Chapter 4 - The Uncle Who Came Too EarlyVictor Castellano looked like a man who had never rushed for anything in his life.
Not because she knew many rich people.
She didn’t.
But when she worked catering gigs, she noticed something about expensive homes: they were always too quiet.
No neighbor’s television through the wall.
No radiator banging.
No footsteps overhead.
Money apparently bought silence.
The Castellano estate had enough silence to make her skin crawl.
Two armed guards stood beside the grand staircase while Marco paced in the marble foyer.
“We have a team at her apartment.”
Mina crossed her arms.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“You can say that all night. It isn’t becoming more convincing.”
“They could still be there.”
“Then your terrifying collection of suit models can handle them.”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
Evelyn sat nearby while a private doctor stitched the wound beneath her shoulder.
She had changed into a dark robe.
Without the blood and rain, she looked exactly like what Mina now knew she was.
Powerful.
Elegant.
Untouchable.
Except somebody had touched her tonight.
Someone had nearly taken her.
That seemed to frighten everyone more than the actual wound.
Marco ended the call.
“The apartment is clear.”
Mina reached for her coat.
“But it’s been searched.”
She stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“Furniture overturned. Mattress cut open. Closets emptied.”
“My box?”
“We don’t know.”
“I’m going.”
This time Evelyn stood.
“I’m coming with you.”
Marco looked like he wanted to argue with both of them.
Instead he said, “Ten men.”
Mina lifted a brow.
“To retrieve a cardboard box?”
“To keep both of you alive.”
Thirty minutes later, Mina stood inside the wreckage of her apartment.
Her stomach twisted.
The sofa cushions were sliced.
Cabinet doors hung open.
The few framed photos she owned had been smashed.
Her mother’s favorite ceramic bird lay broken beside the refrigerator.
Mina picked up one of the pieces.
For eleven years, she had protected the tiny scraps of Anna Jenkins that remained.
A recipe card.
A scarf.
A photo from the county fair.
A birthday card signed Love you bigger than the sky.
Whoever had come here treated those memories like trash.
“Mina.”
Evelyn’s voice softened behind her.
“Don’t.”
Mina didn’t turn.
“If you apologize right now, I’m going to scream.”
“I wasn’t going to apologize.”
“Good.”
“I was going to help you find the box.”
Mina took a breath.
Then she walked toward the bedroom.
Her bed had been flipped.
The floorboards beneath it appeared untouched.
She knelt.
Marco watched.
“What?”
“My mother didn’t trust banks.”
Mina pulled a butter knife from the nightstand and wedged it beneath the edge of a floorboard.
Marco almost smiled.
“You have a hiding place.”
“My mother had a hiding place.”
The board lifted.
Beneath it sat a metal lockbox.
Mina exhaled.
“Got you.”
She pulled it free.
Evelyn’s face changed.
The box was painted blue.
A faded white daisy decorated the lid.
“You know it.”
Evelyn sat slowly on the edge of the overturned mattress.
“I gave that to Anna when she turned fourteen.”
Mina looked at her.
For the first time, belief came.
Not complete belief.
But enough to hurt.
She opened the box.
Inside lay letters tied with ribbon.
Photos.
An old newspaper clipping.
A small velvet pouch.
And a sealed envelope.
On the front, in her mother’s handwriting, were four words.
FOR MINA — WHEN THEY FIND YOU.
Nobody spoke.
Marco closed the bedroom door.
Mina’s fingers trembled as she opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter.
She recognized the handwriting immediately.
Her mother’s loops.
Her uneven capital M.
Mina sat on the floor.
She began to read.
My sweet girl,
If you are reading this, then either I found enough courage to tell you everything, or someone else found you before I could.
You deserve the truth.
Your name was not always Mina Jenkins.
You were born Marina Anna Castellano.
Mina stopped.
Her vision blurred.
Evelyn covered her mouth.
Mina kept reading.
Your father was Gabriel Castellano.
Mina looked up.
Evelyn’s face had drained of color.
“Who is Gabriel?”
Marco turned away.
Evelyn whispered, “My son.”
Mina’s heart pounded.
“You’re saying my mother had a child with her brother?”
“No!”
The word came sharply.
Evelyn stood despite her injury.
“No. Gabriel was not Anna’s brother by blood.”
Mina stared.
“What?”
“My husband and I adopted Anna when she was four.”
The room seemed to shift.
“She was still your daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And she married your son?”
“They fell in love before we understood how deeply. They were young. Gabriel was twenty-three. Anna was twenty-one.”
Mina looked back at the letter.
Her father’s name was Gabriel Castellano.
She had spent her entire life believing her father was a man named Michael Jenkins who died before she was born.
Another lie.
“What happened to Gabriel?”
Nobody answered.
Mina looked at Marco.
His expression said he knew.
“Tell me.”
Evelyn’s voice was quiet.
“He was murdered.”
The word froze everything.
“When?”
“When you were six months old.”
Mina gripped the letter.
“By who?”
“We never proved it.”
“Try.”
Evelyn looked toward the rain-smeared window.
“There was a war inside the family.”
Mina laughed bitterly.
“You mean criminals fighting criminals.”
“It was more complicated.”
“It always is when rich people explain terrible things.”
Marco stepped forward.
“Your father wanted out.”
Mina looked at him.
“He had discovered money was being moved through charities. Millions. People were stealing from the family businesses and using Gabriel’s name to do it.”
“What businesses?”
“Construction. Shipping. Real estate.”
“Legal?”
Marco hesitated.
“Mostly.”
Mina gave him a look.
“Wonderful.”
Evelyn continued.
“Gabriel collected records. Names. Accounts. He was going to expose the people responsible.”
“And somebody killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Then my mother ran.”
“Yes.”
“Because she thought whoever killed Gabriel would kill me.”
Evelyn’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Mina looked down at the letter.
There were several paragraphs remaining.
Then one sentence stopped her heart.
I know who killed your father.
Mina read it twice.
She slowly raised her eyes.
“My mother knew.”
Marco stepped closer.
“What does it say?”
Mina continued.
But knowing and proving are different things. Gabriel left evidence. I hid the key where only my daughter could find it.
Beneath the writing was a small drawing.
A coffee cup.
Mina stared at it.
The Midnight Cup.
“No.”
Evelyn leaned closer.
“What?”
“My mother worked at the café before me.”
Marco looked toward her.
“For how long?”
“Years.”
“Did she own anything there?”
“No.”
Mina thought.
Then remembered.
The wall behind the espresso machine.
A carved wooden plaque.
MIDNIGHT CUP — EST. 1984.
Her mother had once told her never to let Dennis remove it.
Mina stood abruptly.
“We have to go back.”
Marco shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“The key is at the café.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know my mother.”
“You were eight when she disappeared.”
“I knew her.”
Marco’s expression softened, but only slightly.
Before he could answer, one of the guards entered.
“Mr. DeLuca.”
Marco turned.
“There’s a visitor at the gate.”
“At four in the morning?”
“He insists Mrs. Castellano will see him.”
“Name?”
The guard hesitated.
“Victor Castellano.”
Evelyn went completely still.
Mina looked between them.
“Who is that?”
Marco muttered a curse.
Evelyn’s voice was barely audible.
“My younger son.”
Mina absorbed that.
Then realized something.
“If Gabriel was your son…”
“Yes.”
“Then Victor was his brother.”
“Yes.”
“So he’s my uncle.”
Evelyn looked afraid now.
Not merely cautious.
Afraid.
The guard spoke again.
“He says he heard Evelyn was attacked.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed.
“That information hasn’t left this house.”
Silence.
Mina felt the pieces rearrange themselves.
Someone had attacked Evelyn.
Someone had searched Mina’s apartment.
Someone knew secrets they should not know.
And now a man connected directly to her murdered father had appeared at the gates before sunrise.
Mina looked toward the letter.
Her mother had drawn a coffee cup.
But beneath it, in smaller handwriting, was one final warning.
Never trust the man who wears Gabriel’s watch.
The front doors opened downstairs.
A deep male voice echoed through the mansion.
“Mother?”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Marco reached beneath his jacket.
Mina turned toward the staircase.
Victor Castellano entered the foyer wearing a black overcoat.
Silver hair.
Calm smile.
May you like
And on his left wrist was an old gold watch.
Evelyn whispered, “Gabriel’s watch.”
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