Chapter 9 - THE MAN WHO SERVED MY FATHER'S KILLER
The person who helped destroy my family had been walking through Cello Nero every Thursday night.
And I had probably served him coffee.
Detective Brooks arranged a secure meeting with Isabella.
She arrived wearing a plain black coat.
Her dark curls were tied back.
She looked nothing like the wealthy Moretti family photographs.
Just a frightened young woman trying to reclaim a life stolen from her.
When she saw me, she began crying.
"Natalya."
I hesitated.
Then hugged her.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Afterward, she placed a small folder on the table.
Inside were copies of financial records.
Photographs.
And a handwritten list of names.
One name stood out immediately.
Salvatore Greco.
Adrien's chief lieutenant.
The man everyone called S.
My stomach tightened.
"Salvatore?"
Isabella nodded.
"He worked for Arthur Henderson before joining Adrien."
I stared.
"He was at table twelve."
"I know."
"Did he arrange the meeting?"
"Partly."
Detective Brooks examined the documents.
"What's his role?"
Isabella took a breath.
"Salvatore helped Henderson track people who knew about the financial accounts."
My chest tightened.
"Viktor?"
She nodded.
"My father?"
"Yes."
I covered my mouth.
For seventeen years, I'd pictured unknown men in leather jackets.
Faceless criminals.
Now one of them might have been sitting beside me while I translated the Russians' threats.
I felt sick.
"Did he kill Dad?"
Isabella shook her head.
"I don't know."
That answer hurt.
But I appreciated that she didn't pretend.
Then she continued.
"There's something else. Salvatore has been manipulating Adrien's business records."
Detective Brooks looked up.
"Do you have evidence?"
Isabella nodded.
"Matteo recovered part of it."
My heart pounded.
"Where's Matteo?"
"He'll come forward when it's safe."
I looked away.
I was tired of secrets.
Tired of hidden identities.
Tired of people promising answers later.
Then Isabella reached for my hand.
"Natalya, your father saved me."
I looked up.
"When I was twelve, he helped Matteo move me away from the people searching for us."
My eyes filled.
"He carried me into a car and told me not to be afraid."
She smiled through tears.
"I remember his voice."
I began crying.
"He used to tell me stories."
Isabella nodded.
"He told me one too."
I stared.
"What story?"
"About a little girl who followed a silver star home."
My heart stopped.
My father's bedtime story.
The same story he'd told me every night before he disappeared.
I covered my mouth.
Isabella squeezed my hand.
"He said his daughter was the bravest little girl in the world."
I began sobbing.
For the first time in seventeen years, someone outside my family remembered my father as a living person.
Not a victim.
Not a name in a police file.
A kind man.
A father.
A friend.
Then Detective Brooks's phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
And slowly stood.
"What?"
My stomach tightened.
She ended the call.
"Adrien Moretti has requested a meeting with investigators."
Isabella went pale.
"Why?"
Brooks looked serious.
"He says he's discovered evidence that Salvatore has been stealing from his companies."
My heart pounded.
Then she added the detail that silenced the room.
"And Adrien says Salvatore left a message before disappearing."
I swallowed.
"What message?"
May you like
Brooks looked directly at me.
"Tell the Petersburg girl her mother is next."
