Chapter 4 - The Family I Thought I Had Lost
“My brother is dead.”
Victor didn't respond.
I stared at him.
“Say something.”
“Carlo verified the payment.”
“No.”
“Lena—”
“Evan died three years ago.”
“That's what you were told.”
I pushed myself upright.
“My mother identified him.”
Victor's expression became grim.
“Your mother identified a body after a warehouse fire.”
“What are you saying?”
“The body was badly burned.”
I couldn't breathe.
“No.”
Victor reached toward me.
I pulled away.
“Don't.”
“Okay.”
“Why would Evan be searching for me?”
“We don't know.”
“Call him.”
“We don't have a number.”
“Then find one!”
Victor stood.
“I will.”
“You can find anyone when you want to control them. Find my brother.”
He took the insult without reacting.
“I will.”
Two hours later, Carlo returned with a photograph.
He handed it to me.
A man stood outside a Queens apartment building.
Baseball cap.
Beard.
Thin face.
But I knew those eyes.
My brother.
Alive.
My hand shook.
“Why?”
Victor sat across from me.
“We think he went into hiding after the warehouse fire.”
“From whom?”
“Rizzo.”
I looked up.
“What did Evan have to do with him?”
Victor hesitated.
“Your brother worked for one of my shipping companies.”
“I knew that.”
“He discovered Rizzo was moving money through our legitimate accounts.”
“So Evan helped you?”
“He tried.”
Victor's expression darkened.
“Before he could bring me the records, the warehouse burned.”
“And you thought he died.”
“Yes.”
I looked at the photograph.
“Why didn't he contact me?”
“I don't know.”
“And why search for me now?”
Carlo answered.
“Because your hospital registration used your legal name.”
My stomach dropped.
“He's been looking too?”
“Possibly.”
Victor's phone rang.
He answered.
Then held it toward me.
“It's him.”
I stared at the phone.
“Evan?”
A man's voice answered.
“Lena?”
I stopped breathing.
“Evan?”
“God.”
His voice broke.
“Lena, I'm sorry.”
“You're alive.”
“I know.”
“You're alive!”
“I couldn't come back.”
“Three years!”
“I was trying to keep you safe.”
I laughed through tears.
“Apparently every man in my life protects me by lying to me.”
Victor looked away.
Evan continued.
“Listen to me. I saw your name hit a system I still monitor. I panicked.”
“You accessed my medical records?”
“No. Krell did.”
“Why?”
“I hired him to alert me if your legal name appeared anywhere.”
Victor leaned closer.
“Why now?”
Evan heard him.
“Moretti.”
“Evan.”
The temperature dropped.
I snapped, “Neither of you starts.”
Silence.
Good.
I continued.
“Evan, are you working with Rizzo?”
“No.”
“Then why are you hiding?”
“Because I have evidence that could put him away.”
Victor's eyes sharpened.
“What evidence?”
“Enough.”
“Send it.”
“No.”
Victor almost laughed.
“Still stubborn.”
“Says you.”
I closed my eyes.
“Stop.”
Both men went quiet again.
“Evan, come to the hospital.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if Rizzo learns I'm alive, he'll come for the evidence.”
“Then give it to the police.”
“I don't know who he owns.”
Victor said, “Federal prosecutors.”
“No.”
“Evan.”
“I said no.”
I grabbed the phone.
“Then give it to me.”
Silence.
“Lena—”
“You owe me.”
“I know.”
“You let me bury you.”
His breathing became ragged.
“You let me stand beside Mom while she cried over an empty coffin.”
“It wasn't empty.”
“You know what I mean!”
Victor stood and walked toward the window, giving me space.
Evan finally whispered, “I'm sorry.”
“I don't want sorry.”
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
A long pause.
Then he said, “Okay.”
That afternoon, Evan came to Mount Sinai disguised beneath a hooded sweatshirt and baseball cap.
When he entered my room, I slapped him.
Hard.
Victor's eyebrows lifted.
Evan rubbed his cheek.
“I deserved that.”
I slapped him again.
“That was for Mom.”
“Fair.”
Then I grabbed him and hugged him.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Finally he looked at my stomach.
“You're pregnant?”
“Apparently your information system wasn't very detailed.”
He laughed.
Then his eyes moved to Victor.
“You?”
Victor nodded.
Evan looked at me.
“You always did choose complicated men.”
“I'll slap you again.”
“Understood.”
Evan pulled a small flash drive from his pocket.
“This contains financial records, names, payments, shell companies, everything.”
Victor stared at it.
“Rizzo goes down with this.”
“Legally,” I said.
Victor looked at me.
“Legally.”
Evan handed me the drive.
“Your decision.”
I frowned.
“Why mine?”
“Because I'm done making decisions for you.”
I looked at Victor.
He understood.
“So am I.”
For the first time in years, the two most infuriating men in my life had apparently learned the same lesson.
I handed the drive back to Evan.
“Federal prosecutors.”
He nodded.
Victor pulled out his phone.
“I know one we can trust.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Why does a mafia boss know a trustworthy federal prosecutor?”
Victor paused.
“Complicated.”
Evan laughed.
I pointed at both of them.
“I am surrounded by idiots.”
Then something moved beneath my palm.
I froze.
Victor noticed.
“What?”
Another kick.
Stronger.
I smiled.
“She moved.”
Victor crossed the room instinctively, then stopped before touching me.
“Can I?”
That tiny question mattered more than he understood.
I took his hand.
“Yeah.”
He placed it against my stomach.
Our daughter kicked again.
Evan watched us quietly.
Then he said, “Maybe she's telling you two to stop fighting.”
Victor looked at me.
“Smart girl.”
I smiled despite myself.
“Definitely gets that from me.”
For the first time in five months, Victor laughed.
May you like
And for the first time since I'd run from him, I didn't feel trapped hearing it.
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