Chapter 10 - What Happened After Isabella Escaped

Carlo asked everyone to stay.

Even Anthony.

Especially Anthony.

The handwritten statement was dated eighteen years earlier.

Two days after Isabella escaped the house outside Albany.

Matteo read it aloud.

Not all at once.

Some sentences needed silence.

Carlo had arrived with two men.

He found Isabella injured.

Elena had already struck Anthony with the fireplace iron.

Victor arrived minutes later.

Carlo took Isabella outside.

Then returned.

Anthony was gone.

Victor said he had fallen near the stairs and left through the back door.

Carlo did not believe him.

So he searched.

Blood led to the garage.

There he found Anthony.

Alive.

Sitting beside the car.

And Thomas Vaughn standing over him.

Rebecca looked at Thomas.

“You were there.”

Thomas nodded.

Anthony stared at him.

“You.”

Thomas looked back.

“Yes.”

Carlo’s statement continued.

Thomas had discovered Anthony was preparing to move twenty-five million dollars and blame the missing money on him.

Thomas confronted him.

Anthony attacked him.

The fight continued into the garage.

The handgun belonged to Anthony.

He drew it.

Thomas knocked it away.

Carlo arrived seconds later.

No one fired.

The gun found under St. Agnes had never been used.

Matteo lowered the statement.

“Then why hide it?”

Carlo answered:

“Because it had Anthony’s fingerprints and Thomas’s blood.”

Anthony looked at Thomas.

“So you were the one who took the money.”

“Yes.”

“And you left me bleeding.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

Thomas looked at him.

“Because I am not you.”

Anthony said nothing.

Matteo kept reading.

Thomas took Anthony to a private doctor.

Then offered him a choice.

Prison.

Or exile.

Anthony chose exile.

The ten million transfer came later.

Not as ransom.

Not as payment.

It was money Anthony demanded in exchange for signing away control of several hidden companies.

Isabella had signed the authorization because the companies had been opened using her identity years earlier.

Anthony had lied about that too.

Rebecca looked at him.

“You came back because Elliot offered you Carlo.”

Anthony smiled faintly.

“Yes.”

“And because you thought the estate could be reopened.”

“Yes.”

“You never cared what happened to my mother.”

Anthony looked at Elena.

“No.”

Elena did not react.

Some truths had stopped hurting because too many others had come first.

Matteo continued reading.

Carlo and Thomas moved the twenty-five million to St. Agnes.

Carlo planned to turn over the financial records.

Then the corrupt federal contact warned Anthony.

The investigation collapsed.

Thomas disappeared.

Isabella disappeared.

Carlo stayed with Matteo for twelve more years.

Then another investigation began.

This time Elliot had started asking questions.

Carlo feared the old network would return.

So he staged his death.

It was not noble.

Carlo said that himself.

It was fear.

Fear dressed as protection.

Matteo reached the final paragraph.

He stopped.

Carlo said:

“Read it.”

Matteo did.

IF MATTEO EVER READS THIS, THEN I FAILED TO TELL HIM THE TRUTH WHILE I STILL HAD THE COURAGE TO LOOK HIM IN THE EYE.

I DID NOT LEAVE BECAUSE HE WAS WEAK.

I LEFT BECAUSE I WAS.

Matteo lowered the page.

No one spoke.

Then Isabella walked toward him.

“I’m sorry.”

Matteo looked at her.

“For which part?”

“All of it.”

He nodded once.

Not forgiveness.

Not yet.

But not rejection.

Rebecca stood beside Elena.

Thomas stood alone.

Victor’s attorneys were already discussing charges.

Elliot faced conspiracy, kidnapping, extortion, and several financial offenses.

Anthony faced older charges and new ones tied to his contact with Elliot.

Carlo agreed to cooperate.

So did Elena.

Thomas turned over the money.

Nearly sixty-two million dollars.

After courts and investigators finished tracing ownership, most of it would go into restitution, taxes, and civil claims.

The rest would not buy back eighteen years.

Nothing could.

Three weeks later, the charity ballroom at Matteo’s estate was empty.

No music.

No red gown.

No champagne.

Just sunlight through tall windows.

I was polishing the same table where Mr. Lawson had placed the hotel key.

Matteo walked in.

No tuxedo.

Black shirt.

Sleeves rolled up.

The dagger tattoo visible on his forearm.

“You’re still here.”

I smiled.

“I work here.”

He almost smiled back.

“Rebecca moved out.”

“I heard.”

“She and her mother are staying nearby.”

“How are they?”

“Learning how to talk.”

“And you?”

Matteo looked toward the garden.

“My mother wants breakfast tomorrow.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

He laughed.

A real one this time.

“My father has another meeting with investigators.”

“And after?”

“I don’t know.”

I set down the cloth.

“That might be new for you.”

“It is.”

Mr. Lawson entered through the open doors.

Still carrying a brown envelope.

Matteo saw it.

“No.”

The old lawyer smiled.

“This one is harmless.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s a deed.”

“To what?”

“The Montreal apartment your parents used.”

Matteo looked at him.

“Why would I want that?”

“Your mother doesn’t.”

“And my father?”

“He says sell it.”

Matteo took the envelope.

He stared at it for a moment.

Then handed it back.

“Sell it.”

Mr. Lawson nodded.

“What should I do with the money?”

Matteo looked at me.

Then toward the ballroom where the charity gala had begun all of this.

“Put it into Rebecca’s foundation.”

Mr. Lawson smiled.

“Anonymous?”

“Yes.”

Then Matteo changed his mind.

“No.”

The lawyer waited.

“Use my name.”

I looked at him.

Matteo shrugged.

“I think we’ve had enough anonymous things.”

Outside, a car stopped near the front steps.

Isabella got out.

Carlo was in the passenger seat.

They were not together.

Not like before.

But they had arrived in the same car.

That was enough for today.

Matteo watched them through the window.

His face tightened.

Then softened.

He walked toward the door.

Before he reached it, he looked back at me.

“Rachel.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for not escorting Lawson out.”

I smiled.

“Rebecca told me to.”

“I know.”

He opened the door.

His mother waited on one side of the steps.

His father on the other.

For eighteen years, Matteo had been given graves instead of answers.

Now the dead were standing in daylight.

Not forgiven.

Not forgotten.

Just alive.

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...

And for the first time, that was enough to begin.

If you enjoyed this story of buried identities, family betrayal, hidden inheritances, and secrets that refused to stay dead, keep reading for more suspenseful stories where one unexpected guest, one forgotten document, or one whispered confession can change an entire family forever.