Chapter 7 - THE DAUGHTER NO ONE WAS ALLOWED TO CLAIM
Matteo read Professor Bellini's statement three times.
Then a fourth.
His sister was alive.
She had a daughter.
And the father was someone he trusted.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Then he looked toward Carlo.
His longtime adviser.
The man who sat beside him at the restaurant.
The man who laughed when Matteo insulted my shoes.
Carlo's face went pale.
Matteo noticed immediately.
"Carlo."
The room became still.
Carlo swallowed.
"Matteo, listen."
My stomach dropped.
"You knew?"
Carlo looked toward me.
Then back at Matteo.
"I didn't know Lucia was alive until last year."
Matteo stepped closer.
"Answer the question."
Carlo lowered his head.
"Yes."
Matteo's expression changed.
Not rage.
Something worse.
Betrayal.
"You're the father?"
Carlo nodded.
The silence became unbearable.
Matteo closed his eyes.
For eleven years, he'd mourned his sister.
Carlo attended the memorial.
Comforted the family.
Helped investigate her disappearance.
And all that time, he had concealed their relationship.
Matteo looked at him.
"Why?"
Carlo's voice trembled.
"Because your grandfather would have killed me."
Matteo stared.
Carlo continued.
"Lucia and I were in love."
My chest tightened.
"She was seventeen," I said.
Carlo looked down.
"I was nineteen."
Matteo gripped the table.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
Carlo gave a broken laugh.
"Because you were loyal to your grandfather."
The words landed hard.
Matteo couldn't deny them.
Eleven years ago, he'd believed every decision the old man made.
He enforced family rules.
Protected the business.
And dismissed Lucia's complaints as childish rebellion.
Now he understood why she'd never trusted him.
Carlo continued.
"Lucia discovered the medical transfers. She tried to bring the evidence to you."
Matteo looked away.
"I remember."
"What happened?"
Matteo swallowed.
"I told her to stop interfering."
Carlo nodded.
"She came to me that night."
His eyes filled.
"She was terrified."
"And my mother helped her escape," I whispered.
"Yes."
Carlo looked toward me.
"Your mother saved Lucia's life."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
All those years.
All those sacrifices.
Mom had carried a secret that could have gotten us both killed.
Matteo sat down.
"What's the child's name?"
Carlo looked toward him.
"Isabella."
My heart softened.
"And how old is she?"
"Ten."
Matteo covered his face.
His niece.
Ten years old.
Living in Florence.
A child who'd never met her uncle because the adults surrounding her were too frightened to tell the truth.
Then Carlo said something unexpected.
"There's another reason I kept quiet."
Matteo looked up.
"What?"
Carlo reached into his jacket.
He removed a photograph.
A little girl with dark curls stood beside Lucia.
Behind them was a small Florence apartment.
Carlo turned it over.
A date was written on the back.
Two months earlier.
Matteo stared.
"You visited them?"
Carlo nodded.
"Yes."
"Without telling me?"
"Lucia begged me not to."
Matteo's jaw tightened.
Then Carlo lowered his voice.
"She said Domenico had finally found her."
The room went silent.
I looked toward the photograph.
My heart pounded.
Then Carlo whispered:
"And he told her he knew where Tessa Carter was working."
I stopped breathing.
Matteo slowly looked at me.
Carlo continued.
"Lucia said if she didn't return to New York, Domenico would kill Tessa."
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Then came the sentence that changed everything.
"That's why Lucia boarded a flight yesterday."
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