Chapter 2 - Twelve Years of Lies
I dropped to my knees beside the cot, tears burning my eyes for the first time in over a decade. I reached out with trembling hands, afraid that if I touched her skin, she would dissolve into smoke.
“Evelyn... how?” I choked out, pulling her thin, fragile body into my arms. She clung to my coat, sobbing quietly against my shoulder. “They told me you were in that car. They gave me your ring. I put Lorenzo in charge of the investigation...”
Beatrice stepped forward, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “Lorenzo was the one who put her in that car, Mr. Falcone.”
The room went deathly silent, save for the hum of the small heater.
I slowly turned my head to look at Beatrice. “What did you say?”
“Twelve years ago, I wasn't just a maid,” Beatrice said softly, her voice steadying despite her fear. “I was Evelyn’s personal assistant at her college campus. Lorenzo Vale was already conspiring with the O’Connor syndicate to take over your family’s docks. Evelyn caught him exchanging encrypted drives with rival enforcers in the estate library.”
I stood up slowly, my blood running colder than the Chicago winter outside. “Go on.”
“Lorenzo knew she was going to tell your father,” Beatrice continued. “So he rigged her car. But I found her bleeding in the ravine before the vehicle caught fire. I dragged her out. I knew if Lorenzo found out she survived, he would finish the job—and kill anyone who helped her. I bought a corpse from a crooked morgue attendant, put Evelyn’s ring on it, and put it in the driver's seat before the gas tank exploded.”
I stared at Beatrice in absolute shock. “You... you saved my sister’s life?”
“I hid her,” Beatrice whispered. “For twelve years, I worked three jobs to pay for her medicine, her food, her rent. But six months ago, Evelyn’s lungs deteriorated from the smoke inhalation she suffered that night. Her medical costs quadrupled. I ran out of money. I had to get a job inside your mansion to stay close to the supply line, to steal food just to keep her alive.”
I looked back at Evelyn, whose thin fingers held onto my sleeve like a lifeline. “All these years... Lorenzo told me he hunted down the men responsible. He executed five O’Connor soldiers in my name. He rose to underboss on the blood of my sister’s fake death!”
“He’s been poisoning your empire from the inside, Julian,” Evelyn whispered weaky. “He’s waiting for the right moment to eliminate you and hand Chicago to the O’Connors.”
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My mind raced back to an hour ago—Lorenzo standing in my study, sneering at the security monitor, telling me to throw Beatrice into the basement before sunrise. He hadn't just wanted a thief punished; he had suspected Beatrice was keeping a secret that could destroy him.
“No more hiding,” I said, my voice hardening like tempered steel. I pulled off my heavy mink-lined coat and wrapped it tightly around Evelyn’s shivering frame. “Tonight, the lies end.”
