Chapter 7 - THE UNCLE WHO BURIED MY MOTHER
Uncle Anthony had raised me almost as much as Laura had.
Birthday cards.
College loans.
Sunday dinners.
When my mother died, he held me while I cried.
Now Dante was telling me to stay away from him.
I hated Dante for being right.
We arranged the meeting at the restaurant.
Public.
Watched.
Orion came too.
Anthony saw the dog first.
His face lost color.
Then he saw Dante.
“Olivia.”
I sat across from him.
“Who was my mother?”
He closed his eyes.
“Laura.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He looked older suddenly.
“She was the bravest person I knew.”
“Did she steal me?”
“No.”
“Did she save me?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
The betrayal hurt.
“How long?”
“Since she brought you home.”
I stared.
Twenty-five years.
“You watched me search ancestry websites.”
“I know.”
“You watched me wonder about my father.”
“I know.”
“You lied every time.”
“I promised Laura.”
I laughed bitterly.
Everyone had promises.
Nobody had truth.
“Did you kill her?”
Anthony’s face broke.
“No.”
“Were you involved in the fire?”
“No.”
Orion growled.
Not loudly.
Anthony looked at him.
Then at me.
“He doesn’t believe me.”
“Neither do I.”
Anthony opened his jacket slowly.
Dante’s guards tensed.
He removed an envelope.
Laura’s handwriting.
For Olivia.
My hands trembled.
“She gave me this six months before she died.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“She told me to wait until Elena’s key resurfaced.”
“You knew about the key?”
“I knew it existed. Not where.”
The letter explained everything Laura could safely tell me.
She had worked for Vittorio’s household as a private nurse.
When Elena begged her to save a dying baby, Laura did.
She loved me from the first night.
“She never saw you as someone else’s child,” Anthony said.
“She saw you as hers.”
My tears fell.
Then I reached the part about the fire.
Laura had discovered that Antonio Moretti was searching for Olivia again.
She planned to move me.
Before she could, someone burned her house.
She survived the initial fire.
I stared.
“What?”
Anthony began crying.
“Laura didn’t die in the house.”
My breath stopped.
“She died at the hospital.”
“How?”
“Someone entered her room.”
Dante went still.
Anthony continued.
“They injected something into her IV.”
I covered my mouth.
“Murder.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Anthony looked at Dante.
“Marco Bellini.”
I stared.
“Senior?”
Anthony shook his head.
“No.”
Silence swallowed the restaurant.
Dante whispered:
“Marco?”
His security chief.
The younger Marco.
The man who had stood beside Dante for fifteen years.
Anthony nodded.
“Laura recognized him before she died.”
Dante’s face became unreadable.
Then Orion suddenly stood.
His ears went forward.
A low growl filled his chest.
Not toward Anthony.
Toward the kitchen.
Dante turned.
Marco Bellini stepped through the swinging doors.
Gun in hand.
May you like
And said:
“I was hoping he wouldn’t tell you that part.”
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