Chapter 2 - I Learned the Dead Mafia Wife Was My Twin Sister—Then the Secret House She Left Me Revealed She Had Known Exactly Who Planned to Kill HerThe house in Cold Spring didn't look like something owned by a mafia wife.
That surprised me.
I expected gates.
Cameras.
Marble.
Maybe gargoyles.
Instead, it was a small blue cottage overlooking the Hudson.
A porch wrapped around the front.
Wind chimes hung beside the door.
There were flower boxes beneath the windows.
Gabriel stared at it.
“I've never been here.”
Thomas looked at him.
“That was the point.”
We had driven separately.
Gabriel insisted on security.
I insisted that anyone who had worked for him while Isabella was alive stay away until we knew who had betrayed her.
That resulted in exactly two people Gabriel trusted enough to bring.
His younger sister, Alessandra.
And Marco Reyes, a former NYPD detective who had joined Gabriel's security team only six months earlier.
Alessandra arrived wearing sweatpants beneath a cashmere coat.
She looked at me.
Stopped.
And began crying.
I didn't know what to do.
“Oh my God.”
She covered her mouth.
“You look exactly like her.”
There it was again.
Exactly like her.
I was beginning to hate those words.
Gabriel noticed.
“Alessandra.”
His sister wiped her face.
“Sorry.”
She stepped closer.
“I'm sorry. You're Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Not Isabella.”
“Correct.”
She nodded.
“I'm sorry.”
That mattered.
More than she probably understood.
Luca reached for me from Gabriel's arms.
Alessandra stared.
“He never does that.”
“So I've heard.”
I took him.
Gabriel unlocked the cottage using Thomas's key.
The lights worked.
Someone had maintained the place.
Inside smelled faintly of cedar and lavender.
There were books.
Furniture.
A piano.
Then I saw the photographs.
Dozens.
Isabella.
Some with Gabriel.
Some alone.
One showed her pregnant.
I stopped.
She stood on this porch with one hand resting over Luca.
She looked happy.
Alive.
My chest tightened.
Gabriel came beside me.
“When was this?”
Thomas examined it.
“About two weeks before the crash.”
Gabriel touched the frame.
“You saw her then?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“No.”
Gabriel's anger surfaced.
“You let me spend four years believing she had no secrets from me.”
Thomas looked at him.
“She loved you.”
“That's not an answer.”
“She didn't trust the world around you.”
Gabriel went silent.
Thomas continued.
“And she was right.”
That ended the argument.
We searched the house.
Nothing.
Then Luca became restless.
I carried him upstairs.
The nursery stopped me.
A crib.
Unused.
Boxes of diapers.
Baby clothes.
A stuffed lion.
Isabella had prepared this place for him.
Why?
On the wall hung two framed names.
LUCA
and
ELENA
I couldn't breathe.
Gabriel entered behind me.
He saw them.
“Elena.”
I touched the frame bearing my name.
“She wanted me here.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
He pointed beneath the frame.
A tiny envelope was taped behind it.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a handwritten note.
For my sister.
I sat on the floor.
Gabriel quietly took Luca so I could read.
Elena,
If you are reading this, then either I finally became brave enough to tell you everything, or something happened before I could.
Tears blurred the words.
First, I am sorry.
I found you four years ago.
I watched you laugh with customers at Thomas's restaurant. I watched you complain about student loans. I watched you call your father during your break because he had forgotten a doctor's appointment.
I wanted to walk up to you and say, Hi, I'm Isabella. We shared a womb and apparently the same terrible habit of chewing the inside of our cheek when nervous.
I stopped.
I was doing exactly that.
Gabriel noticed.
His eyes filled.
I continued.
But finding you put you in danger.
Carlo is alive.
Gabriel cursed quietly.
He discovered I had learned about you. I convinced him I had lost your trail. I stayed away because I believed distance would protect you.
Then I became pregnant.
And I realized fear had stolen too much from our family already.
I wanted Luca to know his aunt.
I looked at the baby.
He stared back with solemn blue eyes.
I wanted you to know you had a sister.
I wanted one Christmas. One birthday. One stupid argument about which of us Mom would have liked better.
I laughed through tears.
Gabriel doesn't know about you.
Gabriel looked away.
I love my husband. But Gabriel was raised to solve danger by controlling it. If I told him before I understood who was helping Carlo, he would surround you with guards, and the traitor would know exactly where you were.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
She had known him.
So I need proof first.
If something happens to me, do not let anyone turn you into my replacement.
I stopped.
Read that line again.
Gabriel heard it too.
His face changed.
You are not me.
You don't owe Gabriel anything.
You don't owe Luca motherhood.
You don't owe the Moretti or DeLuca families forgiveness.
You are Elena.
Please stay Elena.
I cried.
Hard.
Gabriel moved as if he wanted to touch me.
Then stopped.
“Can I?”
I nodded.
He sat beside me.
His hand rested gently between my shoulder blades.
No pulling.
No claiming.
Just there.
I continued.
There is a compartment beneath the piano bench.
What is inside may explain everything.
We went downstairs.
Thomas lifted the piano bench.
Nothing.
Marco examined it.
“False bottom.”
He removed four screws.
Inside was a flash drive.
A journal.
And an envelope addressed to Gabriel.
He stared at it.
“Read yours first,” I said.
“No.”
“Gabriel.”
“Yours brought us here.”
“So did she.”
He opened it.
His wife's final letter destroyed him quietly.
He didn't cry immediately.
He read.
Then sat.
Then read again.
Finally he handed it to me.
Gabriel,
If Elena is with you, then the secret I was most afraid to tell you has already found you.
Please don't look at her and see me.
I swallowed.
I know you.
Grief will try to convince you that getting part of me back is the same as healing. It isn't.
Gabriel stared at the floor.
Elena is my sister.
She isn't your second chance with your wife.
If you care about her, care about her as herself.
And if she wants nothing to do with our world, let her leave.
I handed it back.
Neither of us spoke.
Then Marco opened the journal.
Isabella had investigated financial transfers connecting Carlo Moretti to someone inside Gabriel's companies.
Millions moved through shell corporations.
Construction contracts.
Shipping accounts.
Private security firms.
One name appeared repeatedly.
R.M.
Gabriel frowned.
“Rafael Moretti.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Isabella's uncle.”
“My uncle?”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Manhattan.”
Wonderful.
My family tree had become a criminal indictment.
Gabriel continued.
“Rafael told me Carlo died.”
Thomas stared.
“He lied.”
“He identified the body.”
“Then either he was fooled—”
“Or helped.”
Marco plugged in the flash drive.
Encrypted.
But one video opened.
Isabella appeared.
Pregnant.
Alive.
I stopped breathing.
“Gabriel, if you're watching this, I'm sorry.”
His face broke.
She continued.
“I've confirmed my father is alive.”
Gabriel sat.
“Rafael knows.”
His expression changed.
“I don't know whether my uncle is helping him willingly or being threatened.”
The video flickered.
“My father wants something called the Belladonna Ledger.”
Thomas inhaled sharply.
Gabriel looked at him.
“You know it?”
Thomas nodded.
“Sofia kept records.”
“My biological mother?”
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
“The Moretti organization's legitimate and illegal assets.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course she did.”
Isabella continued.
“The ledger isn't about money.”
Then she looked directly into the camera.
“It proves who owns the DeLuca waterfront properties.”
Gabriel frowned.
“What?”
“The land was purchased through money Sofia inherited before marrying Carlo.”
Thomas whispered:
“She transferred it.”
“To who?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“You and Isabella.”
Silence.
Gabriel stood.
“No.”
Thomas nodded.
“Half to each daughter.”
I stared.
“What land?”
Gabriel answered.
“Approximately forty percent of DeLuca Maritime's New York port infrastructure.”
I almost laughed.
“I have twelve hundred dollars in savings.”
Nobody laughed.
“How much is that worth?”
Gabriel hesitated.
“Current valuation?”
“Yes.”
“About nine hundred million.”
I sat down.
“No.”
“Your half would be approximately four-fifty.”
“No.”
“Elena—”
“I waited three months for my landlord to fix a leaking radiator because I couldn't afford to move.”
I pointed at the screen.
“You're telling me my dead biological mother left me four hundred and fifty million dollars?”
“Potentially.”
“Potentially?”
“If the original trust documents exist.”
I laughed.
This was insane.
Then Isabella's video continued.
“Carlo doesn't only want the properties.”
“He needs both daughters' signatures to unwind Sofia's trust.”
My laughter disappeared.
One daughter was dead.
“What happens because Isabella died?”
Gabriel looked at Luca.
I understood.
Her interest passed to her child.
“So Carlo needs me.”
“Yes.”
“And Luca.”
Gabriel's face became cold.
“Yes.”
The attempted shooting suddenly made sense.
Maybe they hadn't been trying to kill me.
Maybe they were trying to frighten Gabriel into moving me.
Or capture us.
The video continued.
“I think someone close to Gabriel has been giving my father information.”
Then Isabella said a name.
“Rafael.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
But she wasn't finished.
“I don't think he's the only one.”
The video ended.
Marco examined the files.
“There are more, but encrypted.”
Then headlights appeared outside.
Three vehicles.
Gabriel stood instantly.
“Everyone upstairs.”
“No,” I said.
“Elena.”
“Don't start.”
He looked furious.
Then remembered Isabella's letter.
His jaw tightened.
“Fine. Stay behind me.”
“Still controlling.”
“I'm trying.”
Someone knocked.
Marco checked the camera.
His expression changed.
“Gabriel.”
“Who?”
“Rafael Moretti.”
My biological uncle stood on the porch.
Alone.
Gabriel opened the door with a weapon hidden behind his thigh.
Rafael was in his sixties.
Elegant.
Gray-haired.
He looked at me.
And started crying.
“Sofia.”
I stiffened.
“My name is Elena.”
He nodded quickly.
“Yes.”
“Try again.”
“Elena.”
Better.
Then Gabriel stepped forward.
“You told me Carlo was dead.”
Rafael looked exhausted.
“I thought he was.”
“Isabella said otherwise.”
His face collapsed.
“You found the house.”
“We found everything.”
Rafael entered.
He saw Luca.
Then me.
“My God.”
“Stop staring.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because Carlo knows you're alive.”
“We noticed.”
“He's coming.”
“For the trust?”
Rafael's eyes widened.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
He looked at Gabriel.
“Then you know why Isabella died.”
Gabriel became perfectly still.
“Say it.”
Rafael swallowed.
“She refused to sign.”
My heart stopped.
“Carlo approached her?”
“Two days before the crash.”
Gabriel's voice dropped.
“And you knew?”
“Afterward.”
“You let me bury my wife without telling me?”
“He threatened my children.”
Gabriel grabbed Rafael by the collar.
I flinched.
“Gabriel.”
He froze.
His fist remained curled.
Then he released Rafael.
That mattered.
Rafael adjusted his jacket.
“I was a coward.”
“Yes,” Gabriel said.
No comfort.
Rafael accepted it.
“Carlo ordered the crash.”
Gabriel looked like he had stopped breathing.
“Who drove the second car?”
Rafael hesitated.
“Victor Santoro.”
Gabriel's security chief.
Not Marco.
The man who had protected Gabriel for fifteen years.
The man Gabriel had originally wanted to bring tonight.
The man I had forced him to exclude.
Gabriel went pale.
Then his phone rang.
Victor.
Everyone stared.
Gabriel answered.
“Where are you?”
Victor sounded panicked.
“Boss, someone breached the estate.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“Luca's nursery?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No. But we found something.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
Victor paused.
“Of your waitress.”
My blood chilled.
“How did you know she's a waitress?” Gabriel asked.
Silence.
Victor had made a mistake.
We all knew it.
Gabriel's voice became deadly calm.
“Victor?”
The line disconnected.
Marco ran toward the window.
“Cars!”
Not Rafael's.
More headlights appeared at the end of the road.
Six.
Then seven.
Gabriel grabbed Luca.
“Elena.”
I already knew.
This wasn't a visit.
It was an assault.
Rafael whispered:
“Carlo.”
The first gunshot shattered the porch light.
May you like
And as darkness swallowed the cottage my dead sister had prepared for me, Gabriel handed his son into my arms and said the words that finally made me understand how terrified he truly was.
“Whatever happens to me, take Luca and run.”
Related Stories
