Chương 6
No expensive jacket.
No perfect appearance.
Just a simple blouse and tired eyes.
Mia stayed close to Elena.
She did not hide.
But she did not approach Evelyn either.
That hurt Evelyn more than she expected.
“You came,” Evelyn said.
Elena nodded.
“You said my father left something.”
Evelyn looked at Stallone.
Then at Mia.
Her expression softened for a moment.
Almost too quickly to notice.
“I did.”
She walked to the cabinet where she had kept the photograph the night before.
From behind it, she removed a small wooden box.
It looked old.
Not valuable.
Not impressive.
Just worn.
She placed it on the table.
“Your father gave this to me six months before he died.”
Elena stared at it.
“Why didn’t you show me?”
Evelyn looked down.
“Because I was angry.”
The honesty was uncomfortable.
Elena waited.
Evelyn opened the box.
Inside were several papers.
A small key.
And a photograph.
Stallone picked up the photograph.
His expression changed.
The picture showed three people.
A younger Evelyn.
Elena’s father.
And a man standing beside them.
A man Stallone recognized.
His own brother.
The room became silent.
Elena noticed.
“What?”
Stallone placed the photograph down carefully.
“That’s Daniel.”
She looked at him.
“Your brother?”
He nodded.
The name had not been spoken in years.
Not by anyone in the family.
Not even by Stallone.
“What does he have to do with my father?”
Evelyn looked at the photograph.
“Everything.”
Nobody spoke.
Outside, the wind moved through the trees.
The mansion remained quiet.
Then Evelyn said the sentence she had spent years avoiding.
“Your father didn’t die because of an accident.”
Elena froze.
Stallone’s hand tightened against the edge of the table.
“What are you saying?”
Evelyn looked at her daughter.
For the first time in a long time, she looked afraid.
“I’m saying someone wanted him gone.”
Elena stared at her mother.
The sentence seemed too large for the room.
Not because it was impossible.
Because it changed everything that came before it.
“My father died in a car accident,” Elena said.
Her voice was steady, but her fingers had tightened around the edge of her sleeve.
“That’s what everyone said.”
Evelyn looked down.
“Yes.”
Stallone stepped closer to the table.
“Everyone?”
The question carried weight.
Evelyn noticed.
“You think I’m lying.”
“I think you’re leaving something out.”
Her expression hardened slightly.
“Of course I am.”
The answer surprised him.
She looked toward the wooden box.
“I have spent years leaving things out.”
Mia sat quietly on the couch nearby, coloring again.
The adults had lowered their voices, but children often understood when a room changed.
She looked up when nobody was smiling.
Then she went back to drawing.
Evelyn watched her for a moment.
“She reminds me of Elena.”
Elena frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“When you were little, you asked questions about everything.”
A small, almost invisible smile appeared.
“You hated not knowing things.”
Elena looked away.
She did not know what to do with a gentle memory from someone who had hurt her.
The contradiction made her uncomfortable.
“You don’t get to talk about my childhood like everything was normal.”
Evelyn accepted the criticism.
“I know.”
That was another thing Elena did not expect.
Her mother admitting something without immediately defending herself.
Stallone pulled out a chair.
“Start from the beginning.”
Evelyn sat down.
For several seconds, she stared at the photograph.
“Your father, Michael, discovered something about my company.”
Elena looked confused.
“My father worked for you?”
“No.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“He investigated me.”
The room became still.
“Why?”
“Because he thought I was being used.”
Stallone looked at the documents on the table.
“By who?”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Your brother.”
The name remained between them.
Daniel Moretti.
A man Stallone had spent years refusing to discuss.
Elena noticed the reaction.
“What happened between you two?”
Stallone did not answer immediately.
That alone told her there was more.
“My brother believed the family could become something bigger.”
“That sounds vague.”
“It was.”
Stallone looked at the photograph.
“He wanted influence.”
“And you didn’t?”
The question was not meant as an insult.
But it landed that way.
Stallone looked at his granddaughter.
Then back at Elena.
“I wanted security.”
The difference sounded small.
It was not.
“Daniel wanted control,” he continued.
“He believed fear was the only thing people respected.”
Elena looked at Evelyn.
“And my father found out?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Michael discovered Daniel had been moving money through companies connected to my business.”
“The same companies you were investigating?”
“Yes.”
Elena’s eyes moved to the papers.
“And you knew?”
Evelyn did not answer quickly enough.
That was answer enough.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew.”
Evelyn looked at her daughter.
“I knew something was wrong.”
The room felt colder.
“Then why didn’t you tell him?”
Evelyn looked away.
That was the first time all day she looked unable to defend herself.
“Because I thought I could fix it.”
Elena laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the explanation sounded painfully familiar.
“That’s what you always did.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“You controlled everything.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
The word came out sharper than Elena intended.
“You controlled the house.”
A pause.
“You controlled conversations.”
Another pause.
“You controlled people.”
Evelyn looked down.
“And you thought that was protection.”
The older woman said nothing.
Because it was true.
Stallone watched the exchange quietly.
He had known Evelyn for years.
He had fought with her.
Negotiated with her.
Threatened her.
But he had rarely seen anyone speak to her like this.
Not with anger.
With disappointment.
That seemed to affect her more.
“What happened after your father found out?” Elena asked.
Evelyn opened the wooden box.
She removed a small envelope.
“I received this three days after the accident.”
Elena took it.
Her hands shook slightly.
Inside was a letter.
The paper was old.
The handwriting was familiar.
She knew it immediately.
Her father’s handwriting.
She read the first line.
May you like
Evelyn,
If you are reading this, then I was right to be afraid.
