Chapter 9 - THE OTHER SOFIA
She was twenty-six years old.
That was the first impossible thing.
The second was that she looked like my mother.
Not vaguely.
Not enough to create imagination.
She had my mother’s green eyes.
The same small dimple beside her mouth.
The same heart-shaped face I had seen in hundreds of childhood photographs.
She sat across from me in Damian’s library while four guards watched.
Leah stayed upstairs with Rosa.
Gabriel stood near the wall.
The young woman looked exhausted.
“My name is Ava Morgan.”
I stared.
“The guard said Sofia Russo.”
“That’s what my birth certificate says.”
My skin prickled.
“Show me.”
She handed over a copy.
Name: Sofia Elena Russo.
Date of birth: twelve years before I ever met Gabriel.
Mother: Elena Russo.
Father: Gabriel Russo.
I laughed because nothing else made sense.
“I was nineteen when this says you were born.”
Ava nodded.
“Were you pregnant at nineteen?”
“No.”
“Did you know Gabriel?”
“No.”
She looked toward him.
“I’d never seen him until today.”
Gabriel’s face was unreadable.
“Where did you get this?”
She removed another folder.
“I grew up in Nevada. My adoptive parents died last year.”
“I’m sorry.”
“They left me a locked box.”
Inside were adoption documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
One letter contained Bianca’s name.
Damian’s sister.
I leaned forward.
“What did it say?”
Ava slid the letter across the table.
It had been written by Bianca seven years earlier.
IF YOU EVER LEARN THE NAME ELENA RUSSO, FIND HER BEFORE SALVATORE DOES.
I stared.
“This was written before Leah was born.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel moved closer.
“Bianca knew Elena existed that early?”
Ava looked at him.
“She knew more than that.”
“What?”
“She knew Salvatore had been using Elena’s identity for years.”
My stomach dropped.
“For what?”
“Children.”
Silence.
I stared at her.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Ava nodded.
“I know.”
She continued.
“Your identity was useful because your birth records were sealed when Michael Russo adopted you. Some systems showed incomplete data.”
“So Salvatore created fake records under my name?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
Ava looked down.
“I don’t know.”
Gabriel swore softly.
Suddenly the St. Catherine’s files made sense.
Children transferred.
Identities changed.
Birth records manipulated.
And somewhere inside that system, my name had been used as a ghost mother.
“How did Bianca find out?” I asked.
“She was investigating Salvatore.”
“Why?”
Ava looked toward the Caruso family photograph on the mantel.
“Because she learned what happened to her mother.”
Damian’s mother.
“What happened?”
“She didn’t die from illness.”
My chest tightened.
“Salvatore killed her too?”
“No.”
Ava’s eyes moved toward Gabriel.
“Vittorio did.”
The room became silent.
Damian had spent his life believing his father was powerful.
Maybe cruel.
Maybe dangerous.
But I suspected this truth would cut differently.
“Why?”
Ava answered.
“She discovered Damian was not Vittorio’s biological son.”
I remembered what Gabriel had said.
Damian had been adopted secretly from Luca Romano.
“Vittorio killed his wife to protect that secret?”
“She threatened to tell Damian.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Bianca would have been a child.”
“She was fourteen.”
“And she knew?”
“Eventually.”
I stood and walked toward the window.
Too many dead people.
Too many secrets.
Too many children paying for adult greed.
“What does this have to do with Leah?”
Ava’s voice softened.
“Leah isn’t the beginning of this.”
I turned.
“She’s the end.”
“What does that mean?”
“Vittorio created the trust because he regretted what the family became.”
“Four billion dollars doesn’t fix murder.”
“No.”
Ava shook her head.
“But the trust contains evidence.”
I stared.
“What evidence?”
“Financial records. Bribes. Missing-person payments. Illegal adoption accounts.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
“You’re saying the trust is also an archive.”
“Yes.”
“Who told you?”
“Bianca.”
I stared.
“You met her?”
“When I was nineteen.”
“When she wrote the letter.”
“Yes.”
“Why you?”
Ava looked down at the fake birth certificate in front of her.
“Because she believed I might really be related to you.”
My breathing slowed.
“How?”
“She thought Salvatore hadn’t randomly chosen your identity.”
“Then why use it?”
“Because the clinic files showed a genetic marker.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“What marker?”
“Caruso lineage.”
I felt cold.
“What are you saying?”
Ava looked directly at me.
“I think I’m your sister.”
Silence.
“No.”
“Not through your mother.”
“Then through Vittorio?”
She nodded.
I stared at her.
Another hidden daughter.
Another child Vittorio had apparently left behind.
“Who was your mother?”
“A woman named Catherine Morgan.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
“You know that name.”
He nodded slowly.
“She worked for Vittorio.”
“As what?”
“Accountant.”
Ava continued.
“She disappeared shortly after I was born.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
“Salvatore used my identity on your birth certificate because he needed to hide Vittorio’s daughter under another daughter’s record.”
“That is insane.”
“It worked.”
She was right.
For twenty-six years, it worked.
A phone rang.
Gabriel answered.
His expression hardened.
“Damian.”
I stood.
“What happened?”
Gabriel put the call on speaker.
Damian’s voice came through.
“We found Mateo’s foster family.”
“Is he safe?” I asked.
Pause.
“No.”
My heart dropped.
“What happened?”
“The house is empty.”
“Anthony?”
“We found blood.”
Ava stood.
“Where are you?”
Damian gave the Phoenix address.
Ava went pale.
“I know that house.”
Every person looked at her.
“What?”
“My adoptive parents used to take me there.”
“Why?”
“I thought they were visiting friends.”
She walked toward the map on the wall.
“Was there a blue shed behind the property?”
Damian answered through speaker.
“Yes.”
Ava closed her eyes.
“There’s a storm cellar under it.”
Damian shouted orders.
We heard running.
Then silence.
A minute passed.
Two.
Then Damian returned to the phone.
“We found the entrance.”
I held my breath.
More movement.
Then a child screamed faintly through the line.
Damian’s voice changed.
“Mateo.”
Relief hit me.
Then Damian swore.
“What?”
I asked.
No answer.
“Damian!”
Finally he spoke.
“Anthony is here.”
My chest tightened.
“Is Mateo hurt?”
“No.”
“What about Anthony?”
Damian’s voice became cold.
“He isn’t alone.”
“Who’s with him?”
Another voice came through the phone.
Male.
Older.
Weak.
I had never heard it before.
But Ava clearly had.
She dropped into the chair.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“Who is that?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“My father.”
I froze.
“Vittorio?”
She shook her head.
The voice came through the speaker again.
“Elena.”
My name.
Spoken by a stranger.
Then he said something that shattered the entire story we had believed.
“Vittorio Caruso is not your father.”
The phone slipped in my hand.
May you like
The man continued.
“I am.”
