Chapter 7 - The Man Behind the CurtainRichard Vale did not run.
He walked.
Calmly.
He left St. Catherine Medical Center through the basement entrance wearing a nurse’s jacket.
Sophia was unconscious on a stretcher.
Two men pushed her toward a waiting van.
Richard checked his watch.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
Twelve years.
He had waited twelve years.
And Alessandro had finally found the first piece.
The child.
The woman.
The bloodline.
All of it was moving exactly where Richard wanted.
Meanwhile, Alessandro stood in the Moretti mansion with one hand clenched around Isabella’s diary.
“Where would he take her?”
Marco studied the map.
“Somewhere connected to the old Moretti properties.”
“List them.”
“Queens warehouse. Long Island estate. Brooklyn docks. The old casino.”
“No.”
Alessandro looked at the diary.
Richard had once written a note in the margin.
She knows about the house beneath the house.
Alessandro remembered something.
A property outside Manhattan.
A mansion his father had never used.
A place Alessandro had been forbidden to enter as a child.
The Blackwood Estate.
“Get the cars.”
Marco nodded.
Emma grabbed his sleeve.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“I have to find Mom.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“But you promised.”
Alessandro stared at her.
She was six.
And yet somehow she was the only person in the room who believed he could save everyone.
He picked her up.
“Stay with me.”
At Blackwood Estate, the front door was already open.
No guards.
No lights.
No movement.
Alessandro entered with his weapon drawn.
Marco followed.
Emma held his hand.
The mansion smelled of dust and old wood.
Then they heard a piano.
One note.
Then another.
Alessandro stopped.
He knew the melody.
Isabella used to play it.
“She’s here,” he whispered.
They entered the ballroom.
Richard sat at the piano.
Sophia lay unconscious on a sofa.
And behind Richard stood a woman.
Alessandro froze.
The woman turned.
Emma gasped.
Rosa had followed them without permission.
She stood behind Alessandro.
The woman was holding an old photograph.
She looked exactly like Isabella.
Alessandro’s gun lowered.
“No.”
The woman smiled sadly.
“Hello, little brother.”
Emma whispered:
“Auntie?”
Alessandro could not speak.
Richard stood.
“Welcome home.”
The woman looked at Emma.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Alessandro raised his weapon again.
“You’re dead.”
The woman’s expression hardened.
“Your father needed the world to believe that.”
“Why?”
“Because if anyone knew I survived, they would have killed my daughter.”
Emma stepped forward.
“Mommy isn’t my real mommy?”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“She is your mother in every way that matters.”
Sophia suddenly moved.
Her eyes opened.
She whispered one word.
“Run.”
May you like
Richard turned.
And the windows exploded.
