Chapter 5 - The Brother Nobody Wanted to Call|
Matteo remained motionless after the phone call ended.
Outside the study windows, November rain streaked the glass.
The mansion's antique grandfather clock struck midnight.
I thought of Evelyn sleeping upstairs in her husband's coat.
According to the contract, she was supposed to be gone already.
But she was still home.
That felt like a small victory.
It also felt terribly temporary.
Matteo looked at me.
"Anna, has Mom been to a doctor recently?"
"Dr. Bennett examined her three weeks ago."
"Was there anything wrong?"
"Her arthritis was bothering her, but she was otherwise doing well."
"Any concerns about her memory?"
"Not that I heard."
He nodded slowly.
"Then someone's trying to create a medical problem she doesn't have."
Mara had explained that the guardianship petition could be challenged.
But the filing itself was dangerous.
If accepted, it might allow someone else to make decisions for Evelyn before the property dispute was resolved.
Matteo looked toward his father's photograph on the wall.
Then he reached for his phone.
"There's somebody I need to call."
I thought he meant the attorney again.
Instead, he opened a contact saved under a single name.
Gabriel.
His younger brother.
I had heard about Gabriel Russo but never met him.
He was thirty-eight, worked in financial auditing, and lived in Boston.
According to Rosa, he had barely visited Chicago in three years.
The call rang four times.
Then a tired male voice answered.
"Matteo?"
"Gabe, I need you."
Silence.
Then, "Is Mom okay?"
"She's safe."
"What happened?"
Matteo glanced toward me.
"Someone tried to sell her house."
"What?"
"And Luca's involved."
Gabriel swore under his breath.
"Tell me that's a joke."
"I wish it were."
A long silence followed.
Then Gabriel said something I hadn't expected.
"I knew something was wrong."
Matteo straightened.
"What do you mean?"
"Mom stopped calling me six weeks ago."
"She probably thought you were busy."
"No."
Gabriel's voice hardened.
"She never goes six weeks without calling."
He explained that he had received several strange messages from her number.
They said she needed space.
They said she was tired of feeling abandoned by her children.
They even suggested he shouldn't visit at Christmas.
Matteo frowned.
"Mom wouldn't say that."
"Exactly."
Gabriel hesitated.
"And when I called the house, Scarlett told me Mom was having memory problems."
My heart sank.
The same story.
The same convenient explanation.
Matteo asked, "Did you speak to Mom?"
"Twice."
"Did she sound confused?"
"She sounded frightened."
Gabriel's voice broke slightly.
"She kept asking whether you were angry with her."
Matteo closed his eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I tried."
"What?"
"I sent you three emails."
Matteo reached for his laptop.
There were no messages from Gabriel in his inbox.
Gabriel gave him the dates.
Matteo searched again.
Nothing.
Then he checked an old business account managed by his executive assistant.
There they were.
Three messages.
All marked as read.
None forwarded to his personal address.
Matteo stared at the screen.
His assistant had been reassigned by Scarlett two months earlier.
Suddenly, the household changes I had barely noticed seemed frighteningly deliberate.
Gabriel spoke again.
"I'm getting on the first flight."
Matteo exhaled.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me."
Gabriel's voice became firm.
"Just tell Mom I'm coming home."
When the call ended, Matteo remained seated.
He looked exhausted.
For years, he had been the man everyone in the mansion feared disappointing.
Yet someone had isolated his mother, silenced his brother, forged his signature, and prepared to sell his home.
And nobody had told him until a maid refused to remove an old woman's coat.
"Anna," he said quietly, "why did you stand up to Scarlett?"
The question surprised me.
I thought about my paycheck.
My mother's therapy bills.
The fear that had made my hands shake when Scarlett fired me.
"Because your mother was scared."
Matteo waited.
"And because she was more worried about me losing my job than about herself losing her home."
He lowered his head.
"That sounds like Mom."
I nodded.
"She told me something once."
"What?"
"That people don't stop needing kindness just because they get old."
Matteo stared at the photograph of his parents.
Then his expression hardened.
"I need to find out exactly what Luca did."
I hesitated.
"Mr. Russo, do you think your brother wanted to hurt her?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said, "I think Luca is hiding something."
My phone suddenly rang.
It was Rosa calling from upstairs.
I answered.
"Rosa?"
Her voice shook.
"Anna, please come quickly."
"What's wrong?"
"Mrs. Russo is awake."
I stood.
"Is she all right?"
"She's asking for Matteo."
I looked at him.
He was already moving toward the door.
Then Rosa whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"She says Luca came to her room yesterday."
I gripped the phone.
"Why?"
"She says he begged her to sign those papers."
"And?"
Rosa began crying.
"She says Luca told her that if she didn't sign, somebody was going to hurt his daughter."
Matteo stopped in the doorway.
His niece, nineteen-year-old Nadia Russo, was studying at Northwestern University.
May you like
And suddenly, the sale of the mansion no longer looked like an ordinary act of greed.
It looked like someone had placed a price on the safety of Matteo's family.
