Chapter 3 - The Secret Renata Left Behind
Adriano took Dileia home himself.
Not because she wanted him to.
Because when she reached the service exit, a black sedan was idling across the street.
She stopped.
Adriano noticed.
“That car?”
“I don’t know.”
“Marco.”
His security chief moved immediately.
The sedan pulled away before Marco crossed the street.
Dileia stared after it.
Adriano opened his car door.
“Still want to take the subway?”
She climbed inside without answering.
Twenty minutes later, the black SUV stopped outside a narrow South Boston apartment building.
Dileia reached for the door.
Adriano said, “Wait.”
“I’m home.”
“Someone was watching the building.”
Dileia turned.
Two men stood beneath the awning across the street.
Neither looked toward them.
That made them more suspicious.
“Your men?”
“No.”
Her mouth went dry.
“Toby.”
She jumped out.
Adriano followed.
They took the stairs two at a time.
Dileia unlocked the apartment.
“Toby?”
A fifteen-year-old boy appeared from the kitchen holding a cereal bowl.
“You’re early.”
Dileia grabbed him.
“What happened?”
“To what?”
“Did anyone come here?”
“No.”
“Call?”
“Some guy about Dad’s debt.”
Adriano entered behind her.
Toby stared.
“Who is that?”
“Complicated.”
Toby looked Adriano up and down.
“He looks expensive.”
Adriano shut the door.
“I’ve been called worse.”
Toby pointed his spoon.
“Are you the guy Mom would have hated?”
Dileia groaned.
“Toby.”
“What? She hated rich guys.”
Adriano almost smiled.
“Your mother sounds sensible.”
Then Toby’s expression changed.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“The package.”
Dileia froze.
“What package?”
“Some courier dropped it off.”
“Where?”
Toby pointed toward the table.
A small brown box sat beside his schoolbooks.
Adriano’s voice sharpened.
“Nobody touch it.”
Toby slowly lowered his spoon.
“I already opened it.”
Dileia rushed over.
Inside was an old paperback.
Jane Eyre.
Her breath caught.
Renata’s favorite.
A folded note rested inside.
Dileia recognized the handwriting immediately.
“Oh my God.”
Adriano approached.
“What?”
“This is hers.”
“Renata’s?”
Dileia nodded.
She unfolded the note.
Three sentences.
Dileia, if anything happens to me, do not trust the man who brings Adriano numbers. The truth is where I kept the stories you hated. Tell my brother I was trying to come home.
Adriano read it twice.
“The man who brings me numbers.”
“Calder.”
“Yes.”
Toby looked between them.
“Who is Renata?”
Dileia whispered:
“Someone I couldn’t save.”
Adriano’s voice was firm.
“You kept her alive longer than anyone expected.”
Dileia looked at him.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“Her medical records.”
“You read them?”
“I read everything after she died.”
Dileia sat down.
Adriano took the paperback from the box.
“The truth is where I kept the stories you hated.”
Dileia frowned.
“She kept books everywhere.”
“What did you hate?”
“Crime novels.”
Toby stared.
“You hate crime novels?”
“They’re ridiculous.”
Adriano gave her a look.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“You’re currently standing beside a man everyone thinks runs organized crime.”
“And?”
“And you’re criticizing crime fiction.”
Toby laughed.
Dileia glared at both men.
Then stopped.
“Wait.”
Adriano became serious.
“What?”
“Renata had twelve detective novels.”
“Where?”
“Under her bed.”
“Why there?”
“She said the endings annoyed her, so she wanted them where she couldn’t see them.”
Adriano was already calling Marco.
“Dorchester property. Renata’s old apartment. Who owns it now?”
A pause.
Marco answered through the speaker.
“Falcone Holdings.”
Adriano’s eyes hardened.
“Since when?”
“Three years ago.”
“Who authorized the purchase?”
Another pause.
“Vincent Calder.”
Dileia stood.
“We need to go.”
“No.”
She stared.
“What?”
Adriano put his phone away.
“You and Toby go somewhere secure.”
“You don’t even know what you’re looking for.”
“You do.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s why you tell me.”
“No.”
Adriano’s jaw tightened.
“Dileia.”
“Renata left that message for me.”
“She also told you not to trust Calder.”
“I don’t.”
“And you think walking into a property he controls is sensible?”
“I think whatever she hid matters.”
They stared at each other.
Toby raised his hand.
“Just observing here.”
Neither looked at him.
“You two argue like you’ve been married for twelve years.”
Dileia turned.
“Bedroom.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Toby disappeared.
Adriano rubbed his jaw.
“He’s funny.”
“He’s grounded.”
“Why?”
“For being funny.”
Adriano’s phone buzzed.
Marco again.
“Boss, we have another problem.”
“What?”
“The Foster debt file was accessed twenty minutes ago.”
“By whom?”
“Calder’s office.”
Adriano’s face darkened.
“And?”
“The balance just changed.”
Dileia felt cold.
“To what?”
Marco answered.
“Four hundred thousand.”
Dileia stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Adriano’s gaze became lethal.
“No.”
He looked toward the window.
May you like
“It’s desperation.”
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