Chapter 7 — The Woman in the Red Coat
Chapter 7 — The Woman in the Red Coat
For three seconds, Lorenzo forgot how to breathe.
Then he raised the gun.
“You're lying.”
Adrian didn't move.
“I expected you to say that.”
“You said Isabella ordered the crash.”
“Yes.”
“She died in that crash.”
“No.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“You're telling me Isabella is alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did I bury her?”
“Because she wanted you to.”
The room seemed to shrink around him.
Sophia covered Emma's ears.
Lorenzo noticed.
That small movement told him everything.
Sophia already knew.
“You knew,” he said.
She lowered her eyes.
“I knew Isabella survived.”
“You let me mourn her.”
“I was protecting your daughter.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
His voice became dangerously quiet.
“How long?”
Sophia's lips trembled.
“Eight months.”
Lorenzo turned toward Adrian.
“And you?”
“I knew she survived.”
“You watched me destroy half the city looking for her.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me bury her.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me believe my daughter was dead.”
Adrian's expression finally changed.
“I watched because Isabella told me that if I came to you, everyone would die.”
Lorenzo laughed bitterly.
“Everyone?”
Adrian nodded.
“Everyone who knew the truth.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Adrian looked toward the small girl hiding behind Lorenzo's coat.
“The woman in the red coat.”
Lorenzo froze.
“What about her?”
“She was at the crash.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“She wasn't one of the attackers.”
Lorenzo's eyes hardened.
“Then who was she?”
Adrian answered quietly.
“She was the person Isabella trusted most.”
Eight months earlier.
The coastal road was almost empty.
Rain blurred the windshield.
The convoy moved along the cliffside toward the DeLuca estate.
Inside the second SUV, Isabella held her newborn daughter against her chest.
The baby was sleeping.
Three days old.
Tiny.
Perfect.
Isabella looked down at her.
“I'm sorry.”
The baby stirred.
Isabella kissed her forehead.
“I wish you could grow up without knowing any of this.”
The driver looked at her through the mirror.
“Mrs. DeLuca?”
“Yes?”
“We're approaching the turn.”
Isabella looked outside.
Her expression changed.
“Stop.”
The driver frowned.
“What?”
“Stop the car.”
He slowed.
A black sedan sat on the shoulder ahead.
Its hazard lights were blinking.
Isabella stared.
“Don't stop.”
The driver accelerated.
Then the sedan moved.
It crossed directly into their lane.
The driver slammed the brakes.
Tires screamed.
The convoy behind them swerved.
And then—
the first explosion came.
The memory ended.
Lorenzo stared at Adrian.
“How did you know?”
“Because I was there.”
“You were in the convoy?”
“No.”
“Then where?”
“Behind it.”
Lorenzo's face hardened.
“Why?”
“To make sure Isabella reached the second vehicle.”
“What second vehicle?”
Adrian looked at Sophia.
“The one nobody knew existed.”
Sophia remembered.
She had been standing inside the service entrance of the DeLuca estate when Isabella arrived three hours before the crash.
Isabella was carrying the baby.
Her face was pale.
Sophia had never seen her look so frightened.
“Where is Carlo?”
“Upstairs.”
“Bring him.”
Sophia hurried away.
When she returned, Carlo was beside Isabella.
He looked at the baby.
Then at Isabella.
“We don't have much time.”
“I know.”
“Lorenzo can't know.”
“I know.”
Sophia looked between them.
“What is happening?”
Isabella placed the baby into her arms.
“We're going to make Lorenzo believe she died.”
Sophia stared.
“No.”
“We have to.”
“Why?”
“Because they aren't trying to kill me.”
“Then who?”
Isabella looked at the baby.
“They're trying to take her.”
Sophia tightened her hold.
“Who?”
Isabella whispered:
“Her grandfather.”
Lorenzo's face hardened as Sophia finished.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“Why would he take his own granddaughter?”
“Because the child inherited something.”
“The trust.”
Sophia nodded.
“Your father wanted control of it.”
“Why didn't he simply take the child?”
“Because Isabella knew.”
“And the crash?”
“Was supposed to erase the child.”
Lorenzo looked at Adrian.
“Then why did Isabella stage it?”
“She didn't stage the attack.”
Adrian's voice was firm.
“She redirected it.”
Lorenzo stared.
“What does that mean?”
“She knew the attack was coming.”
“And?”
“She used it.”
“For what?”
“To disappear.”
The woman in the red coat had arrived at the coastal road seventeen minutes before the explosion.
She had stood beside the black sedan.
She hadn't looked frightened.
She hadn't looked surprised.
She had simply watched the convoy approach.
When the first truck appeared, she lifted one hand.
A signal.
The truck moved.
The explosion followed.
But the woman in the red coat was already walking away.
She entered a waiting vehicle.
The door closed.
And five minutes later, Isabella appeared.
Alive.
Uninjured.
Carrying no baby.
The woman in the red coat opened the rear door.
“Get in.”
Isabella climbed inside.
Her face was wet with tears.
“Did they see her?”
“No.”
“Lorenzo?”
“He'll believe the body was yours.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“I hate this.”
The woman reached for her hand.
“You knew this was the only way.”
“I know.”
“You still have time to change your mind.”
Isabella shook her head.
“No.”
She looked toward the road.
Smoke rose into the night.
“Take me to the second location.”
The woman nodded.
“And the baby?”
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
“She's already there.”
Back in the clinic, Lorenzo stared at Adrian.
“Who was the woman?”
Adrian didn't answer.
“Tell me.”
“I can't.”
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“You have five seconds.”
Adrian smiled faintly.
“You haven't changed.”
“Four.”
“She trusted you.”
“Three.”
“Even after what happened.”
“Two.”
Adrian sighed.
“Her name is Elena.”
Lorenzo's expression changed.
“Elena what?”
“Just Elena.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
Adrian looked toward the door.
“She disappears every time the DeLuca family gets close.”
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“Because she knows what your father did.”
“What did he do?”
Adrian's face became cold.
“He didn't just try to take the baby.”
“What else?”
“He ordered the deaths of everyone who knew about the trust.”
Lorenzo looked at Sophia.
“Carlo.”
She nodded.
“Carlo was one of them.”
“My father killed him?”
“No.”
Sophia's voice broke.
“Your father ordered it.”
Lorenzo's expression became murderous.
“Who carried it out?”
Sophia didn't answer.
Adrian did.
“Marco.”
Lorenzo froze.
His chief of security.
The man who had stood beside him for fifteen years.
The man who had helped him search for Isabella.
The man who had attended the funeral.
The man who had held an umbrella over Lorenzo while the coffin was lowered into the earth.
“No.”
Adrian nodded.
“Marco arranged the crash.”
Lorenzo's mind raced.
“Then why didn't he kill Isabella?”
“Because Isabella knew something about him.”
“What?”
Adrian looked toward Emma.
“She knew he was your father's son.”
Silence.
Lorenzo's face went blank.
“My father had another son?”
“No.”
Adrian's eyes darkened.
“Marco isn't your father's son.”
“Then who?”
Adrian whispered:
“Your father.”
Lorenzo stared.
“That's impossible.”
“Your father had an affair with Marco's mother.”
Lorenzo felt sick.
“And Marco knew?”
“Yes.”
“Then why work for me?”
“To get close enough to control you.”
Lorenzo looked down at Emma.
His daughter was watching him.
She didn't understand.
She only knew that the room was full of adults speaking in frightened voices.
Lorenzo knelt.
“Emma.”
She looked at him.
“Do you remember the woman in the red coat?”
Emma nodded.
“Did she hurt Mommy?”
“No.”
“Did she hurt you?”
“No.”
“Then what did she do?”
Emma thought.
“She gave Mommy a baby.”
Lorenzo froze.
“What?”
Sophia closed her eyes.
Emma continued.
“Mommy gave her the baby.”
“Which baby?”
Emma pointed at herself.
“Me.”
Lorenzo's heart stopped.
Sophia looked horrified.
“Emma…”
The little girl frowned.
“Mommy said not to tell.”
Lorenzo stood slowly.
“What did Isabella tell you?”
Emma hugged her rabbit.
“She said…”
The child looked directly at him.
“She said Daddy can't know yet.”
Lorenzo's blood ran cold.
“Why?”
Emma's little voice became softer.
“Because Daddy's best friend is bad.”
Everyone in the room went still.
Lorenzo whispered:
“Who?”
Emma pointed toward the window.
At the black sedan parked across the street.
A man stood beside it.
Marco.
He was holding a phone.
And watching the clinic.
Lorenzo's expression changed.
Marco looked up.
Their eyes met.
For one second, neither moved.
Then Marco smiled.
He raised the phone.
Lorenzo's phone vibrated.
One message.
You should have left the dead buried.
A second message arrived.
Now I'm coming for the child.
Lorenzo looked at Emma.
Then at the door.
“Lock everything.”
Adrian immediately moved.
Matteo extinguished the lights.
Sophia pulled Emma into her arms.
Lorenzo walked toward the window.
Marco was gone.
The black sedan had disappeared.
But something else remained on the pavement.
A small red object.
Lorenzo went outside.
He found a child's hair ribbon.
Red.
Pinned beneath it was a note.
He opened it.
Only one sentence.
THE WOMAN IN THE RED COAT WASN'T RUNNING FROM THE DE LUCAS.
He turned the paper over.
Another sentence.
SHE WAS RUNNING FROM YOU.
Three hours later, they were in a safe house outside Manhattan.
Emma slept upstairs.
Sophia sat beside her.
Lorenzo stood in the kitchen, staring at the note.
Adrian poured himself coffee.
“You still don't understand.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“Then explain.”
“Isabella didn't disappear to escape you.”
“She staged her death.”
“Yes.”
“She hid my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“She lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian took a breath.
“Because she discovered the truth about your family.”
“I already know about the trust.”
“No.”
Adrian shook his head.
“You know about the trust.”
“You said there was more.”
“There is.”
“What?”
Adrian looked directly at him.
“The trust was never created for money.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“Then what was it created for?”
“Names.”
“Whose names?”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“Children.”
Lorenzo went still.
“Twenty-three children.”
He remembered the underground room.
The photographs.
The word SAFE.
“They're all connected.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“They were all children your father wanted removed.”
“Why?”
“Because every one of them could eventually testify against him.”
Lorenzo stared.
“And Isabella saved them.”
“Yes.”
“She built the network.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did she leave them?”
“She didn't.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“What?”
“She disappeared.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian shook his head.
“Isabella is still running it.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“From where?”
Adrian smiled.
“That is the question.”
At 4:17 a.m., the phone rang.
Lorenzo answered.
No one spoke.
Then he heard breathing.
A woman's breathing.
His heart stopped.
“Isabella?”
Silence.
“Isabella, is that you?”
Finally, a whisper.
“You found Emma.”
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
“Where are you?”
“Far away.”
“I've been looking for you.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I had no choice.”
“You had a choice.”
“I chose our daughter.”
Lorenzo's voice broke.
“She isn't just your daughter.”
“I know.”
“She's mine.”
“Yes.”
“Then come back.”
Silence.
“Isabella.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because Marco isn't the only one watching you.”
Lorenzo's expression changed.
“Who else?”
Her voice became quieter.
“Your father.”
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
Lorenzo froze.
“What?”
“I know he's dead.”
“Then how can he be watching me?”
Silence.
“Isabella.”
Then she whispered:
“Because the man you buried twenty-four years ago…”
A pause.
“…wasn't your father.”
Lorenzo stopped breathing.
“What are you saying?”
The line went dead.
He immediately called back.
Nothing.
The number was gone.
Adrian entered the room.
“What happened?”
Lorenzo slowly lowered the phone.
“She called.”
“Who?”
“Isabella.”
Adrian's face changed.
“What did she say?”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“She said my father isn't dead.”
Adrian went pale.
“That can't be.”
“She said the man I buried wasn't my father.”
Adrian took one step backward.
“Lorenzo…”
“What?”
Adrian stared at him.
“You need to listen to me.”
“What?”
“The woman in the red coat.”
“What about her?”
“She wasn't protecting Isabella.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“Then who?”
Adrian whispered:
“She's been protecting the man who has been controlling this family from the beginning.”
“Who?”
Adrian looked toward the upstairs room where Emma was sleeping.
Then he said:
“Her real father.”
Lorenzo's face hardened.
“My daughter has one father.”
Adrian shook his head.
“No.”
His voice dropped.
“That's the problem.”
He looked at Lorenzo.
“Emma has two.”
And somewhere across the city, behind the tinted windows of a moving black car, the woman in the red coat removed her hood.
She placed a photograph on the seat beside her.
It showed Isabella holding a newborn.
Beside Isabella stood Lorenzo.
And behind them—
a man Lorenzo had believed dead for twenty-four years.
The woman looked at the photograph.
Then she whispered:
“It's time to bring him home.”
May you like
The car disappeared into the rain.
And for the first time, the real war began.
