The Little Bodyguard

Part 3 – The Secret Isabella Left Behind

The following morning, I decided to ask Lorenzo about the necklace.

But before I could find him, Marco approached me in the kitchen.

“Miss Ferraro, the boss wants to see you.”

My stomach tightened.

“Did something happen?”

Marco hesitated.

“He’s found something.”

I followed him to Lorenzo’s private office.

Mia was sitting on the sofa, eating a strawberry while explaining something to one of the guards.

Lorenzo stood behind his desk.

In front of him were several old documents and a photograph.

“Close the door, Sophia.”

I did.

He picked up the photograph.

“Where did you get this necklace?”

I swallowed.

“It belonged to my mother.”

“What’s her name?”

“Elena Ferraro.”

Lorenzo went completely still.

He slowly sat down.

“Elena?”

I nodded.

“She died when I was twenty. She never told me much about her past. Why?”

Lorenzo opened a drawer and removed an old envelope.

Inside was a photograph of Isabella standing beside a young woman.

I recognized her immediately.

My mother.

But she looked much younger, perhaps only twenty years old.

I stared at the picture.

“How did you get this?”

“Isabella kept it.”

Lorenzo took a deep breath.

“Elena wasn’t just your mother, Sophia. She was Isabella’s closest friend.”

I couldn’t speak.

He continued.

“Eleven years ago, Isabella was pregnant when she died in that car accident.”

My eyes widened.

“Pregnant?”

He nodded.

“She was seven months along. The doctors told me there was no chance of saving the baby.”

His voice became quieter.

“But I never saw the child. I never received a proper explanation. Someone told me the baby had died before I arrived at the hospital.”

I felt my heart pounding.

“What does that have to do with my mother?”

Lorenzo pushed another document across the desk.

It was an old hospital record.

My mother’s name appeared at the bottom.

Elena Ferraro.

Underneath it was a handwritten note:

Infant transferred to private care under emergency authorization.

I looked up.

“That’s impossible.”

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Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.

“Your mother worked at that hospital. She was one of the nurses who helped Isabella.”

I stared at the document.

Then I remembered something.

My mother had once told me that when I was born, she had spent several days in the hospital before bringing me home.

She had always refused to discuss my father.

Whenever I asked, she would simply say:

“Your father loved you, sweetheart. Some things happened before you could understand.”

I looked at Lorenzo.

“Are you saying…”

“I don’t know what I’m saying yet.”

For the first time, the powerful Mafia boss looked genuinely afraid.

He glanced toward Mia.

“There’s something else.”

He placed a second document on the desk.

It was a medical report from the hospital where Isabella had been treated.

The date was eleven years earlier.

The report mentioned a surviving infant.

A baby girl.

My knees nearly gave way.

“No…”

Lorenzo stood.

“Sophia, I need to ask you something. Have you ever had doubts about your daughter’s medical records? Her birth certificate? Anything unusual about the circumstances surrounding her birth?”

I shook my head.

“Mia is my daughter. I gave birth to her. I know that.”

He immediately softened his expression.

“I’m not questioning that.”

He looked down at the photograph of Isabella.

“I’m questioning what happened eleven years ago.”

Before either of us could speak again, the office door suddenly opened.

An elderly woman entered without knocking.

It was Eleanor Cataneo, Lorenzo’s aunt.

She had been living at Villa Cataneo for years and was one of the few people who could speak to Lorenzo without fear.

The moment she saw the documents, her face went pale.

“Where did you get those?”

Lorenzo turned toward her.

“From Isabella’s private records.”

Eleanor looked at me.

Then at Mia.

And suddenly, her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, my God.”

Lorenzo stepped forward.

“Aunt Eleanor. What do you know?”

She remained silent for several seconds.

Then she whispered:

“Isabella didn’t lose her baby.”

The room went completely quiet.

Lorenzo’s face hardened.

“Explain.”

Eleanor looked at Mia, who was now watching us with her little strawberry-covered fingers.

“Someone took that child from the hospital. Someone wanted Lorenzo to believe his daughter was dead.”

Lorenzo gripped the edge of his desk.

“Who?”

Eleanor closed her eyes.

“Your own father.”

Lorenzo looked as though someone had struck him.

“My father died eleven years ago.”

“I know.”

“Then how could he have done this?”

Eleanor reached into her handbag and removed a sealed letter.

“Because he left instructions before he died. Instructions I was too afraid to disobey.”

She placed the envelope on the desk.

On the front, in faded handwriting, were six words:

For Lorenzo, when the little girl returns.

Lorenzo stared at the envelope.

Then he slowly turned toward Mia.

My daughter had climbed down from the sofa and was standing beside his chair.

She reached up and took his hand.

“Mr. Lorenzo?”

He looked down.

“Yes, little bodyguard?”

“Why are you sad?”

He swallowed hard.

Mia gently patted his fingers.

“It’s okay. I can protect you.”

Lorenzo closed his eyes.

And for the first time in eleven years, tears appeared in the eyes of the man everyone feared.

Because he was beginning to understand that the little girl who had walked into his office wearing an oversized security jacket might be connected to the daughter he had mourned for so long.

But there was still one question nobody could answer.

If Isabella’s baby had survived…

Why had Sophia’s mother spent her entire life keeping the truth hidden?

And who had been watching Mia all along?

End of Part 3.