Chapter 10
Maria Collins was not born Maria Collins.
She was Maria DeLuca.
Rocco remembered the name only when Leonard said it aloud.
A dockworker’s daughter.
Nineteen when she entered Bellacorte service.
Twenty when Matteo disappeared.
Rocco had never connected them.
Why would he?
Because nobody thought servants had private lives.
That realization shamed him.
Bianca sat across from Rocco in the old kitchen.
The room where Thomas had once arrived bleeding.
“Your brother married a housemaid.”
“Apparently.”
“You didn’t know.”
“No.”
“Your father?”
“Probably.”
Rocco laughed softly.
“Dead men knew everything.”
Bianca touched her father’s coat.
“Maria knew Thomas.”
“Yes.”
“She knew he was innocent.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
“She was afraid.”
Bianca looked at him.
“Do you forgive that?”
“No.”
“Then why defend her?”
“I’m not.”
Rocco’s voice remained calm.
“I am understanding before deciding.”
Bianca looked away.
He did not need to say the rest.
Something she had failed to do with Noah.
She understood anyway.
Rocco went back through memory.
Maria never married.
Never mentioned family.
She wore no ring.
She had entered service weeks before Matteo’s death.
No.
Before.
Maybe she entered because of Matteo.
Leonard found an old photograph in the chapel archive.
Matteo at twenty-six.
Maria beside him in plain clothes.
Hands touching.
Not openly.
Enough.
On the back:
JUNE 14.
Rocco knew the date.
Three months before Black Harbor.
Marriage?
Maybe.
Then a call came.
Unknown number.
Rocco answered.
Maria.
“Mr. Bellacorte.”
His chest tightened.
“Where is Noah?”
“Safe.”
“Put him on.”
A pause.
Noah’s voice.
“Dad!”
Rocco closed his eyes.
“Hey, little man.”
“Uncle Matt has horses.”
Rocco stopped breathing.
Uncle Matt.
His brother.
Rocco had not heard the name spoken inside family in twenty-two years.
“You having fun?”
“Yes.”
“Maria there?”
“Yes.”
“Can you give her the phone?”
“Okay.”
Maria returned.
Rocco’s voice changed.
“Where?”
“Not yet.”
“You took my son.”
“Yes.”
“You locked Clara in a shed.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me for twenty-two years.”
“Yes.”
“Why shouldn’t I come for you?”
Maria was silent.
Then:
“Because Matteo asked me to save Noah from Leonard.”
Rocco looked toward his cousin.
Leonard stood across the room.
He could not hear Maria’s side.
Rocco said nothing.
Maria continued.
“Elena discovered Leonard was working with someone before she died.”
“August?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Matteo does not know.”
“Then why Leonard?”
“Because Leonard found Elena the night she died.”
Rocco’s eyes moved toward his cousin.
“He told me he didn’t.”
“He lied.”
Rocco stared.
Maria continued.
“Leonard helped her search for Matteo at first.”
“Then?”
“He found out Matteo had proof his father was not killed by Carlo.”
Rocco frowned.
“What proof?”
“The man Leonard blamed his entire life was innocent.”
“Why would that make Leonard dangerous?”
“Because Leonard did not want innocence.”
Rocco understood.
A man can become addicted to revenge.
If the enemy becomes innocent, identity collapses.
Maria continued.
“Elena told Leonard his father had been working with August.”
Rocco looked at Leonard.
“She had proof?”
“Matteo’s testimony.”
“Where is it?”
“With Matteo.”
“Why didn’t he come home?”
Maria’s voice broke slightly.
“Because I asked him not to.”
Rocco closed his eyes.
“Why?”
“Because Leonard threatened our daughter.”
Silence.
Rocco’s eyes opened.
“You have a child.”
“Yes.”
“Matteo’s.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“How old?”
“Twenty-one.”
Rocco sat.
A niece.
Alive.
Hidden.
All these years.
“Name?”
“Beatrice.”
Rocco almost laughed at the absurdity of secrets.
“Does she know who I am?”
“Yes.”
“Does she hate me?”
Maria hesitated.
“That is hers to tell.”
Good answer.
Rocco looked at Leonard.
His cousin noticed the stare.
“What?”
Rocco ignored him.
Maria continued.
“Leonard knew Matteo was alive before Elena died.”
“Why?”
“He found me visiting him.”
“And Elena?”
“She wanted to bring Matteo back.”
“Leonard stopped her.”
“How?”
Silence.
Rocco’s voice dropped.
“Did Leonard kill my wife?”
Maria whispered:
“I don’t know.”
Again.
No easy villain.
“Who was last with Elena?”
“Leonard.”
Rocco’s face hardened.
Maria continued quickly.
“But Matteo says Leonard was crying when he left.”
Rocco stopped.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Noah’s voice appeared faintly in the background.
“Uncle Matt says someone’s coming.”
Maria went silent.
Rocco stood.
“Maria.”
A man’s voice came through.
Older.
Rough.
Familiar enough to break twenty-two years.
“Rocco.”
Matteo.
Rocco could not speak.
His brother continued:
“If you still listen before punching, come alone.”
“Where?”
“The Black Orchard.”
Rocco knew it.
An abandoned Bellacorte farm.
“Is Noah safe?”
“With me.”
“If he gets one scratch—”
Matteo laughed softly.
May you like
“There you are.”
The line ended.
