Chapter 13
Isabella came willingly when Nora called.
No hiding.
No guards.
She entered the Moretti library and stood before the daughter she abandoned.
Nora did not hug her.
Good.
“Why did you go into Sophie’s house?”
Isabella looked toward Roman.
“To see her.”
“You could have asked me.”
“I was afraid you’d say no.”
“I would have.”
“Yes.”
Nora’s expression hardened.
“That does not make sneaking right.”
“No.”
Isabella lowered her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Nora did not respond.
“What did you tell Sophie?”
“That she has two families.”
“She has however many people she decides are family.”
Roman looked at Nora.
Strong.
Isabella nodded.
“You sound like Daniel.”
Michael’s dead son.
Nora frowned.
“He was my father?”
Silence.
Roman looked sharply.
Isabella closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Nora stopped.
Michael had said Isabella and Daniel loved each other.
But nobody confirmed paternity.
Now—
“Daniel was my father.”
“Yes.”
“Did he know?”
“For a few months.”
“How did he die?”
Isabella’s face broke.
“Lucian.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to leave.”
“For you.”
“For us.”
“Then you stayed with Lucian.”
Isabella began crying.
“I was terrified.”
Nora laughed bitterly.
“Everybody.”
“Yes.”
Isabella looked at her daughter.
“I watched him kill Daniel.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“He made Michael believe Daniel died elsewhere?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To keep Michael loyal.”
Cruelty through incomplete grief.
Isabella continued:
“I was pregnant with you.”
“Celeste hid me.”
“Then after you were born, I tried to leave.”
“Why didn’t you take me?”
“I did.”
Nora froze.
“What?”
“For two years.”
“You remember nothing?”
“No.”
“Then Lucian found us.”
“What happened?”
Isabella looked toward the floor.
“He said either I returned or he would kill you.”
“So you gave me to grandparents.”
“Yes.”
“Then stayed.”
“Yes.”
Nora stared.
“Why never come back after Lucian weakened?”
“I had become part of Celeste’s network.”
“Revenge.”
“Yes.”
“You chose it.”
“Yes.”
Nora’s eyes filled.
“At least say it.”
“I chose revenge over returning to you.”
Silence.
No excuse.
Nora nodded.
“Thank you.”
Not forgiveness.
Truth.
Isabella reached into her bag.
A small black notebook.
Roman immediately looked at it.
No legal records.
Personal names.
Connections.
Memories.
People involved in Lucian’s network.
“What is that?”
“Daniel’s.”
Michael would want it.
“Why bring it?”
“Because there is one name neither Lucian nor Celeste knew.”
Roman frowned.
“Who?”
“Someone above Carlo.”
“Another?”
“Yes.”
“Name.”
Isabella opened the notebook.
One word:
MOTHER.
Roman almost laughed.
“Whose mother?”
Isabella looked at Helena.
Roman understood.
Helena’s mother.
His maternal grandmother.
He knew almost nothing about her.
Died before he was born.
Or supposedly.
Isabella continued:
“Lucian did not create Ash Circle alone.”
“Evelyn?”
“She gave him grievance.”
“But Helena’s mother gave him men.”
Roman looked at Helena.
She had entered silently.
Her face was white.
“My mother was dead.”
Isabella looked at her.
“No.”
Helena stared.
“She died when I was sixteen.”
“No.”
“She disappeared.”
Roman almost laughed.
Again.
Helena sat.
“What was her name?”
“Catherine Bell.”
Roman had heard it.
A respectable widow.
Never mafia.
Apparently another story.
Isabella continued:
“Catherine believed powerful families used women as bridges and discarded them.”
“So?”
“She built her own network among widows.”
Nurses.
Housekeepers.
Secretaries.
Wives.
Women men did not see as political.
Information moved through them.
Lucian later turned part of that network into Ash Circle.
Helena stared.
“My mother started it.”
Isabella nodded.
“Part.”
Helena looked destroyed.
For years she feared male ghosts.
Meanwhile the roots came from her own mother.
Roman asked:
“Alive?”
Isabella hesitated.
“No.”
“Body?”
“Yes.”
Roman almost smiled.
Progress.
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“Who killed her?”
Isabella looked toward Helena.
“Vittorio.”
Silence.
Helena’s face collapsed.
Her husband killed her mother.
Maybe she never knew.
Roman saw something dark building inside Helena.
Revenge.
Immediate.
Old.
Inherited in one second.
He moved closer.
“Mother.”
She looked at him.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t become us.”
Helena stared.
The sentence came from her son.
The man she once controlled through fear.
May you like
She closed her eyes.
The cycle paused.
