Chapter 2 - The Woman Waiting in Paris

At six the next morning, Alessio Romano stood in the entrance hall with one suitcase.

No wife.

No security detail.

No white dinner jacket.

Only a black coat.

A tired face.

And the plane ticket Thomas Green had placed in his hand the night before.

I was carrying a silver tray when he said my name.

“Ava.”

I stopped.

“Yes, sir?”

“Thomas says you saw everything.”

“I did.”

“He also says he trusts you.”

That surprised me more than the invitation that followed.

“Come to Paris.”

I stared at him.

“Sir?”

“My mother asked Thomas to bring a witness.”

“Why me?”

“Because everyone in my family has lied to me.”

He looked toward the staircase.

“And you haven’t had time to start.”

Three hours later, we were on the plane.

Marcella never came downstairs.

She sent one message.

I’m sorry.

Alessio deleted it without answering.

Clara Romano was waiting in a private apartment near the Seine.

She was fifty-two.

Thin.

Elegant.

Gray beginning at her temples.

And when Alessio walked through the door, she covered her mouth with both hands.

Neither of them moved.

Twenty years disappeared from the room.

Alessio finally whispered:

“Mother?”

Clara started crying.

He crossed the room so quickly that the chair beside him fell over.

She held him like she was trying to recover every year at once.

“I’m sorry,” she kept saying.

Alessio said nothing.

He only held her.

When they finally sat down, Clara looked at me.

“You’re Ava?”

“Yes.”

“Thomas said you were there when he told him.”

I nodded.

Clara looked at her son.

“There are things I need to say in front of someone who is not a Romano and not a Marconi.”

Alessio’s jaw tightened.

“Start with the coffin.”

Clara closed her eyes.

“It was empty.”

“Why?”

“Because your grandfather put me on a train that same night.”

Alessio stared at her.

“You abandoned me?”

The question hurt more than anger would have.

Clara reached for his hand.

He pulled it away.

“No,” she said. “I was told you would die if I returned.”

“Who told you that?”

“My sister.”

“Marcella’s mother?”

“Yes.”

Clara stood and walked to a cabinet.

She removed a small wooden box.

Inside were letters.

Dozens of them.

Every envelope had the same name.

ALESSIO.

None had stamps.

“I wrote to you every birthday.”

Alessio picked up the first letter.

His hands shook.

“Why didn’t you send them?”

“Because every route I had back to you was watched.”

“By Elena?”

Clara nodded.

Elena Marconi.

Marcella’s mother.

Clara’s older sister.

Alessio looked toward the window.

“My father knew you were alive?”

Clara did not answer immediately.

That silence changed his face.

“He knew.”

“Yes.”

Alessio stood.

“All of you knew.”

“Your father helped me disappear.”

He stopped.

Clara continued.

“Luca did not want me dead. He wanted me hidden until he could expose Elena.”

Alessio turned.

“My father spent the rest of his life telling me you were dead.”

“He was protecting you badly.”

“That is still lying.”

“Yes.”

Clara accepted it without defending him.

Then she opened the wooden box again.

This time she removed a photograph.

Luca Romano stood beside Clara outside a train station.

The date was printed in the corner.

Eleven years ago.

Two days before Luca Romano supposedly died in a car accident.

Alessio stopped breathing for a moment.

“What was he doing here?”

“He came to bring me home.”

“Then why didn’t you come?”

Clara’s eyes filled again.

“Because he never made it back to Italy.”

Alessio looked at the photograph.

“My father didn’t die in the accident?”

Clara shook her head.

“The accident happened after he was already dead.”

Silence.

I felt cold despite the warm apartment.

Alessio’s voice became very quiet.

“Who killed him?”

Clara looked directly at her son.

“I can tell you who ordered it.”

He waited.

She said one name.

“Elena.”

Then she placed a brass key on the table.

It was old.

Heavy.

Covered in dark soil.

Alessio stared at it.

“What does that open?”

May you like

[COMPLETED] “GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY DRESS! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT AN OLD SEAM...

[COMPLETED] At the Mafia Boss's Engagement Party, I Served His Hungry So...

[COMPLETED] The Mafia Boss’s Fiancée Tried to Dismiss His Father’s Loyal...

Clara answered:

“The room beneath the greenhouse.”