Chapter 4 - THE LETTER ISABELLA NEVER SENT
The next morning, I met Dante in a private room at a quiet café.
Not his mansion.
Not his office.
A public place.
I had insisted.
He arrived carrying Luca.
The baby saw me and immediately reached out.
Dante gave a tired smile.
"I think he remembers you."
I took Luca carefully.
"Hello again, little man."
He grabbed my necklace.
Dante watched us.
Then placed an envelope on the table.
"Isabella wrote this."
My hands trembled.
"To me?"
He nodded.
"She never mailed it."
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter written in elegant blue ink.
Dear Elena,
I don't know what name you use now.
I don't know whether you remember me.
But I remember you.
I remember holding your hand when we were little.
I remember someone telling me we would see each other again.
I waited for years.
And now I've finally found you.
If you want to meet me, I will come anywhere.
I don't care what our families say.
You're my sister.
And I have loved you my whole life.
Isabella.
I couldn't see the final words through my tears.
Dante looked away.
"Why didn't she send it?"
I whispered.
He rubbed his forehead.
"She was afraid."
"Of what?"
He hesitated.
"Her family."
I looked up.
"What family?"
"Her adoptive father. Victor Bellini."
I recognized the name.
Bellini Holdings.
Luxury hotels.
Real estate.
Private equity.
A man who appeared on magazine covers beside politicians and celebrities.
Dante continued.
"Victor raised Isabella after her adoptive mother died. He was controlling. He didn't want her searching for her birth family."
"Why?"
Dante's expression darkened.
"That's what I never understood."
I looked down at Luca.
He was asleep.
"How did Isabella die?"
Dante stared at the table.
"Car accident."
I swallowed.
"Was she alone?"
He nodded.
"Driving home from a meeting."
"What meeting?"
Dante's eyes lifted.
"With someone who claimed to have information about you."
My blood went cold.
"Who?"
He shook his head.
"We never identified the person."
I looked at Isabella's letter.
Then at the man across from me.
"Do you think her death was an accident?"
Dante didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"I used to."
The silence between us grew heavy.
Finally, I whispered:
"And now?"
Dante looked at Luca.
May you like
Then at me.
"Now I'm not so sure."
