Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
I moved back to the Romano estate six weeks after the shooting.
Not as Victor’s wife.
Not as an employee either.
I refused the gray uniform.
Victor never asked me to wear it again.
I stayed in a guest suite near Leo’s room while attending physical therapy.
Leo treated my recovery like a full-time supervisory position.
“Ten steps.”
“I know.”
“You only did eight.”
“I hate you.”
He smiled.
“No you don’t.”
Correct.
Victor watched from doorways more often than he realized.
One afternoon, Leo handed me a drawing.
Three people.
Victor.
Leo.
Me.
I pointed at myself.
“Why am I taller than your father?”
“Because you’re brave.”
Victor, behind us, muttered:
“That is not how height works.”
Leo ignored him.
At dinner, Victor received a package.
No return address.
Inside was a photograph.
Anthony.
Alive.
Sitting beside a woman.
Victor dropped the photo.
I picked it up.
The woman was beautiful.
Dark hair.
Large sunglasses.
A scar near her neck.
Victor looked like he had seen a ghost.
“Who is she?”
He whispered:
“Elena.”
His dead wife.
I stared.
“No.”
Victor grabbed the photograph.
Elena Romano.
Supposedly killed in the car bomb two years earlier.
I had seen her portrait in the west hall.
Same face.
Same eyes.
The photograph had been taken three days ago.
Timestamp embedded.
Victor’s hand shook.
“Impossible.”
Gabriel examined it.
Then:
“Maybe altered.”
Victor looked at him.
“Find out.”
Forensic review confirmed the image was real.
No obvious manipulation.
Victor became a different man overnight.
Anger would have been easier.
Instead he disappeared inside himself.
He barely ate.
Barely spoke.
Leo noticed.
“Daddy’s sad.”
“Yes.”
“Because Mommy?”
I froze.
Victor had not told him.
Children hear everything.
“Who told you?”
“Uncle Anthony.”
My blood ran cold.
“When?”
“Before he left.”
Victor entered behind us.
Leo continued innocently:
“He said Mommy never died.”
Victor went still.
“What exactly did Anthony tell you?”
“That Mommy went away because you were bad.”
Victor looked like someone struck him.
Leo immediately regretted it.
“I’m sorry.”
Victor crouched.
“You did nothing wrong.”
Good.
Then:
“Did he tell you where she is?”
Leo shook his head.
“He said he would bring her home someday.”
Anthony had been planting this for months.
Maybe years.
The photograph led to Montreal.
Elena had entered Canada under another name.
Isabel Costa.
Victor wanted to fly immediately.
Gabriel stopped him.
“Could be a trap.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
I watched them.
Then said:
“You have a son.”
Victor turned.
“You don’t get to stop caring if it’s a trap.”
His eyes sharpened.
No one spoke to him that way.
I did now.
“Send someone else first.”
He hated it.
Then agreed.
Gabriel’s people found the apartment.
Empty.
But inside were medical records.
Elena had survived the bombing.
Barely.
Burns.
Facial reconstruction.
Months of hospitalization under a false identity.
Why did Victor believe she died?
Because a burned body had been recovered from the vehicle.
DNA supposedly confirmed.
The lab report was forged.
By someone with inside access.
Anthony.
Victor’s brother had faked Elena’s death.
But why would Elena participate?
Then Gabriel found a video file.
Elena sat before a camera.
Scar visible.
Voice shaking.
“Victor, if you ever see this, it means Anthony failed to keep me hidden.”
Victor watched.
I stood beside him.
Elena continued.
“The bomb was not meant for you.”
Victor froze.
“It was meant for me.”
She explained.
Two years earlier, she discovered money missing from Romano shipping accounts.
Not mafia money.
Legitimate company funds.
Millions.
Anthony was stealing through shell companies.
Elena confronted him privately because she feared Victor would kill his own brother.
Anthony panicked.
The car bomb was meant to silence her.
She survived.
Anthony’s men moved her from the hospital before Victor knew.
Then threatened Leo.
If Elena returned, they would kill her son.
So she disappeared.
Victor sank into a chair.
For two years, he had blamed his enemies.
Killed men.
Started retaliations.
All based on a lie.
Anthony had used Victor’s grief as camouflage.
Then Elena’s video ended with:
“There is one person in the house I trusted.”
Victor looked up.
The screen changed.
A name appeared.
Gabriel DeLuca.
We both turned.
Gabriel stood behind us.
May you like
And for the first time since I met him, Victor reached for his gun.
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