Chapter 3 - MY MOTHER WAS NOT THE WOMAN WHO RAISED ME
The next morning, I learned that terror can survive daylight.
I sat at Austo’s breakfast table wearing borrowed jeans and a cream sweater while rain slid down the windows.
My wedding dress had been removed from the guest room.
Mrs. Vale said it was being cleaned.
I told her to burn it.
She almost smiled.
Austo entered ten minutes later.
No guards.
No dramatic entrance.
Just black trousers, a white shirt, and the same unreadable face.
I placed my father’s letter on the table.
“Tell me.”
He sat across from me.
“The woman you called your mother, Caterina Bellucci, gave birth to no children.”
I felt as though someone had struck me.
“That’s impossible.”
“It is documented.”
“She died when I was nine.”
“I know.”
“She raised me.”
“I know.”
“She was my mother.”
“She was.”
The distinction hurt.
Austo continued carefully.
“Biology does not erase love.”
I hated him for saying something reasonable.
“Then who gave birth to me?”
He looked toward the photograph I had brought downstairs.
“Sofia.”
The room disappeared.
I heard only the rain.
“No.”
“Veronica—”
“No.”
I stood.
“She disappeared twenty-two years ago.”
“Yes.”
“I’m twenty-two.”
“Yes.”
I pushed back from the table.
“What are you saying?”
“Sofia vanished days after giving birth.”
I gripped the chair.
“Why would Caterina raise me?”
“Because Sofia trusted her.”
“Why would my father let another woman’s child be called his?”
Austo’s expression darkened.
“Because you were useful.”
That word made me feel sick.
In my family, children were not people.
They were alliances waiting to mature.
A daughter with Sofia’s blood could connect family claims my father did not naturally possess.
My entire identity could have been built as a legal and political bridge.
“And Olindo?”
Austo nodded once.
“His family has been demanding a formal merger for years.”
My stomach turned.
“The wedding.”
“Would have sealed it.”
I sat back down because my legs were no longer reliable.
“Does Olindo know?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does my father know?”
“Everything.”
Of course.
Always everything.
I looked at Austo.
“And you?”
“Not everything.”
That was the first uncertainty I had heard from him.
It made me trust him more.
Then Tobaya entered without knocking.
His expression was unusually hard.
“Sir.”
Austo stood.
“What?”
“We intercepted Bellucci traffic.”
My chest tightened.
“My father?”
Tobaya looked at me before answering.
“They aren’t searching the city anymore.”
Austo’s face changed.
“Where are they going?”
Tobaya hesitated.
“Here.”
I felt cold.
“How did they find me?”
Tobaya placed something on the table.
My aunt Renata’s wedding bracelet.
May you like
The one she had insisted I wear beneath my gloves.
Inside the clasp was a tracking device.
