Chapter 8: The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Ricardo stared at the photograph for almost a full minute.
His brain refused to accept what his eyes were seeing.
Isabella.
His Isabella.
Standing outside a building.
Alive.
Not injured.
Not dying.
Alive.
Dante zoomed in.
The date was visible.
Two weeks after the accident.
Ricardo’s breathing became heavier.
“No.””
The word came out quietly.
Then louder.
“No.””
He grabbed the phone.
“Where did this come from?””
Dante shook his head.
“Unknown sender.””
“Find them.””
“I’m trying.””
Ricardo turned toward the window.
For two years, he had mourned a woman who might have been alive.
A woman who might have chosen to leave him.
A woman who might have known everything.
His anger was fighting with something worse.
Hope.
And hope was dangerous.
Because hope could destroy a person faster than pain.
Clara watched him carefully.
“She was your wife.””
Ricardo looked at her.
“Yes.””
“You still love her.””
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
That answer was obvious.
Clara looked down.
“My grandmother said something strange about Isabella.””
“What?””
“She said Isabella was the kind of woman who would walk into a fire if it meant saving someone else.””
Ricardo closed his eyes.
That sounded exactly like her.
The first time they met, Isabella had stood between him and a fight.
Everyone else ran away.
She stepped forward.
“You’re hurting people because you’re afraid,” she had told him.
Nobody spoke to Ricardo like that.
Nobody except her.
A sound interrupted his thoughts.
Dante.
“Boss.””
Ricardo looked over.
“We found the location.””
“The sender?””
“No.””
Dante hesitated.
“The building in the picture.””
Ricardo grabbed his coat.
“Take me there.””
The building was abandoned.
Old brick.
Broken windows.
A place nobody would notice.
Dante entered first.
Ricardo followed.
Inside, there was only one room.
And on the wall were photographs.
Dozens of them.
Pictures of Isabella.
Pictures of Leo.
Pictures of Ricardo.
Someone had been watching them.
For years.
Clara stepped into the room behind them.
She looked terrified.
“What is this?””
Ricardo didn’t answer.
Because he saw something else.
A photograph pinned in the center.
Isabella holding a baby.
Not Leo.
Another baby.
The date was written underneath.
Six months before Leo was born.
Dante stared.
“Boss…”
Ricardo moved closer.
The baby had a small birthmark near his shoulder.
The same birthmark Leo had.
Then Ricardo noticed the person standing beside Isabella.
Mateo.
Alive.
Clara covered her mouth.
“My father.””
A noise came from behind them.
Everyone turned.
An old woman stood in the doorway.
Ricardo immediately reached for his weapon.
“Who are you?””
The woman looked at him.
She wasn’t afraid.
“I’m the person Isabella trusted.””
Dante stepped forward.
“Name.””
The woman swallowed.
“Evelyn Carter.””
Ricardo narrowed his eyes.
“Why are you here?””
She looked at the photographs.
“Because you finally found what she tried to hide.””
Ricardo took a step forward.
“Where is Isabella?””
The woman’s expression changed.
Pain.
Regret.
Fear.
“She’s alive.””
The words hit harder than any weapon.
Ricardo froze.
“Where?””
Evelyn looked at Clara.
Then back at Ricardo.
“That’s the problem.””
“What problem?””
Evelyn whispered:
“She doesn’t remember you.””
Silence.
Ricardo felt like the ground disappeared.
“What?””
“After the accident, Isabella survived.””
Dante stared.
“Then why did everyone think she died?””
Evelyn looked away.
“Because someone needed Ricardo Valenti to believe she was gone.””
Ricardo’s voice became dangerous.
“Who?””
Evelyn’s eyes filled with fear.
“The same person who changed Leo’s identity.””
Ricardo stepped closer.
“Tell me.””
She shook her head.
“I can’t.””
“Why?””
“Because he knows I’m here.””
The lights suddenly went out.
A loud crash came from the hallway.
Dante pulled his weapon.
Someone was inside.
Ricardo grabbed Clara and moved her behind him.
Footsteps approached.
Slow.
Calm.
Familiar.
Then a voice echoed through the darkness.
“Ricardo.””
His blood ran cold.
May you like
Because he knew that voice.
Anthony.
