Chapter 3 – THE ROSARY OF TRUTH

“Why is my mother’s name on this ticket?”

My voice echoed in the grand foyer.

It was 2:00 AM. The estate was crawling with Luca’s loyal men. Carmine was tied to a chair in the study, refusing to speak. Vanessa had been intercepted at the gates and was locked in the guest wing.

Luca stood by the fireplace, pouring a glass of whiskey for his father, who was finally wearing his warm blue cardigan and slippers.

Luca turned to me, his brow furrowed. “What did you say, Rachel?”

I walked forward, my hands trembling, and handed him the train ticket.

“My mother’s name. Helen Bennett. It’s written on the back.”

Luca stared at the ink. He looked at Giuseppe.

The old man took a sip of the whiskey, his color slowly returning. He looked at me with immense sorrow.

“Your mother… Helen,” Giuseppe whispered slowly. “She was a nurse.”

“Yes,” I said, my heart pounding. “She used to work at St. Jude’s private ward before she got sick.”

Giuseppe closed his eyes. “Fifteen years ago… Carmine paid St. Jude’s to keep my wife hidden in their secure psychiatric wing. He needed a nurse to keep her sedated.”

The room started to spin.

“No,” I said, backing away. “My mother is a good person. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t keep a woman hostage.”

“She didn’t know who she was,” Luca said quietly, piecing it together. “Carmine would have used a fake name. A Jane Doe.”

“But she found out,” Giuseppe rasped. “Two weeks ago. Helen saw the old news reports… recognized my wife’s face.”

Giuseppe looked at me, tears in his eyes.

“Your mother is the one who smuggled Anthony Russo inside to see her. Your mother is the one who helped my wife get that message to the camera.”

I couldn’t breathe. My mother’s sudden “illness” that forced her to quit working two weeks ago. The mysterious men parked across our street. The sudden medical bills that had drained my bank account.

It wasn’t an illness. She had been poisoned. Carmine was silencing her.

“Rachel,” Luca said gently, stepping toward me. “Where is your mother right now?”

“She’s at home,” I panicked. “My younger brother is with her.”

Luca’s phone buzzed. He answered it, listening for only three seconds before his face turned to stone.

He hung up.

“Daniel just checked on Carmine’s phone,” Luca said, his voice flat. “Carmine didn’t just order my mother transferred to Chicago tonight.”

My stomach plummeted. “What else did he order?”

Luca looked me dead in the eyes.

“He ordered his men to burn your mother’s house down. And the fire started ten minutes ago.”

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