Chapter 3 - THE MUSIC BOX MY MOTHER NEVER LET ME OPEN|
"Don't you dare mention my daughter again."
The words escaped my mouth before I remembered who was listening.
Adrian turned toward me.
His phone was still pressed against his ear.
Across the line, Matteo Rinaldi gave a low chuckle.
"So Lucia's daughter has her mother's temper."
I felt Sophie flinch against my leg.
For twenty-six years, I'd never heard that man's voice.
But somehow, he knew my name.
My daughter's name.
And the one possession my mother had begged me never to sell.
Adrian stepped closer to the table.
"Matteo, you're going to explain what's happening."
"Of course, son."
"Don't call me that."
A long silence followed.
Then Matteo laughed quietly.
"I practically raised you."
"And apparently lied to me every day."
"Careful, Adrian."
His voice hardened.
"There are things you don't understand."
"Then come here and explain them."
"Not tonight."
"Why?"
"Because your little sister has something that belongs to me."
I felt my stomach twist.
The music box.
The little wooden box Sophie kept beside her bed.
My mother had given it to me three days before she died.
I still remembered the hospital room.
The pale morning sunlight.
The machines humming beside her bed.
And the way her fingers had trembled when she placed the box in my hands.
"Elena, promise me you'll keep this."
I'd smiled through my tears.
"Of course, Mama."
"Even if someone offers you money."
"I promise."
She'd squeezed my hand.
"And never let anyone take the bird."
At the time, I'd thought she was confused by medication.
Now I realized she had been trying to tell me something.
Something she'd carried for nearly three decades.
Adrian spoke into the phone.
"If you want the box, you can speak to me."
Matteo sighed.
"You're making this unnecessarily difficult."
"You're threatening a child."
"I'm advising you to be sensible."
"No."
Adrian's voice became colder.
"You're finished giving orders in my home."
Matteo was quiet.
Then he said, "You sound very much like your father."
Adrian stiffened.
"Don't bring him into this."
"Why not?"
"Because he's dead."
"Yes."
A pause.
"And dead men are convenient, aren't they?"
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"What does that mean?"
Matteo didn't answer.
Instead, he said, "Midnight tomorrow."
Adrian looked toward me.
"What?"
"I want the music box."
"You're not getting anything until you tell me the truth."
Matteo chuckled.
"Then perhaps you should ask Vanessa why she agreed to help me."
Vanessa covered her face.
Adrian looked at her.
"What did you do?"
But Matteo had already ended the call.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Adrian placed his phone on the table.
The screen went dark.
I could hear Sophie's breathing against my apron.
My daughter was exhausted.
She'd barely eaten.
And the night had become something no five-year-old should have to endure.
"Mr. Moretti?"
Adrian turned immediately.
"Adrian," he corrected gently.
I swallowed.
"I need to take Sophie home."
His expression changed.
"Elena, I don't think that's safe tonight."
Fear rushed through me.
"Then where am I supposed to take her?"
He hesitated.
"You can stay here."
I stared at him.
"In the mansion?"
"Yes."
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"Of course."
Adrian ignored her.
He looked toward Mrs. Carter.
"Margaret, is the east guest suite ready?"
The housekeeper nodded.
"It can be prepared in ten minutes."
I immediately shook my head.
"No."
Adrian looked surprised.
I tightened my hold on Sophie's hand.
"I'm sorry, but I can't stay in a room where I don't know who has the keys."
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he nodded.
"Fair enough."
Vanessa scoffed.
"She's acting as though we're keeping her prisoner."
Adrian turned toward her.
"You were the one who wanted her thrown out with a sick child."
Vanessa stopped smiling.
He looked back at me.
"Elena, you can decide where to stay."
I swallowed.
"Thank you."
"But I'd like Frank to help make sure you get there safely."
I looked toward the security manager.
Frank stood quietly beside the doorway.
He didn't approach.
Didn't reach for my daughter.
Didn't tell me what to do.
He simply nodded.
"If you'd like, ma'am."
I finally took a breath.
"Okay."
Mrs. Carter returned carrying a small plate.
Scrambled eggs.
Toast.
And a glass of apple juice.
Sophie immediately looked up.
"Mommy, food."
My heart broke.
Mrs. Carter crouched.
"Would you like to sit at the little table in the morning room?"
Sophie glanced at Vanessa.
Then whispered, "Am I allowed?"
Nobody moved.
Mrs. Carter's eyes filled.
"Of course, sweetheart."
She smiled gently.
"You may sit in a chair whenever you need one."
Sophie looked toward me.
I nodded.
"Go ahead, honey."
But she wouldn't release my hand.
So I walked with her.
Adrian followed at a respectful distance.
We entered the morning room.
It was smaller than the formal dining room.
There were cream-colored couches, a marble fireplace, and a round table near the windows.
Sophie sat carefully in one of the chairs.
Then looked around.
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Is this a good chair?"
I felt tears burn my eyes.
Before I could answer, Adrian pulled out the chair beside her.
He sat down.
"Excellent chair."
Sophie studied him.
"Really?"
"Absolutely."
He pointed toward his own chair.
"I think yours is more comfortable than mine."
She smiled faintly.
Then began eating.
I watched every bite.
After a few minutes, the color returned to her cheeks.
Her little hands stopped trembling.
Adrian looked toward me.
"Does this happen often?"
I swallowed.
"The dizziness?"
He nodded.
"Sometimes."
"Has she been diagnosed?"
"Not yet."
I looked down.
"We've had several appointments, but the doctors want more tests."
His expression softened.
"Are you able to get them?"
I hesitated.
"We're working on it."
Adrian nodded slowly.
He didn't offer money.
Didn't make a grand promise.
He simply said, "If you need time away from work for her appointments, take it."
I stared at him.
"Miss Bellini said—"
"I know."
His jaw tightened.
"That won't happen again."
For several minutes, we sat quietly.
Then Sophie looked toward Adrian's hand.
She noticed the burn scar.
"Does that hurt?"
He glanced down.
"Not anymore."
She touched the small scar on my wrist.
"Mommy has one."
Adrian looked at me.
I felt my throat tighten.
Sophie continued.
"Grandma said Mommy got it when she was a baby."
Adrian swallowed.
"That's right."
My daughter looked between us.
"Did you get burned together?"
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Adrian nodded.
"I think we did."
Sophie considered this.
Then asked the question neither of us was ready for.
"Are you Mommy's brother?"
Adrian stared at her.
I couldn't breathe.
Finally, he smiled sadly.
"I hope so, sweetheart."
Sophie frowned.
"Why don't you know?"
He looked toward me.
"Because sometimes grown-ups lose each other."
She thought about that.
Then whispered, "Like Grandma?"
My eyes filled.
"Yes, honey."
Sophie took another bite of toast.
Then looked at Adrian.
"Maybe you can find each other again."
He closed his eyes.
For the first time that night, I saw tears gather beneath his lashes.
"Maybe we can."
Later, after Sophie had fallen asleep against my shoulder, Adrian and I returned to the dining room.
Vanessa remained near the fireplace.
Frank stood beside the door.
Adrian looked at her.
"Why did Matteo hire you?"
She swallowed.
"He said there was a woman who had something valuable."
"Did he tell you she was my sister?"
Vanessa hesitated.
"Not at first."
"When did you learn?"
"Before I hired her."
Adrian's expression hardened.
"So you knew."
She began crying.
"Adrian, I was trying to protect you."
"By humiliating Elena?"
"By getting the box before Matteo became desperate."
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you just ask?"
Vanessa looked at me.
"I did."
"You offered five thousand dollars."
"Yes."
"And when I refused, you threatened my job."
She looked down.
"Yes."
Adrian took a slow breath.
"Did Matteo tell you what was inside?"
Vanessa nodded.
"A recording."
"Of what?"
She swallowed.
"I never heard it."
"Then why does he want it?"
Her voice became small.
"Because he believes your mother hid evidence that could destroy everything he built."
Adrian stared at her.
"What evidence?"
Vanessa shook her head.
"I don't know."
He studied her for a long moment.
Then turned toward Frank.
"Please escort Miss Bellini to her room while arrangements are made for her departure."
Vanessa looked up sharply.
"Adrian!"
He faced her.
"Our engagement is over."
She stumbled backward.
"No."
"I won't marry someone who concealed my sister's identity and threatened her child."
Vanessa began sobbing.
"I love you."
Adrian looked at her.
"Then you should have told me the truth."
He removed the engagement ring she'd placed in his hand earlier.
Set it on the table.
And walked away.
I stood motionless.
Seven months earlier, I'd entered the Moretti mansion looking for a job.
Now the engagement was over.
My employer might be my brother.
A powerful stranger had threatened my daughter.
And the answer to everything was hidden inside a music box in our tiny apartment.
Adrian stopped beside me.
"Elena?"
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"We need to find out what's inside that box."
I nodded.
"Tomorrow."
He studied my face.
"Are you sure?"
I thought about my mother.
The way she'd held my hand in the hospital.
The fear in her eyes when she'd told me never to give away the blue bird.
Then I looked toward Sophie, sleeping peacefully on the couch.
"No," I whispered.
Adrian frowned.
"What?"
I took a breath.
"I don't want to wait until tomorrow."
His expression changed.
I looked directly at him.
"My mother spent twenty-six years hiding from someone."
I swallowed.
"And whoever that person is, he knows where my daughter lives."
Adrian nodded slowly.
"Then we do this tonight."
Twenty minutes later, Frank drove us to my apartment.
Adrian sat beside me in the back seat.
Sophie slept in her car seat.
Neither of us spoke.
When we reached the building, I noticed something strange.
The hallway light outside my apartment was off.
It had been working that morning.
I stopped.
Adrian noticed.
"What's wrong?"
I looked toward my door.
It was slightly open.
My heart stopped.
"I locked that."
Frank immediately stepped forward.
"Stay here."
He called the police and kept us away from the entrance.
When officers arrived and checked the apartment, they confirmed that someone had entered.
My drawers were open.
My mother's photographs had been scattered across the floor.
And Sophie's bedroom looked as though a storm had passed through it.
Her stuffed animals lay everywhere.
The mattress had been lifted.
Her little pink blanket was on the floor.
I rushed to the bedside table.
The music box was gone.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Then I saw something beneath the bed.
A little blue wooden bird.
It had broken away from the box.
I picked it up with trembling hands.
Adrian crouched beside me.
"Elena?"
I turned it over.
There was a tiny crack beneath one wing.
My mother had always told me never to pull on the bird.
But now it had come loose.
Inside the hollow wooden body was a small metal cylinder.
Adrian stared at it.
"What is that?"
I carefully slid it free.
It was no bigger than a lipstick tube.
And engraved along the side were three words.
FOR MY CHILDREN.
I looked at Adrian.
His face changed.
Then the cylinder slipped open in my palm.
Inside was a tiny key.
And a folded strip of paper.
May you like
On it, in my mother's handwriting, were four words.
DON'T TRUST THE GRAVE.
