The Little Girl Who Made Him Smile

PART 2 — THE LETTER FROM A DEAD MAN

My hands trembled as Aleandro took the envelope from Daniel.

“Open it,” he instructed.

I stared at my husband’s handwriting, tears blurring the ink.

“Noah?” I whispered. “How is this possible?”

Aleandro carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a folded letter. Inside was a photograph of Noah standing beside a black car outside the Riverside Hotel.

On the back, three words were written.

TRUST NO ONE.

I recognized the car immediately.

It belonged to Victor Santo.

“Oh, my God.” I covered my mouth. “Noah was investigating him before he died.”

Aleandro’s expression darkened.

“Your husband wasn’t an ordinary hotel employee, Clara. He worked undercover for a federal investigation into illegal shipments moving through Chicago.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“Noah never told me.”

“He probably wanted to protect you.”

Before I could respond, Ivy tugged on Aleandro’s sleeve.

“Mr. Aleandro, why is Mommy crying?”

For a moment, the feared mafia boss looked completely helpless.

He crouched beside her.

“Because she’s worried about someone she loves.”

“Then give her a hug,” Ivy suggested matter-of-factly. “That’s what Papa did when Mommy was sad.”

Daniel turned away, pretending not to hear.

To my astonishment, Aleandro glanced at me before carefully wrapping one arm around my shoulders.

I hadn’t been comforted by anyone since Noah died.

For a moment, I let myself lean against him.

Then Daniel’s phone rang.

He answered, listened for several seconds, and immediately approached his boss.

“Sir, we’ve searched the service corridors. Santo’s men have disappeared, but we found this near the loading entrance.”

He handed Aleandro a small silver flash drive.

My heart stopped.

Ivy suddenly raised her camera.

“Mommy, look! There’s a little door here!”

She had discovered a tiny compartment beneath the camera’s battery cover.

Inside lay a thin memory card.

Aleandro took one look at it and went rigid.

“Daniel, secure the entire estate. Nobody comes in or out without my permission.”

“What is on that card?” I asked.

“Possibly enough to explain why your husband was killed.”

He turned toward the private elevator.

“Come with me. Both of you.”

I hesitated.

“Why should I trust you? You’re a mafia boss.”

His expression didn’t change.

“You shouldn’t trust me simply because I tell you to.”

He looked at Ivy, who was holding his hand as if they had known each other for years.

“But I give you my word that nobody will touch your daughter while she’s under my protection.”

Before I could answer, every light in the ballroom went out.

A gunshot shattered the darkness.

Someone screamed.

Aleandro pulled Ivy against his chest while Daniel drew his weapon.

“Stay behind me!” Aleandro ordered.

Emergency lights flickered on.

Across the room, one of the windows had been shattered.

And on the marble floor beside it lay a security guard, motionless.

A message had been written in red across the nearest wall.

GIVE US THE CAMERA, OR THE GIRL DIES.

Ivy buried her face in Aleandro’s jacket.

I looked at the threat, then at my daughter.

Someone had followed us for four years.

And now they knew exactly where to find us.

Aleandro’s face turned cold enough to freeze the room.

“They’ve made their last mistake,” he said.

Then he looked at me.

“Clara, we’re going to find out who killed Noah.”

He paused.

“And when we do, they’ll wish they’d never learned your husband’s name.”