Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
“Mama.”
Vincent's voice was quieter than Daniel had ever heard it.
Isabella kept the pistol steady.
“Tell Daniel to leave.”
“No.”
“Vincent.”
“No one leaves.”
For several seconds, mother and son stared at each other across the basement doorway.
Vincent had faced federal prosecutors, rival crews, armed men, and politicians who smiled while planning his destruction.
Nothing had ever felt like this.
Because the woman holding the gun had once kissed his scraped knees and sat beside his bed when thunderstorms frightened him.
“Mara,” Vincent said carefully, “come down the stairs.”
Mara didn't move.
Isabella's mouth tightened.
“She stays where she is.”
Vincent stepped upward.
Isabella immediately raised the weapon.
Not toward him.
Toward Mara.
Daniel reached beneath his jacket.
“Don't,” Vincent warned.
Everyone froze.
Then Mara suddenly spoke.
“My mother's name was Sarah Bennett.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
Only for a second.
But Vincent saw it.
Recognition.
“What was she to my father?” he asked.
Mara swallowed.
“She worked here.”
“When?”
“Twenty-eight years ago.”
Vincent stared at his mother.
Isabella lowered the gun slightly.
“That girl is lying.”
Mara gave another broken laugh.
“That's what you told my mother too.”
Silence.
Vincent climbed the remaining steps and placed himself between them.
“If you're going to point that gun,” he told Isabella, “point it at me.”
Something flickered across his mother's face.
Pain.
Then anger replaced it.
“You have no idea what you're protecting.”
“Then tell me.”
Isabella's hand trembled.
For the first time in Vincent's life, his mother looked old.
“Your father made mistakes.”
“What kind?”
“The kind powerful men always call mistakes because the truth sounds uglier.”
Mara stared at her.
“My mother was seventeen.”
Vincent felt the air leave his lungs.
Daniel looked down.
Isabella said nothing.
Mara continued.
“She came here because her father owed money. She cleaned rooms. Served meals. Slept in the servants' wing.”
Vincent's voice became dangerously flat.
“And my father?”
Mara's eyes met his.
“He got her pregnant.”
The basement seemed to shrink around them.
Vincent remembered his father as many things: ruthless, controlling, brilliant, sometimes cruel.
But this was different.
“Why didn't she go to the police?”
“She tried to leave.”
Mara pointed toward the cellar.
“They kept her down there.”
Vincent slowly turned toward his mother.
Isabella's face crumpled for half a second before the mask returned.
“You weren't there,” she said.
“No,” Mara answered. “But my mother was.”
“Your mother was sick.”
“My mother was terrified.”
“She threatened this family.”
“She was a teenager!”
Isabella flinched.
Vincent held up a hand.
“Enough.”
He turned toward Mara.
“How did you get into this house?”
“I applied for the maid position.”
“Why?”
“To prove what happened.”
“And the bruises?”
Mara looked toward Isabella.
Vincent followed her gaze.
His entire body went rigid.
“No,” Isabella said immediately. “I never touched her.”
Mara shook her head.
“She didn't.”
Vincent frowned.
“Then who did?”
Mara hesitated.
That hesitation frightened him.
Before she could answer, Daniel's radio crackled.
A guard's panicked voice filled the basement.
“Mr. Russo, we have a problem at the north gate.”
Daniel grabbed the radio.
“What problem?”
“We found a car trying to leave.”
Vincent looked at Mara.
“Who?”
Static.
Then the guard answered.
“Your brother, sir.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
Anthony Moretti.
His younger brother.
“Stop him.”
“We did.”
Another pause.
“But there's something in his trunk.”
Vincent closed his eyes for a moment.
“What?”
The guard's voice dropped.
“A suitcase full of surveillance equipment.”
Mara began crying.
Not softly this time.
Vincent turned toward her.
“Mara.”
She backed away.
“No.”
“What aren't you telling me?”
Her eyes locked onto his.
When she finally spoke, the words changed everything.
“Anthony isn't trying to escape because you caught him watching me.”
May you like
She shook her head.
“He's trying to escape because last night I found proof that Sarah Bennett wasn't the only girl your father kept in that cellar.”
