Chapter 8 - The Wife Who Came Home From the Dead
They reached the Moretti townhouse in twelve minutes.
Rico entered first.
“Elena!”
His voice thundered through the marble foyer.
No answer.
Leo broke free and ran toward the staircase.
“Mama!”
Clara chased him.
They found Elena upstairs in Leo’s bedroom.
She stood beside his bed wearing hospital clothes beneath a borrowed coat.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Rico appeared in the doorway.
The feared man who could stare down armed enemies without blinking suddenly looked incapable of taking another step.
“Elena?”
Her eyes filled.
“Rico.”
He crossed the room.
Then stopped inches from her, almost afraid she might disappear if he touched her.
“You’re alive.”
Elena raised a shaking hand and touched his face.
Rico closed his eyes.
Six months of grief cracked open at once.
He pulled her against him.
Leo wrapped himself around both their legs.
“Mama!”
Elena collapsed to her knees and hugged him.
Clara quietly turned away.
But Elena saw her.
“You.”
Clara looked back.
Elena stared at Rebecca’s locket around Clara’s fingers.
“You’re Rebecca’s daughter.”
Clara’s throat tightened.
“You knew my mother?”
“She saved me.”
Rico looked up.
“What happened?”
Elena’s joy vanished.
“Your uncle arranged the shooting.”
Silence.
“He didn’t want me dead,” she continued. “He wanted everyone to think I was dead.”
“Why?”
“Because I found records.”
“What records?”
“Money being moved through charities, hospitals, and construction companies. Millions. Salvatore has been stealing from the family for years.”
Rico’s jaw tightened.
“Why keep you alive?”
“Because he believed I knew where the original ledger was.”
Dante entered.
“We need to move. If Salvatore knows she escaped—”
“He already knows,” Elena whispered.
Everyone turned.
“He let me escape.”
Rico’s expression darkened.
“Why?”
Elena looked toward Clara.
“Because he wanted me to lead him to Rebecca’s daughter.”
Clara took a step backward.
“Me?”
Elena nodded.
“Your mother hid the ledger.”
“Where?”
Before Elena could answer, every light in the townhouse went out.
Leo screamed.
Emergency lighting flickered red.
Then the intercom crackled.
Salvatore’s voice filled the house.
“Welcome home, Elena.”
A pause.
“And hello, Clara.”
May you like
Clara’s blood ran cold.
“I’ve been waiting twenty-one years to meet you.”
