CHAPTER 7 — THE WOMAN WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
For twenty-eight years, Beatrice Miller had believed her mother was dead.
She had built an entire life around that belief.
A life without memories.
Without photographs.
Without a mother's voice calling her name.
Without anyone to tell her where she came from.
And now Victoria Kensington was claiming that woman was alive.
Beatrice couldn't breathe.
“She's alive?”
Her voice barely escaped her throat.
Leo turned toward her.
“Victoria, if this is another game—”
“It isn't.”
Victoria's voice trembled through the speaker.
“For once, Leo, I'm telling you the truth.”
“Where are you?”
“At the old Rossi chapel.”
Leo's eyes narrowed.
“You're lying.”
“I knew you would say that.”
“Then prove it.”
A pause.
Then Victoria said:
“Ask Beatrice what her mother used to call her.”
Beatrice froze.
She had no answer.
She remembered almost nothing.
Only fragments.
A lullaby.
Warm hands.
Rain against glass.
A woman's perfume.
And one word.
“Birdie.”
The speaker went silent.
Beatrice's knees nearly gave out.
Leo caught her.
“How did she know that?”
Victoria answered:
“Because your mother told me.”
Beatrice looked up.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“She's at the chapel?”
“No.”
“Then where?”
“She'll be there soon.”
Leo's eyes hardened.
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn't.”
Victoria's voice became strangely calm.
“But if you want Lily alive, you will come.”
The line went dead.
Leo stood motionless.
Mateo looked at him.
“It's a trap.”
“I know.”
“Then we're not going.”
“We are.”
Mateo frowned.
“Leo—”
“If Victoria has information about Lily, I need it.”
“And if she wants you alone?”
“She can want whatever she wants.”
Leo checked his weapon.
“She doesn't get to decide how this ends.”
Beatrice stepped forward.
“I’m coming.”
Leo shook his head.
“No.”
“She mentioned my mother.”
“That doesn't mean you walk into a trap.”
Beatrice's eyes hardened.
“I've spent my whole life being told to stay where people put me.”
She looked toward the dark staircase.
“Not anymore.”
Leo studied her.
There was fear in her eyes.
But there was something stronger now.
Resolve.
He nodded.
“Stay beside me.”
Mateo immediately objected.
“Absolutely not.”
Leo looked at him.
“She is part of this.”
“That is exactly why she shouldn't be there.”
Beatrice answered for him.
“If my mother is alive, I need to see her.”
Mateo sighed.
“Fine.”
He turned toward his men.
“Triple the perimeter.”
Then he looked at Leo.
“No one gets within fifty feet of us.”
Leo nodded.
They left the underground chamber.
But before they reached the cemetery entrance, Elena stopped.
“Leo.”
He turned.
“What?”
She hesitated.
“There is something you need to know before you meet Victoria.”
“What?”
“Victoria isn't working alone.”
Leo stared at her.
“Who is she working for?”
Elena looked toward the darkness.
“Someone I thought was dead.”
Leo's expression hardened.
“Dante?”
“No.”
“Adrian?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Elena whispered:
“Your mother.”
Leo froze.
His mother's name seemed to hang in the air.
“My mother is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then stop saying things like this.”
Elena shook her head.
“Your mother wasn't killed in the bombing.”
Leo's face went blank.
“What?”
“She escaped.”
“When?”
“The night Lily disappeared.”
Leo stepped closer.
“You told me she died.”
“I believed she did.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“Again.”
“Yes.”
Leo looked away.
His hands curled into fists.
“How many lies are there, Elena?”
“Enough to bury everyone who knew the truth.”
Mateo looked between them.
“Then we'd better find the truth before someone else gets buried.”
They drove toward the old chapel.
The roads were empty.
Rain began tapping against the windshield.
Beatrice sat beside Leo.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Finally, she whispered:
“What if she's really alive?”
Leo looked at her.
“Then you'll meet her.”
“What if she doesn't want me?”
Leo's expression softened.
“She spent twenty-eight years hiding you.”
Beatrice swallowed.
“That doesn't mean she loved me.”
“It means she was afraid.”
“Of what?”
Leo looked through the windshield.
“Of people like my family.”
Beatrice gave a bitter laugh.
“Maybe she should have been afraid of my life instead.”
Leo looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“I grew up thinking I was unwanted.”
Her voice trembled.
“I thought my mother abandoned me.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I spent years wondering what was wrong with me.”
Leo said nothing.
Beatrice continued.
“I thought maybe I wasn't worth staying for.”
Leo's jaw tightened.
“You were a child.”
“I know.”
“But you blamed yourself.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
“You don't anymore.”
Beatrice stared out the window.
“No.”
She touched the scar on her shoulder.
“Now I blame the people who made me believe it.”
Leo nodded.
“That is better.”
The convoy stopped outside the chapel.
It stood on a hill overlooking the lake.
Old stone.
Broken windows.
A rusted bell tower.
No lights.
No guards.
Too quiet.
Mateo stepped out first.
He scanned the grounds.
“Clear.”
Leo opened the door.
Beatrice followed.
Rain fell harder.
They walked toward the chapel.
The wooden doors were already open.
Inside, candles burned along the aisle.
Victoria sat in the front pew.
Her ivory trousers were stained.
Her hair was disheveled.
She looked nothing like the elegant woman who had stood in Leo's mansion earlier that night.
Leo stopped several feet away.
“Where's Lily?”
Victoria looked at him.
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“You'll get her.”
“Where?”
Victoria swallowed.
“In the crypt.”
Leo's face hardened.
“You brought my daughter into a cemetery?”
“I didn't.”
“Who did?”
Victoria looked toward Beatrice.
“Your mother.”
Beatrice stepped forward.
“Where is she?”
Victoria looked at her for a long moment.
Then whispered:
“She came here twenty-eight years ago.”
“Why?”
“To bury something.”
“What?”
“Her identity.”
Beatrice frowned.
Victoria reached into her coat.
She pulled out an old photograph.
Beatrice took it.
Her hands began shaking.
A young woman stood in the photograph.
Holding a baby.
The baby was Beatrice.
And beside them—
was Victoria.
Beatrice looked at her.
“You knew her.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She saved my life.”
Leo's expression changed.
“Your mother saved Victoria?”
Victoria nodded.
“Twenty-eight years ago, my father wanted me dead.”
Beatrice frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I knew about the Rossi family.”
“You were involved?”
“I was born into it.”
Leo stared.
“What is your father's name?”
Victoria hesitated.
Then said:
“Richard Kensington.”
Leo's eyes narrowed.
“The senator?”
“Yes.”
Mateo looked at Leo.
“He was one of the names in the ledger.”
Victoria nodded.
“He still is.”
Leo stepped closer.
“You've been spying on my family.”
“I was trying to survive.”
“You helped my grandfather.”
“Yes.”
“You helped hurt Beatrice.”
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he threatened my daughter.”
Leo froze.
“You have a daughter?”
Victoria looked toward the crypt.
“No.”
She whispered:
“I had one.”
Silence.
“She was killed because of me.”
Beatrice stared.
“And now?”
Victoria looked at her.
“Now I know who killed her.”
“Who?”
Victoria pointed toward the crypt.
“Your grandfather.”
Leo's eyes hardened.
“Why?”
“Because she was the only person who knew where the ledger was.”
Beatrice shook her head.
“You said my mother had it.”
“She did.”
“Then why is my mother alive?”
Victoria smiled sadly.
“Because she escaped.”
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Beatrice's heart pounded.
“She is coming here?”
“Yes.”
Leo looked around.
“Then why aren't we waiting?”
Victoria stood.
“Because she isn't coming for you.”
Beatrice's expression changed.
“She's coming for Lily.”
Leo immediately raised his weapon.
“Explain.”
Victoria took a step backward.
“Your mother believes Lily is the only person who can destroy your grandfather.”
Leo stared.
“How?”
“Because Lily remembers.”
“Remembers what?”
“The night Dante died.”
Leo froze.
“You said Dante killed Adrian.”
Victoria shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Lily saw the real killer.”
Leo's voice dropped.
“Who?”
Victoria looked at Beatrice.
“Your mother.”
Beatrice's face went white.
“No.”
“She killed Dante?”
“No.”
Victoria shook her head.
“She killed the man who looked like Dante.”
Leo frowned.
“Adrian?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Victoria's voice became barely audible.
“Your grandfather.”
Silence.
Leo stared.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It will.”
Victoria pulled another photograph from her pocket.
This one showed a man standing beside a car.
Leo recognized him.
His grandfather.
But the date was twenty-eight years ago.
And beside him stood—
his mother.
Alive.
Holding a gun.
Beatrice looked at the image.
“That's my mother.”
“No.”
Victoria shook her head.
“Look carefully.”
Beatrice did.
The woman wasn't her mother.
She was Elena.
But much younger.
Leo stared.
“That photograph was taken before I met her.”
“Yes.”
“But she was with my grandfather.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Victoria whispered:
“Because Elena was working for him.”
Leo turned toward his wife.
Elena had followed them into the chapel.
She looked destroyed.
“Tell him.”
Victoria pointed at her.
“Tell him what you did.”
Elena's lips trembled.
Leo stared at her.
“Elena.”
She looked at him.
“I was undercover.”
Victoria laughed bitterly.
“No.”
Elena shook her head.
“I was.”
“You were working for the Rossi family.”
“I was trying to get close to him.”
“You helped him.”
“I had no choice.”
“You always say that.”
Leo raised his voice.
“Enough!”
The chapel fell silent.
He looked at Elena.
“Tell me the truth.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“I was twenty years old.”
She swallowed.
“Your grandfather found me after my parents were killed.”
“He offered me protection.”
“And you accepted.”
“Yes.”
“You worked for him.”
“Yes.”
“You watched him hurt people.”
“Yes.”
“You watched him kill.”
“Yes.”
Leo stared.
“And you never left.”
“I couldn't.”
“Why?”
Elena looked at Beatrice.
“Because your mother had my sister.”
Beatrice froze.
“What?”
Elena nodded.
“My younger sister.”
“Who?”
“Margaret.”
Beatrice's mother.
Beatrice stepped forward.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
Elena's voice broke.
“She was the one person who could get me out.”
“But she died.”
“No.”
Elena shook her head.
“She escaped.”
“Then where is she?”
A voice answered from behind them.
“Right here.”
Everyone turned.
A woman stood in the chapel doorway.
Older.
Gray streaks in her hair.
A scar across her jaw.
But the eyes—
Beatrice knew those eyes.
She had seen them every night in dreams she couldn't remember.
The woman looked at her.
Her lips trembled.
“Birdie.”
Beatrice stopped breathing.
The world disappeared.
No Leo.
No Victoria.
No crime family.
No ledger.
Only that one word.
Birdie.
The name from her earliest memory.
The woman took one step forward.
“Beatrice.”
Beatrice couldn't move.
Her mother started crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Beatrice shook her head.
“No.”
“I tried.”
“No.”
“I searched for you.”
“No.”
“I watched you from a distance.”
“Stop.”
“I saw you working here.”
Beatrice's voice broke.
“You saw me?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't come?”
“I couldn't.”
“You couldn't?”
Her mother looked at Leo.
“Your grandfather would have killed you.”
Beatrice laughed through tears.
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I thought it would keep you alive.”
“It didn't.”
Her mother stepped closer.
“I know.”
“You left me.”
“I saved you.”
“You left me!”
The scream echoed through the chapel.
Her mother flinched.
Beatrice covered her face.
For twenty-eight years, she had imagined this moment.
She had imagined anger.
Tears.
Questions.
She had never imagined how much it would hurt to finally hear her mother's voice.
Her mother whispered:
“I wanted to come back every day.”
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because I made a promise.”
“To whom?”
“To your father.”
Beatrice froze.
“My father is dead.”
Her mother shook her head.
“No.”
Leo's expression changed.
“What do you mean?”
“He isn't dead.”
Beatrice stared.
“Where is he?”
Her mother looked toward the crypt.
“He has been watching you your entire life.”
Leo stepped forward.
“Who is he?”
Her mother looked at him.
“Dante Rossi.”
The chapel went silent.
Leo's heart stopped.
“Dante is dead.”
“No.”
“Adrian said he killed him.”
“He killed the wrong man.”
“Then where is Dante?”
Her mother looked at Beatrice.
“Under the mansion.”
Leo froze.
“What?”
“He never left.”
Victoria stepped backward.
“That can't be.”
Margaret looked at her.
“You knew.”
Victoria's face changed.
“You knew he was alive?”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I was waiting.”
“For what?”
“For Beatrice to come of age.”
Beatrice frowned.
“What happens when I come of age?”
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“You inherit the Rossi empire.”
Leo shook his head.
“I don't care about the empire.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever controls it controls the people your grandfather has blackmailed for decades.”
Leo looked at her.
“And if I refuse?”
“Then they will kill you.”
A gunshot exploded.
The chapel windows shattered.
Everyone dropped.
Mateo shouted:
“DOWN!”
Bullets tore through the wooden pews.
Leo pulled Beatrice behind a stone column.
Margaret grabbed Victoria.
Elena dragged Lily's rabbit from the floor.
Then came a voice outside.
“Bring me the girl!”
Leo looked toward the crypt.
Lily.
He had forgotten she was there.
He moved.
Mateo grabbed him.
“Wait!”
“My daughter is down there.”
“It's a kill zone.”
“I don't care.”
Leo broke free.
He ran toward the crypt entrance.
Beatrice followed.
“Leo!”
Another bullet struck the stone beside them.
Leo reached the stairs.
The door slammed shut.
Locked.
He turned.
A note had been pinned to the wood.
He tore it free.
Four words.
THE WRONG DAUGHTER DIES.
Beatrice read it over his shoulder.
“What does that mean?”
Leo looked at her.
Then at Margaret.
Margaret's face had gone white.
She whispered:
“They know.”
“Know what?”
“That Lily isn't your only daughter.”
Leo frowned.
“What?”
Margaret looked at Beatrice.
“Beatrice has a twin.”
Beatrice stopped breathing.
Leo stared.
“What?”
Margaret nodded.
“You were never one child.”
“You were two.”
Beatrice whispered:
“Where is she?”
Margaret looked toward the crypt.
“She is the one they have.”
Leo's heart stopped.
“The child in the crypt…”
Margaret nodded.
“Isn't Lily.”
Leo's blood ran cold.
“Then where is my daughter?”
Margaret looked at the shattered chapel doors.
“She's already inside the mansion.”
A second gunshot echoed from far away.
Then Leo's phone rang.
He answered.
A little girl's voice whispered:
“Daddy?”
Leo's eyes widened.
“Lily?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
A pause.
Then:
“I'm with Grandpa.”
The line went dead.
Leo looked at Beatrice.
She was crying.
Margaret whispered:
“The game has begun.”
May you like
And somewhere beneath the Rossi mansion—
a child who looked exactly like Beatrice opened her eyes.
