Chapter 7 — The Woman in the Red Coat
Chapter 7 — The Woman in the Red Coat
The rain swallowed Lorenzo the moment he stepped outside.
He didn't look back.
He couldn't.
If he looked back at Isabella, he knew he would ask questions he wasn't ready to hear the answers to.
Emma was missing.
The woman who had raised her wasn't her mother.
The baby he had spent eight months mourning wasn't his biological daughter.
And somewhere in the middle of it all was a child with no birth record.
A child someone had been hiding for three years.
His daughter.
Or perhaps another lie.
Lorenzo tightened his hand around the steering wheel.
The swallow necklace was in his coat pocket.
The message was still on his phone.
COME TO SAINT RAPHAEL'S ALONE.
He had no intention of obeying the second part.
He had learned one thing tonight.
Anyone who demanded that he come alone was either lying—
or planning to kill him.
He called Rico.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
He called another number.
A man answered immediately.
“Boss?”
“Where are you?”
“Outside the house.”
“Don't enter.”
Silence.
“Boss?”
“Watch the property.”
“What about you?”
“I'm going to Saint Raphael's.”
“You're not going alone.”
“I know.”
The man hesitated.
“Then who is with you?”
Lorenzo looked into the rearview mirror.
For several seconds, he saw nothing.
Then headlights appeared behind him.
A black sedan.
Following.
He smiled without humor.
“I have company.”
Saint Raphael's appeared through the rain like a ghost.
The abandoned pediatric center stood behind rusted fencing.
No lights.
No movement.
Lorenzo parked two blocks away.
He got out.
The black sedan stopped farther down the street.
He didn't look back.
If they wanted him to know they were there, they would make themselves visible.
He walked toward the building.
Halfway there, he saw her.
A woman standing beneath an umbrella.
Red coat.
Black gloves.
Long dark hair.
She wasn't moving.
She was simply watching him.
Lorenzo stopped.
The woman lifted her umbrella slightly.
Their eyes met.
Then she turned and walked away.
Lorenzo followed.
“Wait.”
She kept walking.
“Who are you?”
Nothing.
She reached the gate.
Opened it.
Walked inside.
Lorenzo followed.
The gate slammed behind him.
The woman disappeared around the corner.
He drew his gun.
“I'm not here to play games.”
A voice answered from the darkness.
“You always were.”
Lorenzo froze.
He knew that voice.
“Gabriel.”
His brother stepped into the light.
He wasn't alone.
Three men stood behind him.
Lorenzo's gun remained raised.
“Where's Emma?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“She's not here.”
“You lied.”
“I said I'd take you to her.”
“You didn't say when.”
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
“You have five seconds.”
Gabriel smiled.
“You're still threatening people when you don't understand what's happening.”
“Four.”
“Lorenzo—”
“Three.”
Gabriel sighed.
“Fine.”
He looked toward the corridor.
“She's alive.”
Lorenzo's shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere you can't reach.”
“Two.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“You're going to shoot your own brother?”
“One.”
A gunshot cracked behind Lorenzo.
He turned instinctively.
The bullet struck the wall.
Gabriel shouted:
“Down!”
Lorenzo dropped.
The three men behind Gabriel opened fire.
Gabriel grabbed him.
“Run!”
They disappeared into the building.
“What the hell is happening?”
Lorenzo shoved Gabriel away.
“You brought me into a trap.”
“I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
Gabriel pointed toward the entrance.
“The woman in the red coat.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“Who is she?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I've been trying to find her for months.”
“Why?”
“Because she has Emma.”
Lorenzo stopped.
“What?”
Gabriel looked at him.
“She took her three days ago.”
Lorenzo's blood went cold.
“Three days?”
“Yes.”
“Then who sent me the message?”
“Her.”
“Why?”
“To get the necklace.”
Lorenzo touched his pocket.
Gabriel saw it.
“You brought it.”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn't have.”
“Why?”
“Because it's not a necklace.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“What?”
“It's a key.”
They reached an old treatment room.
Gabriel locked the door.
For the first time, Lorenzo noticed blood on his brother's sleeve.
“You're hurt.”
“It's not mine.”
“Whose?”
Gabriel didn't answer.
Lorenzo looked at him.
“You're going to tell me everything.”
Gabriel laughed.
“You still think you can order me around.”
“I can.”
“No.”
Gabriel's smile disappeared.
“Not anymore.”
Lorenzo stared.
“What happened to you?”
“Eight months of watching you destroy yourself.”
“You caused that.”
“I know.”
“You let me bury an empty coffin.”
“I didn't know it was empty.”
“You helped arrange the crash.”
“I thought it was a warning.”
“You helped Isabella disappear.”
“To save her.”
“You kidnapped my daughter.”
“No.”
Gabriel's voice cracked.
“I protected her.”
“From me?”
“From everyone.”
Lorenzo stared at him.
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you wouldn't have believed me.”
“Try me.”
Gabriel looked away.
“You were never supposed to survive the crash.”
Lorenzo froze.
“What?”
“The convoy attack wasn't meant to kill Isabella.”
“Then who?”
“You.”
Lorenzo felt cold.
“Me?”
“Your father wanted you removed.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you refused to sign the succession agreement.”
“What succession agreement?”
“The one transferring control of the empire to the first male heir.”
Lorenzo stared.
“I have no son.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Exactly.”
Silence.
“Your father wanted a male heir.”
“And Giulia?”
“Didn't count.”
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
“Emma?”
Gabriel's expression changed.
“She counts.”
“Why?”
“Because she's not only your daughter.”
Lorenzo stared.
“What does that mean?”
Gabriel whispered:
“She has Bellini blood.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Both men froze.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Gabriel raised his weapon.
Lorenzo looked toward the door.
The footsteps stopped.
Then came three knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Gabriel whispered:
“Don't answer.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because that's her.”
“The woman in the red coat?”
Gabriel nodded.
A woman's voice came through the door.
“Lorenzo.”
He recognized it.
Not Isabella.
Not Sophia.
Someone else.
“Open the door.”
Gabriel shook his head.
Lorenzo ignored him.
He unlocked it.
The woman in the red coat stood outside.
She wasn't holding a weapon.
She was holding a photograph.
“Where is Emma?”
The woman looked at Lorenzo.
“Safe.”
“Give her to me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you still don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
She held out the photograph.
Lorenzo took it.
His blood froze.
It showed Emma.
Standing in front of a house.
Beside her was Isabella.
And beside Isabella—
Lorenzo's dead mother.
He stared.
“My mother.”
The woman nodded.
“She isn't dead.”
Lorenzo looked up.
“Who are you?”
The woman smiled sadly.
“My name is Victoria.”
“Victoria what?”
“Victoria Conti.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“Isabella's sister?”
“No.”
She paused.
“Her mother.”
Silence.
Lorenzo's hand tightened around the photograph.
“That makes no sense.”
Victoria smiled.
“Your family has spent thirty years making sure it doesn't.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“You shouldn't have come.”
Victoria looked at him.
“You should have stayed dead.”
Gabriel's face hardened.
“I didn't kill anyone.”
“You killed trust.”
Lorenzo looked between them.
“You know each other.”
“Yes,” Victoria said.
“From where?”
“Your father's house.”
“When?”
“Before you were born.”
Lorenzo's mind raced.
“My father had an affair.”
Victoria laughed.
“No.”
She looked toward Gabriel.
“Your father had a daughter.”
Lorenzo stared.
“Gabriel?”
Gabriel looked away.
Victoria nodded.
“Gabriel is not your brother.”
The room went silent.
Lorenzo's face went blank.
“What?”
“Your father adopted Gabriel.”
Lorenzo looked at Gabriel.
“That's impossible.”
“No.”
Gabriel finally spoke.
“She knows.”
“Who are you?”
Gabriel's voice was quiet.
“I don't know.”
Victoria answered for him.
“You are Matteo Bellini's son.”
Lorenzo felt the air leave his lungs.
The House of Swallows.
The Bellini bloodline.
The inheritance.
Everything twisted together.
Gabriel wasn't a DeLuca.
He was Bellini.
Which meant the person who had been controlling the succession wasn't his brother.
It was someone else.
Someone who had been using Gabriel.
Lorenzo looked at Victoria.
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“You're not ready.”
“I've buried eight months of my life.”
“You've buried lies.”
“I want the truth.”
“Then bring me the swallow necklace.”
Lorenzo touched his pocket.
“Why?”
“Because the necklace contains the location of the original archive.”
He stared.
“You said it was a key.”
“It is.”
“To what?”
Victoria leaned closer.
“To your father's real inheritance.”
A gunshot exploded.
Victoria dropped.
Lorenzo caught her.
“Victoria!”
Blood spread across the red coat.
Gabriel fired toward the hallway.
The lights went out.
Someone screamed.
Then silence.
Lorenzo crouched beside Victoria.
“Stay with me.”
She grabbed his wrist.
“Listen.”
He leaned closer.
“The necklace…”
“What?”
“Don't give it to them.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the darkness.
“The woman who killed Isabella.”
Lorenzo froze.
“What?”
Victoria's eyes widened.
“She isn't Isabella.”
Lorenzo stared.
“What are you talking about?”
“The woman you've been chasing…”
Victoria struggled to breathe.
“…is her twin.”
Silence.
“Isabella had a twin?”
Victoria nodded.
“Identical.”
“Where is Isabella?”
Victoria's fingers tightened around his wrist.
“She is…”
Her eyes moved toward the corridor.
“…with your daughter.”
Then she went still.
Lorenzo stared at her.
“Victoria?”
Nothing.
Gabriel lowered his gun.
“She knew too much.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“Who shot her?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Then a voice echoed from the darkness.
“You never do.”
Lorenzo turned.
A woman stepped into the corridor.
Red coat.
Same face as Isabella.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
But colder.
She looked at Lorenzo.
“You've been looking for my sister.”
Lorenzo raised his gun.
“Where is she?”
The woman smiled.
“You buried her.”
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
“That's impossible.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You buried the woman I wanted you to bury.”
Lorenzo stared.
“Then who is with my daughter?”
The woman's smile disappeared.
“Your wife.”
“I never married anyone.”
“You did.”
She tilted her head.
“Seven years ago.”
Lorenzo froze.
Seven years.
Before Isabella.
Before Giulia.
Before the crash.
Before everything.
The woman whispered:
“You just don't remember her.”
Lorenzo felt something crack inside his mind.
A memory.
A woman.
A wedding ring.
A hospital room.
A baby crying.
He staggered backward.
Gabriel grabbed his arm.
“Lorenzo?”
He couldn't answer.
The woman in red smiled.
“Now you remember.”
Lorenzo looked down at his left hand.
There was a faint scar around his ring finger.
A scar he had always assumed came from a knife wound.
But suddenly he remembered.
A ring.
A woman.
A promise.
And a child.
The woman in red stepped closer.
“Your first wife didn't die.”
Lorenzo's face went white.
“She disappeared.”
He whispered:
“Who was she?”
The woman smiled.
“Isabella's mother.”
Lorenzo stopped breathing.
The red-coated woman turned and walked away.
Before disappearing into the darkness, she said one final thing.
“Ask your father why he made you forget.”
Then she vanished.
Lorenzo stood motionless.
Gabriel looked at him.
“Don't.”
Lorenzo turned.
“What?”
“Don't trust what she said.”
“Why?”
“Because she wants you confused.”
“She knew about the ring.”
Gabriel said nothing.
“She knew about the marriage.”
Still nothing.
“She knew about my memory.”
Gabriel lowered his eyes.
“You knew.”
Lorenzo's voice became deadly quiet.
“You knew.”
Gabriel finally looked at him.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since the beginning.”
Lorenzo raised his gun.
“You've lied to me for eight months.”
Gabriel's eyes filled with tears.
“I've lied to keep you alive.”
“You lied about my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You lied about Isabella.”
“Yes.”
“You lied about my father.”
“Yes.”
“You lied about me.”
Gabriel's voice broke.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo stared at him.
Then asked the question that terrified him most.
“What happened to my first wife?”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“She was the first person your father sacrificed.”
Lorenzo felt his knees weaken.
“Why?”
“Because she knew the truth.”
“What truth?”
Gabriel looked toward the darkness.
“The same truth everyone has been trying to hide.”
“What?”
Gabriel whispered:
“Your first wife gave birth to the baby with no birth record.”
Lorenzo stopped breathing.
The child without a name.
The child without a legal identity.
The child everyone had been hiding.
It wasn't Isabella's child.
It wasn't Gabriel's.
It was his.
And suddenly the photograph of the woman in the red coat made sense.
She hadn't come to kill him.
She had come to remind him.
He had forgotten his own daughter.
A siren sounded outside.
Gabriel looked toward the window.
“Police.”
Lorenzo didn't move.
“Where is Emma?”
Gabriel hesitated.
Then whispered:
“With Isabella.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Lorenzo grabbed him.
“You're going to tell me.”
Gabriel looked into his eyes.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if I tell you…”
He swallowed.
“…they'll kill her.”
Lorenzo released him.
Then he heard something.
A child's voice.
Very faint.
Coming from beneath the floor.
“Daddy?”
Lorenzo froze.
Gabriel's face went white.
“That's impossible.”
Lorenzo dropped to his knees.
He pressed his ear against the floor.
Again.
“Daddy…”
Emma.
Alive.
Below them.
Lorenzo looked at Gabriel.
“Open the floor.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Lorenzo—”
“Open it.”
“There isn't time.”
“OPEN IT.”
Gabriel grabbed a crowbar.
Together they tore through the old wooden boards.
Beneath them was a narrow staircase.
Dark.
Hidden.
Leading downward.
Lorenzo drew his weapon.
Gabriel followed.
They descended.
At the bottom was a small room.
An old crib stood in the center.
Empty.
A red coat lay beside it.
And on the wall was a message written in black paint.
YOU ARE LOOKING FOR THE WRONG DAUGHTER.
Lorenzo stared.
Then a small hand emerged from behind the crib.
Emma stepped into the light.
She wasn't alone.
A baby was sleeping in her arms.
Lorenzo froze.
Emma smiled.
“Daddy.”
She held out the baby.
“Mommy said you had to find her.”
Lorenzo stared at the newborn.
Then at Emma.
“What is her name?”
Emma looked at the baby.
“She doesn't have one.”
Lorenzo's heart stopped.
The baby with no birth record.
The child everyone had been fighting over.
The child Isabella had hidden.
The child his father had feared.
Emma whispered:
“She's your daughter too.”
Then the lights went out.
And from somewhere in the darkness, a woman screamed:
“Lorenzo, RUN!”
He recognized the voice.
Isabella.
And for the first time, he understood that the woman in the red coat had never been the most dangerous person in the story.
May you like
The most dangerous person was the one who had known exactly where Lorenzo would look—
and had been waiting for him there.
