Chapter 5 - The Bullet Meant for BellaHattie never remembered deciding to move.
That frightened Isabella more than anger would have.
He simply stood in the middle of her bedroom and looked at the pendant as if it contained a bullet meant for him.
“Elena said that?”
Isabella nodded.
His voice lowered.
“Exactly?”
“She said not to give it to you until I knew who betrayed us.”
Alessandro turned away.
Five years earlier, he had buried his wife believing an engine malfunction had killed her.
Now he understood why Elena had seemed distracted during the final weeks of her life.
Why she had changed passwords.
Why she had asked strange questions about financial accounts.
Why she had stared through the bedroom windows at night.
Hattie watched his hands curl into fists.
“You didn’t tell me because you thought I might have killed her.”
Isabella’s eyes filled with tears.
“I was sixteen.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I didn’t know!”
Her voice cracked.
“You knew everything. You controlled everyone. People were afraid of you. And then Mom died and you told me it was an accident.”
Alessandro faced her.
“It was what I believed.”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
He had no answer.
Hattie stepped between them emotionally if not physically.
“Whatever Elena meant, she wanted Isabella alive.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“And now somebody is trying to kill her.”
“Then arguing about five years ago can wait.”
His instincts resisted taking orders.
But he nodded.
They drove to the long-term care facility in Queens the following morning.
Lorraine Monroe was fifty-three.
Illness had thinned her face and silvered her hair, but when she saw Isabella, recognition appeared instantly.
“Oh my God.”
Isabella stopped beside the doorway.
“You remember me?”
Lorraine covered her mouth.
“Little Bella.”
The nickname broke something inside Isabella.
Nobody had called her that since Elena died.
She walked forward slowly.
Lorraine began crying.
“You look like your mother.”
Alessandro remained near the wall.
Lorraine saw him.
Her warmth vanished.
“So you finally came.”
Alessandro’s gaze sharpened.
“You expected me?”
“For five years.”
Hattie stared at her sister.
“Lorraine, what happened in that house?”
Lorraine looked at Isabella.
“Do you still have the necklace?”
Isabella pulled the pendant from beneath her shirt.
Lorraine exhaled.
“Thank God.”
Alessandro stepped closer.
“What do those numbers mean?”
“Not here.”
He frowned.
Lorraine lowered her voice.
“They watched Elena everywhere. They may still be watching Bella.”
Hattie glanced toward the hallway.
“Who?”
Lorraine looked directly at Alessandro.
“Your brother.”
The room went dead silent.
Alessandro’s younger brother, Vincent Ventresca, had served as his closest adviser for nineteen years.
He attended every family holiday.
He had carried Isabella on his shoulders when she was four.
He had delivered Elena’s eulogy.
“No,” Alessandro said.
Lorraine looked almost sorry for him.
“Elena discovered Vincent had been stealing from your organization.”
“How much?”
“Millions.”
“That wouldn’t make him kill her.”
“It wasn’t only money.”
Lorraine gripped the blanket.
“He was working with someone else.”
“Who?”
“I never knew.”
She looked at Hattie.
“Elena found ledgers connecting offshore companies to judges, police officers, construction contracts.”
Alessandro’s face became stone.
“What does this have to do with the necklace?”
“The numbers are coordinates and a safe-deposit code.”
Isabella whispered, “To what?”
“Evidence.”
Lorraine swallowed.
“The night before Elena died, she asked me to take Bella away.”
Isabella’s eyes widened.
“You were going to take me?”
“I tried.”
Lorraine began crying.
“But Vincent found out.”
Hattie moved beside her sister.
“What did he do?”
“He threatened you.”
Hattie froze.
“Me?”
“And our mother.”
Lorraine looked ashamed.
“He had photographs of your apartment. Your workplace. He said if I spoke, he’d kill both of you.”
Hattie sat down hard.
“For five years you let me think you abandoned that job.”
“I was protecting you.”
Tears slid down Lorraine’s face.
“I’m sorry.”
Hattie reached for her hand.
Isabella stood beside the window, shaken.
Alessandro spoke.
“Where is the evidence?”
Lorraine gave him an address.
An old storage facility in Newark.
Then she added, “Elena told me there was one more thing.”
“What?”
“If Vincent ever realized Isabella had the necklace, he would try to kill her in a way that looked accidental.”
Everyone thought of the pastry.
Alessandro pulled out his phone.
“Marco.”
He walked into the hallway.
Isabella sat beside Lorraine.
“Why was I horrible to everyone after Mom died?”
Lorraine smiled sadly.
“You weren’t horrible when I knew you.”
“I became horrible.”
“You became scared.”
Hattie looked at Isabella.
The same conclusion.
Fear wearing expensive clothes and sharp words.
Lorraine reached for Isabella’s hand.
“You were a sweet girl.”
Isabella looked down.
“I hurt people.”
“Then apologize.”
“What if they don’t forgive me?”
“Then apologize anyway.”
Outside the room, Alessandro returned.
His face had changed.
“Vincent’s gone.”
Isabella stood.
“What?”
“He left New York this morning.”
“Does he know?”
“I don’t know.”
Alessandro turned to Hattie.
“We need to go.”
But before they reached the elevator, every light in the hallway went out.
Emergency alarms began screaming.
Then came the unmistakable crack of gunfire from downstairs.
Alessandro grabbed Isabella and shoved her behind the nurses’ station.
“Stay down.”
Hattie crouched beside her.
Two armed guards rushed toward the stairwell.
Another gunshot echoed.
Isabella trembled.
Hattie wrapped both arms around her.
“Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Hattie held her face.
“Breathe.”
Isabella’s eyes locked on hers.
For the second time in days, Hattie became the only thing between Isabella and panic.
Then a man dressed as a hospital orderly appeared at the end of the hallway.
May you like
He raised a gun.
And aimed directly at Isabella.
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