The Cousin with the Smile
Chapter 04 - The Cousin with the Smile
Matteo denied everything.
He did it beautifully.
By the time Alessandro brought him into the library, he had already changed into a sweater and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He looked irritated rather than frightened, as if the entire accusation were an inconvenience before breakfast.
"Thomas Santos is a compulsive gambler and a documented liar."
Thomas sat near the fire with his ribs bandaged beneath a borrowed shirt.
"I am a gambler."
He looked at Isabella.
"And I've lied more times than I can count."
Then he looked back at Matteo.
"But I didn't sell her."
Matteo sipped his drink.
"Convenient."
Alessandro stood between them.
"Give me the drive."
Thomas handed it over.
Marco inserted it into a laptop that had been disconnected from the estate network.
Files appeared.
Hundreds.
Transfers.
Shipping manifests.
Photographs.
Isabella understood almost none of it.
Alessandro understood immediately.
His face emptied.
"These are internal Romano authorization codes."
Matteo set down his glass.
"Which could have been copied."
"They rotate every seventy-two hours."
"Then someone close to you is compromised."
Thomas gave a dry laugh.
"You mean besides you?"
Matteo crossed the room.
He moved so quickly Isabella did not see his fist until Alessandro caught his wrist.
The cousins froze inches apart.
"Don't," Alessandro said.
Matteo's pleasant expression disappeared.
"You bring a stranger into this house, let her addict uncle accuse me of treason, and I'm supposed to smile?"
"You're good at smiling."
Matteo pulled free.
For a second, something old and ugly passed between the men.
Then it vanished.
Marco cleared his throat.
"There's a larger problem."
He turned the laptop.
One transfer had been made four months earlier to a holding company in Delaware.
BELLROSE CONSULTING.
Isabella felt Thomas stiffen beside her.
"What?"
She looked at him.
"What is Bellrose?"
He would not answer.
Alessandro clicked open the company file.
The listed director was Elena Maria Santos.
Isabella stared.
"That's my mother."
No one spoke.
"My mother died sixteen years ago."
Thomas closed his eyes.
"Thomas."
He looked suddenly older than he had outside in the rain.
"Tell me."
"Bell—"
"Do not call me that."
His face crumpled.
"I'm sorry."
"Is my mother alive?"
"I don't know."
The answer hit harder because she believed it.
Thomas rubbed both hands over his face.
"Your mother handled some of the same financial records your father found. After the crash, I was told she died at the hospital."
"By whom?"
"A man from Romano Shipping."
Alessandro frowned.
"Name."
"I never knew his real one."
"Describe him."
"Mid-forties then. Gray eyes. Scar near the left ear."
Marco looked up.
Slowly.
Alessandro noticed.
"Marco."
No response.
"Who?"
Marco's voice changed.
"Salvatore Romano."
Matteo's father.
The room went silent.
Matteo stared at him.
"My father died ten years ago."
"That doesn't make him innocent ten years earlier," Marco said.
Matteo looked toward Alessandro.
"You believe this?"
"I believe records."
"And the records conveniently point at a dead man."
Alessandro said nothing.
Matteo laughed under his breath.
"Of course."
He walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Alessandro asked.
"To call my attorney."
"You are an attorney."
"Then I'm fortunate."
He left.
Isabella watched Alessandro.
"You don't trust him."
"He is family."
"That wasn't my question."
Alessandro stared into the fire.
"When we were boys, Matteo used to take punishment for things I did."
Isabella waited.
"He saved my life twice before I was twenty."
"People change."
"Yes."
He looked toward the door.
"They do."
Thomas asked for water.
Isabella brought it and sat beside him.
For the first time since she was sixteen, she studied him not as the uncle who had packed school lunches badly and attended every parent-teacher conference in an old leather jacket, but as a man who had kept enormous things from her.
"You knew my parents were involved with the Romanos."
"Yes."
"You knew their crash wasn't random."
"I suspected."
"You knew people were following me."
His eyes lowered.
"Yes."
She stood.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because your mother made me promise."
Isabella stopped.
"What?"
Thomas looked toward the laptop.
"Before the crash, Elena gave me a sealed envelope."
He swallowed.
"She said if anything happened, I was to take you and disappear. Never speak to the Romanos. Never speak to the police."
"Where is the envelope?"
"Gone."
"Gone how?"
"I opened it."
"Of course you did."
"I was twenty-seven and scared."
"What did it say?"
Thomas looked at Alessandro.
Then back to Isabella.
"That if she survived, she would contact me using the name Bellrose."
Isabella looked at the Delaware company on the screen.
Her knees went weak.
"Four months ago."
Alessandro's voice was quiet.
"This company received money four months ago."
Isabella stared at the date.
Four months.
Not sixteen years.
"Can you trace where it went?"
Marco nodded.
"It'll take time."
"Do it."
Isabella pressed both hands against the table.
Her mother might be alive.
The idea was too large to become hope yet.
A phone rang.
This time it was Matteo's, still sitting beside his abandoned bourbon.
Everyone looked at it.
The caller ID displayed no name.
Just a number.
Marco's face changed.
"What?"
Alessandro asked.
Marco picked up the phone but did not answer.
"That's a secure line used by Petrov's lieutenants."
Thomas cursed.
Alessandro looked toward the doorway Matteo had just walked through.
"Find him."
Marco's men searched the house.
Matteo was gone.
His car remained in the garage.
His coat remained by the door.
But a service gate on the east side of the estate had been opened from inside.
Then Marco returned with one more piece of information.
The Bellrose transfer had not originated from Petrov.
It had come from Alessandro's private account.
Isabella slowly turned toward him.
He looked as stunned as she felt.
"I didn't send that money."
Thomas gave a bitter smile.
"Then somebody wants her to think you did."
Alessandro picked up the laptop.
On the screen, the destination account finally resolved.
Not Delaware.
Not Russia.
A private long-term care facility two hours north of Manhattan.
Patient name: ELENA BELL.
Status: ACTIVE.
May you like
Isabella's mother had been alive all along.
And someone in Alessandro Romano's inner circle had been paying to keep her hidden.
