Page 53 of Family Secrets

Angry tears burned the back of her eyes, she’d woken up in the guest room the next morning, her memory full of holes.

“Do you recall the conversation we had during dinner? The one where you showed me the ring you found with your Nona’s belongings?”

Reaching up, Elizabeth pulled the ring from the confines of her dress. “Yes.”

“You showed me the inscription, but I lied to you when I said it was too faded to make out. It’s written in Italian, a promise from the man to the woman he gave it to.”

Elizabeth took the ring between her fingers, rubbing the lettering he spoke of.

“The crest on the side belongs to the Vittorio Family. When you left the table, I placed a call to my mother, inquiring whether her friend, and Emilio’s deceased wife, wore such a ring, which she confirmed.”

Elizabeth’s eyes shot to Emilio, the heartbreak of losing the love of his life etched in his features. Pulling the chain from around her neck, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Vittorio, here…” Extending her hand to him, the chain dangled between her fingers.

“No, Elizabeth,” Emilio raised his hand. “Please, let Gino continue and then decide.”

Nodding her head, Elizabeth pulled her hand away, laying the ring on the table between them.

“Once you fell asleep, I had an associate of mine who works for a laboratory come in and take several swabs from the inside of your cheek.”

Elizabeth’s tongue immediately went to her cheek, examining the area for any abnormalities.

“A few years ago, my friend Emilio found himself in an interesting situation involving a young lady who claimed her child was his. While the baby’s DNA was not a match,” Gino reached inside his jacket pocket pulling out a sheet of paper, the information which had plagued him since he’d learned the truth. “Yours was.”

Elizabeth felt overwhelmed and elated at the same time. Gino held her hand, slowly drifting his thumb across her knuckles. Emilio wanted to hug her, to make sure she was real, but he knew his eagerness would scare her.

Staring at the block lettering, the truth of who she was reflected back at her. “I never knew who my mother was, Granny said I favored her.”

“The eyes,” Emilio added, unable to resist. Nicole’s blue eyes were the first thing that caught his attention.

“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed, pleased to hear the hint of joy in Emilio’s voice.

“Your Nona was right. Nicole, your mother, had the most vibrant blue eyes, just like yours. Her hair was the color of the night,” shifting a glance in Gino’s direction. “I loved her from the first moment I saw her.” Emilio picked up the ring from the table, “I gave her this ring on our wedding night. Something my father, and his father before him, did for their wives.”

“Can I ask what happened…to my mother?”

Emilio reached for his glass of wine, downing the red liquid in a single swallow. Never in his life did he think he would have to have this conversation.

“Shortly after Jonathan returned from Sicily, someone began sending threats to myself and your mother. At first, I assumed it was someone who had an issue with us, but when I put out the word for a sit-down, no one responded.” Emilio recalled how Jonathan sent his younger brother, Johnny, and Saul, a guy the three of them grew up with, out into the neighborhood to ask questions.

“The notes shifted to photographs of Nicole going about her day. That’s when I took things seriously, sending her away with a man who’d worked for us for years. I gave him instructions to hide her where no one old find them. When he failed to check-in, I knew something was wrong. By the time I got to the house, they were gone. I’ve searched for years, for any trace of her and Morti Rizzoli.”

Elizabeth’s breath hitched, reaching across the table for her father’s hand. “Wait, did you say Morti Rizzoli?”

“Yes, did you know him?” Elation filled his chest, if he could find Morti, he felt certain Nicole wasn’t far away.

“No, but when I was doing some work for Sully, I came across a box full of checks.” Reaching for her purse, Elizabeth chose to avoid mentioning the rest of story. Now that her suspicions of Gino’s occupation were confirmed, there was no point letting him know what she saw him do with the safes in her apartment.

Sliding the handful of checks across the table between the men. “I’ve counted over three hundred checks made out to Morti Rizzolii. All varying in amounts, with no consistency on the occurrence. But they are all signed by this man, Saul Mastone.”

Gino muttered a curse in Italian, leaning back in his seat. “Anything else, Elizabeth?”

“Yes,” she spoke timidly, not understanding what Gino said, but knowing it wasn’t good based on how deep his brow was bent. “I found a handful of envelopes addressed to Mr. Rizzotli. For whatever reason, the post office returned them.”

Emilio took the top envelope, examining the return address and the date of the postmark. “Recognize this address?”

Gino tried to recall the location but came up empty. “No, should I?”

Emilio felt a world of relief in Gino’s denial. “This is an apartment in Queens, one your grandfather won in a poker game from my father, who turned it into a place to keep his mistress. With your mother remaining in Sicily, your father had no real use for it. But it appears Saul did.”

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