Chapter 2 - ISABELLA’S LAST WARNING
Domenico read the sentence three times.
The words didn’t change.
His hands did.
They started shaking.
“Dad…”
Camilla stepped toward him.
He lifted one finger.
“Don’t.”
It came out colder than he intended.
Camilla stopped.
Marco was still on the floor.
Domenico kept reading.
Domenico,
I don’t know how much time I have.
Three months ago, I found records in the company accounts that didn’t make sense. Payments to shell contractors. Money transferred through companies that don’t exist. I asked Marco about them.
He told me I was confused.
I wasn’t.
I copied everything.
Domenico looked at Marco.
Marco’s face hardened.
“Keep reading,” he said bitterly. “Since you’ve already decided she’s some kind of saint.”
Domenico read on.
Marco came to see me two nights ago.
He told me to stop asking questions.
He said you built Russo Development from nothing and that men like you survive because other people handle the dirty work.
I told him I would tell you.
He said if I did, Camilla might grow up without a mother.
Domenico stopped breathing.
Camilla covered her mouth.
“No…”
Domenico kept reading.
If something happens to me, there is evidence.
The first piece is somewhere only you and I would remember.
Think about the night we almost burned down your father’s garage.
Trust no one who tells you to let this go.
Especially family.
I love you.
I love Camilla.
I’m sorry I was afraid.
— Isabella
The page slipped slightly in Domenico’s fingers.
His father’s garage.
He hadn’t thought about it in thirty years.
A workbench.
Old tools.
His first motorcycle.
And—
The red toolbox.
Isabella had knocked over a can of gasoline while helping him repair the bike.
One spark from an old space heater had nearly set the whole place on fire.
Afterward, his father had laughed until he cried.
The garage still existed.
Locked behind the old family house in Newark.
Domenico folded the letter carefully.
Then he looked at Camilla.
“How long did you know?”
She began crying.
Marco interrupted.
“She didn’t know anything.”
Domenico turned sharply.
“I didn’t ask you.”
Camilla wiped her face.
“Three months.”
The answer hurt more than he expected.
“You found this three months ago?”
“No. I found out about it three months ago.”
“How?”
She looked at Marco.
Domenico followed her eyes.
Marco slowly stood.
“Tell him,” he said.
Camilla shook her head.
Marco smiled without humor.
“Go ahead. You wanted truth. Give your father the truth.”
Domenico’s voice dropped.
“Camilla.”
She looked at him.
“Uncle Marco showed me a picture of the envelope.”
“Why?”
“He knew Mom had hidden something before she died.”
Domenico felt his chest tighten.
“He knew for nine years?”
Camilla nodded.
“He’d been looking for it.”
“And you?”
“He told me that if you ever found it, you’d go after him.”
Marco laughed.
“Because he would.”
Domenico ignored him.
Camilla continued.
“He said you’d destroy yourself trying to prove what happened to Mom. He said you’d end up in prison or dead.”
“So you helped him?”
“I tried to find the envelope first.”
The words landed hard.
Domenico stared at his daughter.
She stepped forward.
“I wasn’t going to give it to him.”
“Then what were you going to do?”
Camilla hesitated.
That hesitation told him everything.
“You were going to destroy it.”
“I was scared!”
“Your mother wrote this because she was scared!”
“I know!”
Her voice cracked.
Marco stepped between them.
“That’s enough.”
Domenico looked at him.
“You threatened my wife.”
Marco’s expression changed.
“I warned her.”
“About what?”
“About destroying this family.”
Domenico took one slow step toward him.
“You want to choose your next sentence very carefully.”
Marco stared at him.
Then his mouth curved into a strange, tired smile.
“You still don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
Marco glanced at the letter.
“Isabella didn’t hide that envelope because she was afraid of me.”
A pause.
“She hid it because she found out what you had done.”
Domenico’s eyes narrowed.
Marco reached into his jacket.
Camilla gasped.
But he didn’t pull a weapon.
He pulled out an old photograph.
He tossed it onto the table.
Domenico looked down.
The picture showed Isabella standing beside a black sedan.
Next to her was a man Domenico hadn’t seen in almost twenty years.
Federal investigator Daniel Mercer.
May you like
And on the back, written in Isabella’s handwriting, were four words.
Domenico must never know.
