The Name They Tried to Bury

I barely slept that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Enzo’s words.

Someone has been searching for your mother.

It was a strange thing to discover that the woman who raised me, the woman whose photographs I kept beside my bed, might have lived an entirely different life from the one I knew.

I sat on the edge of my bed, turning her silver ring between my fingers.

It was beautiful but unusual. A small silver serpent curled around a dark blue stone, its tail meeting its mouth. I had worn it on a chain since I was eighteen, after my mother left it among her belongings.

She had also left me a wooden jewellery box.

I had never bothered to examine it closely.

Perhaps because I had been too young to understand its importance.

Perhaps because I had been too afraid of remembering her.

A knock interrupted my thoughts.

“Come in.”

Enzo entered, carrying a folder.

“You’re awake.”

“Apparently, sleep isn’t easy when you discover your mother might have been a mafia princess.”

He almost smiled.

“She was more than that.”

I frowned.

“You’re enjoying making this mysterious.”

“I’m trying not to give you information I haven’t verified.”

He placed the folder on the table.

“Victor found something.”

I opened it.

Inside were several photographs, old newspaper clippings, and a photograph of a woman standing beside a tall man. The woman had long dark hair and striking blue eyes.

I recognized her immediately.

My mother.

But she looked different. Younger, confident, and dressed in an elegant black gown. Behind her stood several men in suits.

“Where did you get these?”

“An old archive connected to the Valenti family.”

I picked up another photograph. My mother was standing beside a man whose face had been partially damaged.

“Who is he?”

“We haven’t identified him yet.”

I looked at the newspaper clipping.

VALENTI DYNASTY COLLAPSES AFTER DEADLY FAMILY CONFLICT.

My hands began to tremble.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Enzo sat opposite me.

“Because someone wanted the Valenti name forgotten.”

I looked up.

“Was my mother murdered?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

“Her death was recorded as an illness. But the circumstances surrounding it have never been properly explained.”

I felt something tighten in my chest.

“You’re saying she might have been killed?”

“I’m saying you deserve the truth.”

I pushed the photographs away.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because I knew your mother.”

My head snapped up.

“You knew her?”

“Not personally. But I knew what she represented.”

“Then why did you react like that when I mentioned her name?”

Enzo leaned back.

“Because the Valenti family was believed to have been wiped out. Your mother was supposed to have been the last surviving member.”

I stared at him.

“Then how am I here?”

“That’s the question.”

Later that morning, I asked Elena to bring my suitcase downstairs.

I wanted to find the wooden jewellery box.

When she returned with it, I sat on the floor and carefully opened the lid. Inside were old earrings, a bracelet, a few photographs, and a folded envelope.

My name was written across it.

For Luca.

My breath caught.

I had never seen the envelope before.

With trembling fingers, I opened it.

There was a short handwritten letter.

My dearest Luca,

If you’re reading this, then perhaps the time has come for you to learn what I could not tell you while I was alive.

You must never trust anyone simply because they claim to love you. Some people will protect you because they care. Others will protect you because they need what belongs to you.

Keep the ring close. One day, someone will recognize it.

When that happens, ask them what became of the Valenti bloodline.

And whatever you do, never let the Vescari family decide your future.

I read the final sentence again.

Never let the Vescari family decide your future.

A cold sensation travelled down my spine.

My mother had known something about the Vescari family.

But what?

I read the letter several times, hoping another explanation would appear.

It didn’t.

I folded it carefully and placed it inside my pocket.

Then I heard footsteps.

Enzo stood at the doorway.

“Did you find something?”

I hesitated before handing him the letter.

His eyes moved across the handwriting.

When he reached the final sentence, his expression changed.

“You recognize the handwriting?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then why do you look like that?”

He folded the letter and returned it to me.

“Because your mother was right to warn you.”

I stood.

“About the Vescari family?”

Enzo nodded.

“What did they do?”

Before he could answer, Victor appeared behind him.

“Boss, Adrian is calling.”

Enzo looked annoyed.

“Tell him I’m busy.”

“He says it’s urgent. He wants to discuss the agreement.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“Of course he does.”

Enzo glanced at me.

“Do you want to hear what he has to say?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t have to.”

Victor’s phone vibrated.

He checked the screen, and his expression tightened.

“There’s something else.”

Enzo turned.

“What?”

“Damian Ross has left the Vescari mansion.”

“And?”

Victor hesitated.

“He was seen meeting someone outside the city. We don’t have a clear image of the other person yet, but the vehicle belongs to an old Valenti associate.”

The room went silent.

I looked at the letter in my hand.

My mother had warned me about the Vescari family.

Damian was searching for her name.

And now someone connected to the Valenti family was meeting him.

For the first time, I wondered whether my marriage to Adrian had ever been an accident.

“Enzo,” I said quietly.

He looked at me.

“I want to know everything about my mother.”

His expression became serious.

“Then we start with the Valenti archives.”

I nodded.

But before we could leave, Enzo’s phone rang again.

He answered, listened for a few seconds, and slowly lowered it.

“What happened?” I asked.

His eyes met mine.

“Someone broke into your mother’s old residence last night.”

My heart stopped.

“Did they find anything?”

Enzo’s voice was cold.

“They left one thing behind.”

“What?”

He looked towards the photograph in my hand.

“A message.”

He paused.

“They know you’re alive, Luca.”