Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN NICO BELIEVED HAD ABANDONED HIM
Nico never spoke about his mother.
Not really.
Sometimes, after too much whiskey, he'd mention her piano playing.
Her dark curls.
The smell of orange blossoms in her garden.
Then his expression would shut down.
He told me Lucia Moretti abandoned him when he was eight.
He said she chose another man.
Another life.
And never looked back.
Now Evelyn was telling me that story might be a lie.
“Lucia disappeared twenty-seven years ago?” I asked.
Evelyn nodded.
“Your father was investigating suspicious payments when she vanished.”
My hands trembled.
“Was she killed?”
“We don't know.”
I stared at the photograph.
My father.
Nico's father.
Two men standing together.
One who disappeared.
One who built a criminal empire.
And somehow, my mother had kept the evidence hidden for decades.
Evelyn opened another folder.
“Daniel copied records before he vanished.”
“Where?”
“Your mother concealed them.”
I swallowed.
“Where?”
Evelyn looked at my duffel bag.
“Did you bring anything from your childhood?”
I frowned.
“Clothes. My laptop. A few photographs.”
“Anything your mother gave you?”
I thought about the small silver locket around my neck.
Mom had pressed it into my hand shortly before she died.
She'd told me to wear it when I felt alone.
I touched it.
“This.”
Evelyn leaned closer.
Her expression changed.
“May I see it?”
I hesitated.
Then removed the necklace.
The locket was shaped like a tiny heart.
One hinge had always been stiff.
Inside was a faded photograph of Mom holding me as a baby.
Evelyn examined the back.
Then carefully pressed a small indentation near the clasp.
A hidden panel opened.
My breath caught.
Inside was a tiny memory card.
I stared.
“All these years…”
Evelyn nodded.
“Your mother was very careful.”
We arranged for an independent forensic specialist to examine the card.
But before the appointment, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered cautiously.
A man's voice spoke.
“Hannah?”
My heart slammed.
Nico.
I nearly dropped the phone.
“Don't call me.”
“Hannah, please.”
His voice sounded rough.
Exhausted.
Nothing like the cold man who'd dismissed me the night before.
“How did you get this number?”
A pause.
Then he said, “Arthur found it through a contact.”
Anger flashed through me.
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
The admission surprised me.
I swallowed.
“What do you want?”
“To apologize.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You had three years.”
Silence.
Then Nico whispered:
“I know what I said.”
I closed my eyes.
“Good.”
“I didn't mean it.”
“But you said it.”
His breathing changed.
“Hannah…”
I looked toward my mother's letter.
Then asked a question that had suddenly become more important than our relationship.
“Nico, what really happened to your mother?”
The line went silent.
Then he said:
“Why are you asking?”
“Answer me.”
A long pause.
Finally, he whispered:
“My father told me she ran away.”
I closed my eyes.
Then Nico added something I'd never heard before.
“But two weeks ago, I found a letter suggesting she was taken.”
My heart stopped.
“Taken by whom?”
May you like
His voice became barely audible.
“By someone who worked for my father. A man named Daniel Bennett.”
