked the restaurant.
Not because Luca ordered him to.
Because nobody inside could pretend dinner service mattered anymore.
The staff went home.
Elina remained at table six with Noah asleep in a carrier Luca’s bodyguard brought from the car.
Luca sat across from Marco.
Elina stood.
She did not want to sit.
Standing made it easier to breathe.
“Sofia came looking for me?”
Marco nodded.
“She showed me your photograph.”
Elina frowned.
“What photograph?”
“One from a community college graduation.”
Her stomach dropped.
She had graduated six years earlier.
“How did she get it?”
“She said she hired someone.”
Luca’s expression sharpened.
“She never told me.”
Marco looked at him carefully.
“She said she couldn’t.”
That hurt him.
Good.
Maybe secrets were not one-sided.
“What did she want?” Elina asked.
Marco reached beneath the bar.
Pulled out an envelope.
Old.
Cream-colored.
Unopened.
“Elina.”
Her name in handwriting she had never seen.
“She left this for you.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
Marco looked ashamed.
“She told me only if Luca ever came here with Noah.”
Luca frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
Marco pointed toward envelope.
Elina opened it.
Inside:
A photograph.
Two newborn girls.
Identical.
Hospital bassinets side by side.
Labels:
SOFIA.
ELENA.
Elina’s breath left her.
“No.”
Her name was Elina.
One letter different.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
Then handwritten note:
If you are reading this, Noah found you before I could.
Elina sat.
Luca’s hands clenched.
Sofia continued:
I believe you are my sister.
My twin.
I was told you died the day we were born.
I no longer believe that.
Elina stopped.
The room tilted.
Luca took one step toward her.
She raised her hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped immediately.
Good.
She read further.
Our mother’s name was Teresa Bellandi.
Our father was Antonio Bellandi.
The hospital records say one infant died.
But there is no death certificate.
No burial record.
No body release.
Nothing.
Elina’s mouth went dry.
She had spent her whole life believing her biological parents were unknown.
Her adoptive mother, Rosa Valdez, told her she had been abandoned at a church.
Maybe another lie.
Then:
I found an adoption file in Vermont under the name Elena Bell.
Changed six weeks after birth.
The birth date is ours.
Same hospital.
Same mother’s medical code.
Elina’s hands shook.
Luca whispered:
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
Elina looked at him.
“You keep asking that.”
He went silent.
Fair.
Then she reached final paragraph.
I did not contact you because someone was watching me.
Someone inside Luca’s family.
I was afraid if they knew I found you, they would hurt you too.
Luca’s face changed.
“Too?”
Elina read the last sentence.
If I die before I tell Luca the truth, ask him who controlled the Bellandi trust after our parents died.
Luca went pale.
Elina looked up.
“You know.”
He said nothing.
“Who?”
His voice came out rough.
“My uncle.”
“Name?”
May you like
“Matteo Moretti.”
And Matteo Moretti was the same man who had arranged Sofia and Luca’s marriage ten years earlier.
