Chapter 37 Lena
LENA
Aldo gestures at my neck. “Are you wearing it now? Can you show me?” The necklace.
I find the chain beneath my sweater and pull out the pendant so it’s visible.
Aldo’s eyes widen. “Could you—would you mind taking it off?” When I hesitate, he adds, “I won’t steal it from you, I promise.”
“No. You won’t.” Rem’s reassurance is what I need. Unclasping the chain, I carefully place the piece of jewelry in Aldo’s outstretched palm.
His fist tightens around it reflexively, the gold vanishing from sight.
Then, without looking down, he strokes his thumb over the pendant again and again.
“It was my great-grandmother’s,” he eventually says.
“Passed down through my family for generations. I gave it to Maria when we first fell in love, before we were forced apart.” Aldo drops his chin, his eyes closing.
“She was wearing it the night I found her beaten bloody in the hospital. She told me she’d worn it every day since I’d given it to her, that she’d wear it every day until she died. ”
“She did,” Rem says. “After she passed away, the nuns at the hospital made sure Lena had it when they sent her to the orphanage. Maria refused to sell it when she ran away. My contact, the one who gave Maria her new identity, said it was the only thing she kept from her old life.”
“That, and my daughter,” Aldo says, gaze lifting to mine.
“To answer one of your many, many questions, my dear—the necklace was how I found you. A woman named Mable Fisher had the clasp repaired not long ago. Lucky for me, I’d circulated pictures of it all around the region after Maria disappeared.
I was sure she’d pawn it to fund her escape.
The design is distinctive, very old. The quality of the craftsmanship remarkable.
Enough to be memorable, at least to the jewelers who repaired it.
The man who fixed the clasp mentioned the pendant to his father, a retired jeweler who’d kept the business in the family.
It took the older man some time to figure out why the necklace struck a chord, but once he did, word eventually made its way back to me. ”
“After all this time?” I ask.
“It’s amazing what the right type of motivation can do.”
“Threats and violence?”
Aldo shakes his head. “Money, Lena. People will remember a great number of things if you compensate them well.”
“Right.” Somewhere in the house a clock chimes.
It’s getting late, and, like an animal suddenly waking from hibernation, my stomach lets out a monstrous growl.
Both men startle and, if I wasn’t so exhausted, hungry, and mentally muddled, I’d laugh.
Big bad mafia men scared by my little old stomach.
“This day has been endless, really fucking shitty, and since you’re both to blame, you two owe me several things. ”
“Fire away, piccola.”
“Food. Sleep. The promise I won’t be held prisoner here. And answers to the rest of my questions.”
Rem and Aldo exchange a look, then Rem pulls out his phone. He’s typing a message to someone as he says, “Doing it now, absolutely, never, and my uncle is happy to tell you anything else you want to know.”
“Excellent.” I pluck my necklace out from Aldo’s hand, slipping it into my jean’s pocket. “So, say I believe you. The jeweler saw the necklace and told you about it. But how does that convince you I’m your daughter?”
Aldo relaxes into his chair, his hands laced on top of his knees.
“DNA. After finding out who’d brought the necklace in for repair, I had my men do some recon.
They were able to get hair samples from Signora Fisher’s house months before the fire.
I was sorry to hear about that, by the way. Hers was a senseless death.”
I go cold. “Did you kill her?”
Aldo doesn’t blink. “No, absolutely not. But I have been looking into it.”
“Have you found anything?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet, but we will. If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I answer. “I want the truth, whatever it might be. And, speaking of—the DNA test. What does it show?”
“That you and I are blood related, no room for doubt. That I am your biological father.”
The air leaves my lungs in a rush. We’ve been dancing around guesses and theories and suppositions, but Aldo has the proof. The DNA test that doesn’t lie. “You’ll show me the results?” I ask.
“I will.”
“And, obviously, we’ll do another one, with samples taken from both of us in each other’s presence and tested by a second lab, so we can be sure?”
“Yes, Lena. We will do it again. As many times as you need.”
Holy shit. I’m not sure I can wrap my head around the reality of this. That after twenty-two years of not knowing where I came from, I’m sitting three feet from my biological father, married to his adopted nephew, Rem….
Proverbial tires screech as a new question comes to mind. “Why did you order Rem to find Maria now?”
“I heard rumors,” Aldo says. “They started several months ago. Given the vile nature of them, I believe they came from Maria’s husband’s family.
He was the one who beat her, but they were the ones humiliated, wronged by her leaving, even after all this time.
Recently they’ve been spreading nasty rumors, none of which I’ll repeat, but the one about her having a child stuck with me.
I couldn’t let it go. I needed to know if there was any chance I had a son or daughter in the world.
You’ve seen what family is to us, Lena. I couldn’t live not knowing if you existed.
Not to mention that other families—some allies, some enemies—were hearing the same rumors.
I couldn’t let them get to you first. So, I tasked my best man—Rem—with finding Maria and I made sure he was motivated to do it quickly.
Said she had betrayed us. I never had hopes he’d find her alive, but I was praying he’d stumble across evidence of you along the way. Anything to help me find you.”
Rem curses. “You should’ve told me the truth, Uncle. Should’ve told me who I was really looking for and why. It would’ve saved us a fuck ton of trouble.”
“Forgive an old man.” Aldo doesn’t look the least bit repentant. “I didn’t want anyone knowing that Lena might truly exist, not before I was certain myself.”
Rem, who has been protectively perched on the armrest, suddenly stands.
“But wait—you did know Lena existed. You and Ari have known of Lena’s existence for months.
Maybe you didn’t know she was your biological daughter, but you knew her.
Where she worked, where she lived. What she looked like.
You knew her by name. Ages before the house fire. ”
For the first time tonight, Aldo looks genuinely surprised.
“No,” he says, standing to meet Rem. “I assure you I didn’t.
I was able to track a DNA connection to a woman who infrequently visited the Fisher residence, but did not live there.
That was the limit of my information, where my search for my daughter hit a dead end.
Which is why I’ve been pushing you so hard for answers.
I didn’t know the name Lena Haywood until very recently.
It never came up in any research into Mable Fisher. ”
“He’s right, it wouldn’t,” I say, rising from the sofa. “Unless you already knew my connection to the Haywoods and found Aunt Mable through them, like a reverse search, you’d struggle to know that she and I were connected in any way.”
“But if you didn’t make the connection, who did?” Rem asks. “Because someone did. Someone with better intel than me. I only knew through my…” Rem pauses, looking for a word that won’t enrage his uncle, my father.
“Your investigation,” I prompt.
“Yeah,” Rem says. “I knew through my investigation Lena was supposed to be away from her apartment that night, outside of Chicago. Once I cleared her intended destination with any ties to the Paganos, I didn’t look give it another look. But someone did.”
He looks at me, continuing, “If the fire at Mabel’s house wasn’t an accident, if it was intentionally set to burn the house down on the one night you were supposed to be there, then someone absolutely knew the connection between you and Mabel.
Not only that, but they were so determined to kill you that night they weren’t taking any chances.
Which is why, in the time between the fire starting and you learning about it on the news, that person sent an assassin to shoot you in your own apartment.
That person hired the Arkhangel to finish the job because you didn’t die with your aunt like you were supposed to. ”
“Wait.” Aldo grips Rem’s forearm, that one word so forceful. “Go back. What do you mean Lena was supposed to be in the house when it burned down?”
“Exactly that,” I answer. “I was scheduled to visit Aunt Mable that night, but a last-minute audition came up and I had to cancel on her. It’s sheer luck I wasn’t in the house when it caught fire.”
Aldo squeezes Rem’s arm until his fingertips go white. “Second question, and this one Rem has to answer—why are you so sure I knew Lena prior to the Fisher fire?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Rem is pissed, enough that he looks like he wants to hit the old man.
“You and Ari have been all over Lena for months. Convinced she was working for the Paganos. Convinced she posed a threat to the Family. Ari showed me photo after photo, video after video, all evidence that you collected showing she was a threat that needed to be eliminated. That’s why Ari said you issued the hit. ”
Aldo stares at Rem, his jaw flickering in a way that tells me something is really fucking off. “When?” he grinds out. “When did Ari say I issued a hit against Lena?”
“About eight, nine weeks ago. I was in his office. He’d just gotten off the phone with you.
You’d both agreed. I was to take her out, make it look like she’d never existed.
Lupara bianca. But I said no. I didn’t think the evidence held up and I had no intention of taking out a woman without being one thousand percent sure she was guilty.
So I refused, said I would do surveillance instead.
That I’d get to the bottom of what she was and wasn’t doing, the hit called off till then.
And you guys agreed,” Rem insists. “Ari said you both agreed.”
Aldo releases his nephew’s arm, stumbling back like he’s been shoved. In this moment he looks every bit of his age, pale and disconcertingly fragile. He turns to me. “You knew about this hit?”
I nod.
“And that’s what you meant earlier, when you said I’d ordered Rem to kill you?”
I nod again.
“Vaffanculo,” Aldo says to no one in particular. Then, to me, “Setting that aside for one moment, and barring a second opinion from another lab, do you believe what I’ve said about our relationship? That I am your biological father?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what to believe any more. But…” I look at Rem, my heart squeezing dangerously hard for him. “But I’m not leaving this family any time soon, so I’ll accept it’s what you believe and agree to do a second test to confirm.”
Aldo nods. “Bene. I appreciate your honesty, Lena. And I apologize for the way this evening has progressed. When I collected you from the hotel, I only wanted a chance to meet you. To tell you what I’d learned in the safe confines of my own home, away from distraction or threat. If only I knew then what I do now.”
“Wait—how did you know I was at the hotel?” I ask. “Or that Rem and I are married? Did Ari tell you?”
Aldo’s laugh is humorless. “No, he most certainly did not. But, as I said before, there’s little that happens in my city that I don’t know about. Especially when I have Agata to keep me informed.”
“The old lady who makes the omelets?” I practically squeak.
“Not how I would choose to describe her, but yes.”
“Fucking bastard.” Rem is most definitely talking to his uncle. Who, again, is entirely unbothered by his nephew’s anger.
“A point to be discussed later. But Agata is a valuable asset. She was the one who pieced together that Lena and my daughter were one in the same. She saw you wearing the necklace. Knew it could only come from one place. And, through sheer luck, she was at Bianca and Johnny’s house today helping with a large catering order when Rem called Johnny, instructing him to take Lena to the hotel. ”
Aldo gives me what I think it supposed to be an apologetic look.
“Lena, I came for you tonight because it was the first time you were away from the penthouse since Agata confirmed you had Maria’s necklace.
I’d already come back from Italy early, anxious to see you, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet you away from your overbearing husband. ”
Rem drags his hands through his hair, spitting out a slew of curses. He pins his uncle with a hard glare. “You are a conniving, manipulative pain in the ass.”
“No,” Aldo says, jaw ticking. “I am good at my job.”
“Which is?” I take Rem’s hand before he tackles the old man to the ground.
“Protecting my family. Speaking of which…” A murderous look sharpens every angle of Aldo’s face. “I think I know who is trying to kill Lena.”
“Who?” we say in unison.
“Your brother. Ari.”