Chapter 5 - The Woman Behind the False NameWe found Clara two hours later.
Not at a safe house.
Not hiding.
She was sitting inside the old chapel at the edge of the city.
Alone.
Waiting.
Gabriel was with her.
The moment I saw him, my knees nearly gave out.
He was sleeping peacefully in her arms.
Dante entered first, weapon drawn.
“Put my son down.”
Clara looked at him.
“I didn't hurt him.”
“Then explain yourself.”
She stood slowly.
“I saved him.”
Dante's voice became ice.
“You kidnapped him.”
“I took him because your house wasn't safe.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because the men who attacked tonight weren't trying to kill Elina.”
I froze.
“They were trying to capture her.”
Dante's grip tightened around his gun.
“Why?”
Clara looked at me.
“Because they need her alive.”
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“The same people who took Isabella.”
I stepped forward.
“Tell me about my sister.”
Clara looked at me for a long moment.
Then she said something that made my heart ache.
“You two were inseparable.”
A memory flickered.
Two little girls running through a garden.
One laughing.
One crying.
Hands locked together.
Then darkness.
Clara continued.
“Your mother was terrified after you were born.”
“Why?”
“Because your father owed Carlo Moretti a debt.”
Dante stiffened.
“My father?”
“Your father was not innocent,” Clara said. “He had stolen money.”
Dante stared at her.
“You're saying my father controlled the Valdez family?”
“I am saying he controlled their debts.”
My stomach turned.
“How did I get separated from Isabella?”
Clara looked at Gabriel.
“Because Carlo believed one child was leverage.”
“For what?”
“To control your father.”
I shook my head.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
She took a folded photograph from her coat.
It showed a hospital room.
Two babies.
Two bassinets.
One labeled Isabella.
The other labeled Elena.
I stared.
Then I noticed something.
The second bassinet had been crossed out.
A man's handwriting appeared beneath it.
Transfer to Moretti custody.
I looked at Dante.
“Your father took me.”
Clara nodded.
“But he didn't raise you.”
“Who did?”
“Your mother.”
I blinked.
“That contradicts everything.”
“She got you back.”
“How?”
Clara hesitated.
“She made a deal.”
Dante stepped closer.
“What deal?”
Clara looked at him.
“She agreed to disappear from the Moretti family in exchange for both girls' lives.”
He stared.
“And did she keep her promise?”
Clara shook her head.
“She tried.”
“What happened?”
“Isabella stayed in the city.”
“And me?”
“You were moved to Santa Rosa.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why don't I remember any of this?”
Clara's voice softened.
“Because you were six.”
“My mother died when I was six.”
Clara nodded.
“She died the same year Isabella disappeared.”
I looked at Dante.
“That can't be coincidence.”
“No,” he said.
“It isn't.”
We brought Clara back to the estate.
For the first time, she told me everything.
When Isabella was sixteen, someone began sending photographs of us to the family.
When she turned eighteen, Carlo Moretti began searching for the missing twin.
Then Isabella met Dante.
They fell in love.
Carlo hated it.
Because Isabella knew too much.
And because she was the only person who could identify the financial network Carlo had built.
I looked at Dante.
“Your father killed my sister because she knew about his crimes.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“I believe so.”
“Then why did you marry her?”
“Because I loved her.”
The words came without hesitation.
I looked away.
He continued.
“She was the first person who ever made me want to become something other than my father.”
Something in his voice made me believe him.
Then Clara placed another file on the table.
“This is why Isabella was really killed.”
Inside was a photograph of a black ledger.
On the cover were three letters.
A.V.R.
Dante frowned.
“What is that?”
Clara whispered:
“Your father's secret account.”
I opened the file.
There was a list of names.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officers.
Bankers.
Businessmen.
Then I saw one name.
I knew him.
Everyone in Santa Rosa knew him.
My old landlord.
My hands went cold.
He had been paying my rent for six years.
I looked up.
“Why would he pay my rent?”
Dante stared at the page.
“Because your landlord wasn't helping you.”
He pointed to a note beside the man's name.
WATCH THE SURVIVING TWIN.
My heart stopped.
“I've been watched?”
“For twenty-four years.”
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Around three in the morning, I left my room.
I found Dante standing alone in the hallway.
“You knew someone was watching me.”
He looked at me.
“I suspected.”
“You let me live alone.”
“I didn't know where you were.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
He stepped closer.
“I found you three weeks ago.”
I blinked.
“Three weeks?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
He pulled out his phone.
A photograph appeared.
It was me entering the restaurant.
Three weeks earlier.
Someone had circled my face in red.
Across the image were five words.
Confirm identity. Do not kill.
I looked up.
“Who sent it?”
Dante's face went cold.
“I know the sender.”
“Who?”
May you like
He stared at the screen.
“My mother.”
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