Chapter 12 - THE WOMAN WHO HAD BEEN WATCHING FROM AFAR
Vincent survived the gunshot.
Barely.
He was taken into custody from the hospital.
Gallo was arrested.
The vault evidence triggered investigations across Chicago.
Officials resigned.
Businesses were raided.
Old cases reopened.
But I cared about only one thing.
My mother.
Sofia Rossi.
Alive.
Vincent told us she had escaped years earlier.
He'd searched for her.
Failed.
Then stopped caring when he believed she posed no threat.
Salvatore knew more.
He admitted it from his hospital room.
“She lives in Wisconsin.”
I stared at him.
“You knew?”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Anger burned through me.
“How many people were planning to tell me eventually?”
“Isabella—”
“No.”
He stopped.
“You don't get to explain it away.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“Good.”
He looked older suddenly.
Smaller.
“I was afraid she'd reject me if I brought danger back into her life.”
“And somehow you made that decision for both of us.”
“Yes.”
At least he didn't lie.
Alessandro stood quietly beside the window.
He'd learned something over the past weeks.
Sometimes loving someone meant not speaking for them.
I appreciated that.
We drove to Wisconsin the next morning.
A small town near Lake Geneva.
A white farmhouse.
Blue shutters.
A garden filled with lavender.
My heart pounded as I walked toward the porch.
A woman opened the door before I knocked.
She had gray streaks in her dark hair.
Green eyes.
My eyes.
She covered her mouth.
“Isabella.”
I couldn't move.
For twenty-eight years, I'd imagined my mother as a memory.
A photograph.
A story.
Now she stood ten feet away.
Alive.
“I don't know what to say.”
She began crying.
“Neither do I.”
I stepped forward.
She opened her arms.
For one second, I hesitated.
Then I fell into them.
She smelled like lavender.
I cried against her shoulder.
She cried into my hair.
Neither of us apologized for how long it took.
Later, sitting at her kitchen table, she told me the truth.
After Vincent attacked her, she became pregnant.
She didn't know whether the baby belonged to Vincent or Salvatore.
Carlo helped her escape.
When I was born, threats began immediately.
Giovanni offered to raise me as his daughter.
Sofia resisted.
Then someone tried to kill her.
She disappeared to keep me safe.
“I watched you from a distance,” she whispered.
“Why didn't you come back after Vincent disappeared?”
“I thought he was still watching.”
“He was.”
She nodded.
“And every year, I told myself I'd wait one more year.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Then one year became twenty-eight.”
I held her hand.
“I don't know how to forgive that yet.”
“You shouldn't have to today.”
The honesty helped.
Alessandro waited outside during most of the conversation.
When I finally joined him on the porch, he handed me coffee.
“How are you?”
“Terrible.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
“And relieved.”
“Also fair.”
I leaned against the railing.
“My entire life is different.”
He looked at me.
“Some things aren't.”
“Like what?”
“Marco is still your brother.”
I smiled.
“Cousin.”
“He calls you every four hours.”
“Brother.”
“Exactly.”
I laughed softly.
Then I looked at Alessandro.
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Who are you now?”
His smile faded.
“I've been asking myself that.”
The criminal organization he'd inherited was collapsing under investigation.
He'd begun cooperating with federal authorities.
Some people called him weak.
Others called him a traitor.
I called it courage.
He looked at me.
“I don't know what happens next.”
I swallowed.
“Neither do I.”
Then he reached for my hand.
Slowly.
Giving me time to move away.
I didn't.
His fingers closed around mine.
For the first time, the gesture wasn't dangerous.
It felt safe.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“Marco collapsed.”
Everything inside me froze.
“What happened?”
Alessandro listened.
May you like
Then said the words I feared most.
“They think the poison damaged his heart.”
