The Mafia Boss Watched His Maid for Eight Days. On the Ninth, His Mother Finally Ate.

Helena asked to hear the accusation herself.

In the sitting room, Dr. Santos read Marisa’s statement. Years earlier, Helena had learned where Marisa lived with Isabela and had passed the address to Augusto. A week later, Marisa lost her job and received a warning to leave the city.

Isabela faced Helena. “You knew where we were.”

“Yes.”

“You gave him our address.”

Helena nodded. “He told me Marisa had taken his child. I thought he was going to help.”

“You knew he’d already accused her of stealing.”

“I should have known better.”

Isabela stepped back. She had spent eight days wondering whether Helena held the answer to her past. Now she did, and it hurt more than she had expected.

Helena did not reach for her. “I can’t ask you to forgive me.”

“Good,” Isabela said. “Because I can’t do that tonight.”

She went into the garden. Dante followed a few minutes later but kept his distance.

“My mother was wrong,” he said.

“She was. My mother spent years looking over her shoulder because Helena trusted Augusto again.”

Dante looked toward the house. “I keep thinking about all the times Helena tried to tell me something was wrong. I was busy proving I could run the company. I let Vicente decide who could speak to her.”

Isabela sat on the low garden wall. “Then listen to her now.”

Dante’s phone rang. A company accountant had found the old accounts Helena mentioned. Vicente had transferred a large sum that morning and was trying to leave the country.

Rafael came outside. “We can give the records to the authorities tonight.”

“Do it,” Dante said.

Rafael hesitated. “There’s more. The company attorney found a document Augusto signed before he died.”

Dante took the scanned page.

Augusto had acknowledged Isabela as his daughter in private. He had also arranged for a share of his estate to be held for her. Vicente, as trustee, was required to tell her when she turned twenty-one.