Page 30 of The Man with a Treasure

Resting my elbows on my knees, I gripped my hair on the top of my head. Being faithful can be exhausting at times. Trusting God was taking patience that was wearing thin.

“My Angel, what troubles you so?”

I quickly peered up to see Mrs. Rossi. She was setting a tray on the little table next to Isabella.

Not able to lie to the woman raising me as her own, I said nothing. Fortunately, Isabella did. “This tea smells wonderful, dear woman. I am grateful.” She smiled. “Two cups?”

Mrs. Rossi gazed down as if feeling guilty. “Mateo would like to join you.”

Isabella poured some tea into a cup. “Please explain to him that I am presently speaking to my advisor and will have tea with him at another time.”

My jaw dropped when Isabella handed me the cup.

Accepting it, I studied Mrs. Rossi’s grave expression, trying to understand what was happening, but she only said, “As you wish.”

As she returned to the house, I asked Isabella, “Why do I feel like I am the served lamb of the day?”

She took a sip of her hot tea. “Because you are wise beyond your years.”

“Can I avoid being on the dinner plate?”

“No, I am afraid not. That menu was created when you vowed to save my daughter.”

I winced. “Wouldn’t that please your family?”

“Not as much as her staying away.”

I blinked in dismay. “Isabella, what are you saying?”

She set her tea down. “That,” she fought tears, “my return was acceptable because I was not of sound mind.” She leaned her head back. “A Will can be contested in courts with that fact. Now that I am showing signs of improvement,” she peered at me and smiled with trembling lips, “that is no longer an option.” A tear slipped down her face as she began to whisper, “You will not only rescue my daughter, in turn saving my heart and soul, but you will also be returning a tainted Giordano Princess. A treasure to me. A loss of substantial inheritance to them.”

My gut wrenched. Everything inside me suddenly screamed that Scarlett was not viewed as a family member, but as a threat.

While I stared at the now four brothers watching me as if they viewed me as the same, Isabella whispered, “I am my father’s only daughter—the apple of his eye. Can you imagine a granddaughter? One who had been created and tortured due to her grandfather’s mistakes?” My eyes raced to hers. She nodded. “His guilt, as much as I appreciate it—and need it at times—is slowly killing him. My brothers and mother fear he will give it all to us.”

As my mind exploded, because that amount of money was probably so impressive it would’ve made any rich man blush, it also exploded because… “Your mother?” I never had heard of this woman, so I assumed she had passed long ago.

As Isabella smirked, a tear slipped into her mouth. “I want to die because my child is missing. My own mother,” her eyes slid shut as if fighting becoming ill, “hopes I do.”

Sal had only been approximately four years old when Isabella had been taken. He didn’t even remember her. Nor did he know the family members who had dispersed, possibly in fear of another abduction. But Mrs. Rossi did. Problem was, she didn’t gossip. If you had a secret to tell, she was the best gatekeeper to protect it. So, Sal and I had a nice fire brewing and amenities waiting for her when she got home from the Giordanos’ kitchen.

She took one look at the prepared tea and laughed. “I see my boys have lost their wings and gained horns?”

Sal guided her to the couch. “Mamma, how can you think so little of your son?”

Exhausted, she plopped down on the couch. “Because you are kissing my ass.” I burst out laughing because she was absolutely correct. She gestured to me. “See? Even Angel knows this to be true.”

His plan going array, Sal blinked… Then… “Pastry?”

She smirked. “Only tea, Lucifer.” After Sal handed her the saucer and small plate, she said, “Thank you. Now, what is it that you want?”

Eagerly, her son sat next to her. “History. Who are the brothers? Where is Isabella’s mother? Why did they all leave?”

With crunched eyebrows, she held up a hand. “Silence. You are giving me a headache. I’ve been dealing with spoiled Giordanos all day. Take pity on me and give me a moment to think.”

It was somewhat shocking to hear her speak unkindly of another. My jaw tightened, witnessing her exhaustion. Never had I seen her so depleted. I wanted to go and personally slap each Giordano brother for returning with their own families. Now, Mrs. Rossi had that many more mouths to wait on and feed.

Wincing, Mrs. Rossi rubbed a temple. “May I ask why the interrogation?”