Chapter 9: The Family I Never Knew
I didn’t speak.
I couldn’t.
There are moments when your mind refuses to accept information because accepting it would mean rebuilding everything.
This was one of those moments.
My grandfather.
A person I had never known.
A person who should have been an old photograph and a forgotten name.
Was apparently the reason my family had been hiding.
My whole life.
“No.””
The word came out quietly.
Nobody moved.
“No.””
I looked at Luca.
“You’re wrong.””
He didn’t answer.
That was worse.
“You have to be wrong.””
“Avery.””
“No.””
I stepped back.
“My grandfather was a good man.””
Matteo looked at me sadly.
“You never met him.””
“I know what my mother told me.””
“What did she tell you?””
I opened my mouth.
Then stopped.
Because suddenly I realized something horrible.
My mother never talked about him.
Not once.
Not really.
I knew stories about my grandmother.
About neighbors.
About childhood.
But my grandfather?
Nothing.
“Exactly,” Matteo said.
I hated that he noticed.
I hated that everyone seemed to know my life better than I did.
“What was his name?””
Silence.
Then Luca answered.
“Victor Moretti.””
The name meant nothing.
But the way they said it meant everything.
“Why didn’t my mother tell me?””
“Because she wanted you to have a normal life.””
I laughed bitterly.
“A normal life?””
I looked around.
“At twenty-seven, I found out my waitress job somehow connected me to a mafia family.””
Nobody corrected me.
That was the worst part.
Matteo looked away.
“She loved you.””
I swallowed.
“Then why leave me with lies?””
“Because the truth gets people killed.””
The answer came from Luca.
I looked at him.
“You keep saying that.””
“Because it’s true.””
“Did my mother know you?””
“Yes.””
“Did she trust you?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t she tell me about you?””
Luca looked down.
“Because she trusted me to keep you safe.””
The words hurt.
Because they sounded like love.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
Matteo walked closer.
“Your mother made one mistake.””
“What?””
“She believed she could outrun the past.””
He looked at the necklace.
“She was wrong.””
A cold wind moved through the warehouse.
I held the pendant.
“What is this?””
Matteo’s expression changed.
“That necklace is a key.””
“To what?””
“To proof.””
I frowned.
“What proof?””
“The proof that Victor Moretti betrayed his own family.””
I looked at Luca.
“Your father?””
He nodded.
“My father.””
“And my mother had proof?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
Nobody answered.
Again.
I was starting to hate silence.
“Where?””
Luca stepped forward.
“Your mother hid it.””
“Where?””
“With someone she trusted.””
I laughed.
“Let me guess. Another person I don’t know about?””
His eyes softened.
“I’m sorry.””
That was the first time I believed he meant it.
Then Matteo’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
“What?””
A pause.
Then:
“No, that’s impossible.””
Everyone noticed.
“What happened?”” Luca asked.
Matteo lowered the phone.
His eyes moved to me.
“The person who had your mother’s evidence…”
He stopped.
My heart started racing.
“Who?””
Matteo looked at the necklace.
Then said:
“She left it with someone who was supposed to protect you.””
“Who?””
His voice became quieter.
“Your father.””
I frowned.
“My father is dead.””
Matteo stared at me.
“No.””
The word hit like a weapon.
“No?””
“He isn’t dead.””
My entire body went cold.
“Michael Marino?””
Luca’s expression changed.
“Yes.””
I looked between them.
“That’s impossible.””
Matteo shook his head slowly.
“Your mother wanted you to believe he died.””
“Why?””
“Because the people hunting him needed to believe it too.””
I couldn’t breathe.
The man who raised me.
The man whose funeral I remembered.
The man I had cried for.
Was alive?
Then Luca’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
Again.
But this time, there was something else.
Panic.
“Avery.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
He lowered the phone.
“The hospital.””
My heart stopped.
“What hospital?””
“Someone matching your father’s description was admitted an hour ago.””
I stared.
“Alive?””
Luca nodded.
May you like
Then came the words that shattered the last piece of my old life.
“He asked for you.””
