Chapter 5 - THE FIRE AT ROSA'S BAKERY|
“Gabriel, get someone to that bakery now!” Luca shouted.
Gabriel was already reaching for his phone.
Detective Shaw stepped forward.
“I'm notifying the fire department and patrol officers.”
“Neither of you is going inside until the building has been secured.”
Luca looked ready to argue.
Then Oliver slipped his small hand into his father's.
“Daddy, are you leaving again?”
The question stopped him.
For two years, Luca had left whenever things became difficult.
He disappeared into meetings, business trips, and rooms where his little boy wasn't allowed to follow.
But tonight, for the first time, he knelt instead of walking away.
“I'm going to help find out what happened to Mommy.”
Oliver looked down at his teddy bear.
“Will you come back?”
Luca swallowed.
“Yes, buddy.”
He kissed his son's forehead.
“And Claire is coming with me.”
I looked at him in surprise.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“You knew Isabella better than anyone in this house during her final weeks.”
His eyes softened.
“And I trust you.”
It was the first time he had ever said those words to me.
Forty minutes later, we arrived near Rosa's Bakery in Chicago's Little Italy neighborhood.
Flashing red lights illuminated the narrow street.
Smoke poured from a second-floor window.
Firefighters moved quickly around the old brick building while neighbors watched from across the road.
My heart sank.
Isabella had loved this place.
Every Sunday, she bought Oliver a cinnamon roll and insisted on paying even when the owners tried to give it to her for free.
She believed places filled with love deserved to survive.
Now flames were consuming one of the few places where her memory still felt alive.
Luca stepped out of the car.
“No,” he whispered.
He stared at the burning bakery.
“This is where she said yes.”
I stood beside him.
“Where you proposed?”
He nodded.
“She was twenty-four.”
“She had flour on her cheek because she'd been helping her grandmother make bread.”
He gave a broken laugh.
“I had a diamond ring in my pocket, but she made me finish washing the dishes before she'd listen to anything I said.”
For a moment, I saw the man Isabella had loved.
Not the feared businessman.
Not the powerful head of the Moretti family.
Just a young husband remembering the happiest moment of his life.
Then Detective Shaw approached.
“The building was empty when the fire started.”
I exhaled in relief.
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No.”
“But witnesses saw a woman leaving through the alley.”
“Vivienne?” Luca asked.
“We haven't confirmed her identity.”
Shaw showed us a photograph taken from a neighboring security camera.
The woman wore the same expensive earrings Vivienne had worn at dinner.
There was no mistaking her.
Luca clenched his fists.
“She knew about the bakery.”
I shook my head.
“Mrs. Isabella never talked about it in front of her.”
“Then Matteo told her.”
An older firefighter approached the detective.
“There's a metal security compartment in the rear wall.”
“It appears undamaged, but we'll need the scene cleared before investigators can remove it.”
I stared at him.
“Did you say a security compartment?”
He nodded.
“Built into the masonry.”
Luca looked toward the smoking bakery.
“Isabella's grandmother kept family papers in a little wall safe.”
“She used to say nobody would steal from a place that smelled like cinnamon.”
I almost smiled through my tears.
“That sounds exactly like her.”
Detective Shaw warned us that the compartment might contain evidence and needed to be handled properly.
Luca agreed immediately.
We waited while firefighters extinguished the remaining flames.
The sky began to pale above the rooftops.
By sunrise, investigators had recovered a rectangular metal box from the rear storage room.
It was blackened by smoke, but its locking mechanism remained intact.
The box was taken to a secure police facility, where Detective Shaw arranged for us to witness its examination.
When a technician asked about the combination, Luca looked at me.
“Four-one-seven.”
The lock opened.
Inside were several sealed envelopes, a flash drive, and a thin blue notebook.
On the notebook's cover, Isabella had written two words.
FOR OLIVER.
Luca touched the cover with trembling fingers.
Detective Shaw photographed the contents before allowing him to read the first page under her supervision.
Isabella's familiar handwriting filled the paper.
My darling boy, if you're reading this someday, please know that everything I did was to keep you safe.
Luca covered his mouth.
He turned the page.
There were dates, company names, payment records, and handwritten notes.
Then he reached an envelope sealed with a tiny golden star.
My name was written across the front.
CLAIRE BENNETT.
My breath caught.
“Why would she leave something for me?”
Luca looked at the envelope for a long moment.
Then he handed it toward Detective Shaw so she could document it.
When the detective finished, she allowed me to open it.
Inside was a letter written two days before Isabella died.
The first line made me begin to cry.
Claire, if Luca is reading this beside you, it means you kept the promise I was too frightened to explain.
May you like
And the final line made me realize Isabella had trusted me with something far more important than a teddy bear.
Please tell Luca the truth about his brother, even if he hates me for knowing it.
