The Family Secret

by Daniele Botti

  “Miss. Lindsay, you feel like heaven in my arms.” Jose pecked her nape, causing her insides to spark.

  She rolled to face him, “And you, Mr. Sanchez, feel like my type of guy.”

  “That’s because I am your guy.” He snuggled his face into the nook of her nape.

  Paula closed her eyes. For the first time since she’d met Jose, it felt okay to be with him in an intimate manner. Feeling like she was the luckiest girl alive, she finally drifted off to sleep.

  10.

  Digging into Her Roots

  The soft ambient light in Paula Lindsay’s condo radiated brightly, imitating the new-found warmth she was feeling in her heart.

  When they had finished eating their dinner, Megan and her niece cleaned up the kitchen and dining area together, still discussing stories and events with one another. Many of the things Megan talked about were things that had happened to her when she was using, so some of them didn’t make a lot of sense to Paula, but she got the gist. Much of what her aunt was saying was cautionary tale, so Paula would know what to look for when people came to her with certain intentions, and how she could avoid being taken advantage of. It came off as a little preachy to Paula, but she listened and nodded, taking advantage of the wisdom that her aunt was attempting to impart upon her.

  “I wouldn’t say anything if I didn’t know this from experience,” Megan said after each tale as if to drive the point home. “I just don’t want you to end up as I did.”

  Paula had felt as if she had had enough lecturing by that point and decided it was time to turn the conversation back to the present day for just a moment. “Speaking of, how’s the rehabilitation going?”

  Megan was somewhat apprehensive and taken aback by the question, “Well. . .” she fumbled looking for the right words like a blind man in an unfamiliar room looking for a light switch. “…It’s easier some days than it is on others.”

  “You haven’t had another relapse, have you?” Paula inquired, trying to sound more concerned and less invasive about the question.

  “No,” Megan replied, some doubt and hesitation in her speech. “No, nothing like that.”

  Paula’s eyes went wide as if she was getting ready to hear something that she didn’t want to hear, and found herself interrupting her aunt, “You didn’t do it, did you?” Paula said in an interrogative manner.

  “No, I didn’t,” Megan confessed, a little bit of sadness in her voice. “But part of me really wanted to. My mind and body both screamed for it, but I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing you again. I’ve been such a disappointment for so long.”

  “You’re doing fine, aunty, and I couldn’t be prouder,” Paula said, trying to console her aunt, who had tears forming in her eyes.

  “I didn’t do it,” Megan said, attempting to place an exclamation mark on the end of her story.

  “Yeah, you’ll get over that, won’t you?”

  Megan snickered just a little bit, “Yeah, I guess I will.”

  The two of them shared a moment of silence which got Paula thinking about her conversation with Jose from the other day about her family. She knew her aunt often avoided the topic like a plague, but it seemed as if Megan’s defenses were down, so she pressed her advantage, hoping to gain the answers she was looking for.

  “Aunt Meg, I have a question I’m really hoping to get an answer to. I really want to know about your past, about how I was born, about where our family came from.”

  Megan looked away, trying to avoid the topic, but Paula wasn’t about to let her slide on this. Megan knew it too; she knew that she would have to talk to her niece about this stuff sooner or later. Paula reached out, and put her hand on her aunt’s shoulder, trying to console her regarding the situation.

  “I don’t know, honey. Once I tell you these things, it isn’t something that I can take back. It’s not something that can be undone, and you might not forgive me for what I will end up telling you.”

  Megan’s level of anxiety began to rise, and Paula was empathetic to it, knowing that she needed to console her in any way she could. But she knew that she needed to press on, she needed these answers so she could find the answers to her own problems. It was time for her to know and to understand who she was, and to grow from the information that her aunt would give her.

  “Aunty, whatever happened, it’s in the past. And I really want to find out,” Paula whispered softly and empathetically. “And I promise that I will forgive you for it.”

  “Okay. Our family is not how it seems to be. For one, your father’s surname isn’t Lindsay, it is Bianchi. We’re not native New Yorkers, we’re from Italy.”

  Paula looked on as her aunt divulged this information. She interjected, “Okay, we’re Italians, why is that so difficult to talk about?”

  Megan shook her head as if her niece had little understanding of the matter. “The Bianchi family is part of the Cosa Nostra, the Italian Mafia.”

  Paula looked shell-shocked as the realization of what her aunt was implying hit her. “You mean my parents were mobsters?”

  “No, at least technically not. Your father and I were born in Lazio. He was only a year older than me and we have been close since childhood. Ever since we were kids, Andrew had shown much distaste towards the activities of the family. When we were five, our father came to New York on a mob business for a short period of time and he brought your father and me along, trying to show us the ways of the organization.” Megan paused as memories flooded her mind and dread began to overcome her. She sighed and continued, “Even then, Andrew and I tried to stay away from the Bianchi name and mob business as much as we could. Seeing that we weren’t committed to the family ways, our father feared there would be more backlash as we grew older.” She caught her breath then continued, “To save us, he used his connections to set us up in an orphanage before he left for Italy. This was where we spent our formative years, growing up in the system through real difficulties and struggles. Andrew and Megan Bianchi died in the orphanage, evolving into the Lindsays, who you got to know today.”

  Paula’s brain worked on overdrive as she tried to process all the information her aunt had just dumped on her. A million questions ran through her head, she asked the one that burned brightest in her mind. She dreaded the answer, but still, she probed, “Then how did all these came to be; the money, the power, all of it?”

  Megan adjusted her posture as she spoke, “Andrew was naturally intelligent and smart. After our rough years through high school, he got a scholarship to Columbia University. On graduation, our father secretly gave Andrew a substantial amount of money, disguised as an entrepreneurship grant. Freshly out of college and in his early twenties, your father made some investments that panned out; and soon, Lindsay Corporation became an international name. It was amazing how we achieved all that with no contact with our past, except for that single favor from Mr. Bianchi. To the world, Andrew Lindsay’s story was an American success story. From rags to riches. From zero to hero. We had put our Mafia history behind us, or so I thought.”

  Paula studied her aunt’s face as she felt a sense of impending doom in her last statement. Making the connection, she queried, “What’s wrong, Megan? Has something come up?”

  Megan nodded. Her expression becoming more gloom than before, “Over the past years, Andrew and I have grown apart. He had his wife and daughter to look out for and I had my own vices to deal with. However, he called and told me a member of the mob had contacted him. He said they had a meeting. However, when I asked Andrew what their meeting was about, he didn’t open up to me. All he did was tell me to be more careful and keep an eye out.” Megan sighed and continued, “You may have noticed he began acting a bit paranoid afterward. It’s been coming to my mind over the past few weeks we’ve spent together that Andrew’s plane crash may not have been as natural as we thought. Maybe even your mother’s accident as well.”


  Paula stared at her aunt with shock as the words she heard rang in her head. “You mean they might’ve been killed?” she asked.

  “It’s possible. Our old family is dangerous, and I wouldn’t put staging the accidents past them.”

  Paula felt like her head would explode in an instant. She had wanted answers all her life, and now that she’s gotten some, she wondered whether she could handle this reality.

  An awkward silence ensued between them. “Could her parents have been murdered because of the mafia link they had?” Paula thought. Questions swirled through her mind and she knew her aunt would not be able to provide answers to most of them.

  “I appreciate you for telling me the truth,” Paula said.

  Megan broke eye contact and looked down, as if ashamed of what she had just done.

  Paula felt the demons she’d worked so hard to banish from her head, trying to crawl their way back. At that moment, she knew before she could really have complete peace of mind, she needed to find her roots. She had to do that, wherever the road may take her, she concluded.

  1.

  Setting Flight

  Paula took a deep breath, ignoring her trepidation. The young millionaire’s fingers tapped a staccato on the armrest of her chair. Megan, meanwhile, was pacing irritably around the expansive lounge of her condo, biting her lips, trying not to wring her hands.

  Her eyebrows seemed to be permanently knitted together, and whenever she looked towards her niece, she was regarded with a cool, but slightly infuriating look.

  “Meg, I’ve told you I’m going,” Paula stated, her voice coming out normal in spite of the strained silence that had swept the room ever since plans of her going to Italy had come out.

  “I know darling, I know you. Nothing can stop you when you put your mind to it.” If anything, Megan regretted telling her in the first place. No, she decided. Paula had to be told someday, she couldn’t be coddled. “It’s just...I will have to come with you. I will have to come with you, and I will not want to step outside, and you will get annoyed really quickly of me.”

  “Of course,” Paula said, showing zero hesitation. Megan looked at her, and Paula let her pause stretch out, making the middle-aged woman wonder if she had agreed to becoming annoyed quickly or her coming along. Paula hid a grin at the refreshing display; people in the corporate world always had their poker faces on, even in informal settings, but not her aunt. “We will go together.”

  She and her aunt were as one, clinging to each other; pillars of support for one another. Even though the young woman was determined to go, Paula would not leave her aunt behind. She needed Megan, as much as Megan needed her. “I wouldn’t dream of going without you,” Paula said. “Actually, I wouldn’t dream of you all the same, considering the kind of dreams I have.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Megan smiled, a little, the gloomy atmosphere dissipating. She breathed out, her shoulders loosening.

  She was scared, terrified to her core. She had lost her brother, and now, she could lose her niece, the one worthwhile thing she had left in the world. Now, her heart wanted to go back to the origins of her father battle her own demons. Megan was both proud and afraid.

  Paula, on the other hand, was contemplating how she would break the news to Jose. She kept having the nightmare where she was with him, head resting on his shoulder as they sat on an airplane before the peace was destroyed by the turbulence and that dark, ominous voice that somehow recognized her in the dream realm. She could not identify who it was, nor save the plane from crashing.

  To get on a flight with Jose Sanchez was a risk Paula was absolutely not willing to take. That was one future she could not alter, the one where the two of them met their deaths.

  “I’ll have to meet Jose before we go,” Paula confided, rolling a strand of hair around her finger.

  “It’s Jose now?” Megan gave a sharp glance, which softened as when she saw Paula twitch. “Sorry, that came out harsher than I intended. So, you’re serious about him?”

  “I am never not serious in these matters, Meg,” Paula squared her shoulders. “Jose is a fine man, just give him an honest chance. Trust me and my choices, even if you can’t bring yourself to trust him,” she added, touching her aunts’ shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “I do trust you, darling, it’s just. It’s hard to explain how things run around in my head,” Megan sighed. Her own vices had done irreparable damage to her psyche, and she had nothing to blame.

  “It’s okay, Aunty, I understand. Let’s just put this behind us for now,” Paula tried to soothe her, fully understanding that her aunt’s concern, obsessive as it was.

  “So, when are we going to Italy?” Megan asked.

  “In a few days. I’ll book a flight for Wednesday or Thursday, it’s much more economical that way.” Also, it would also give her aunt time to mentally prepare herself for what was to come. It was not going to be easy for either of them.

  “That’s good to hear,” Megan sighed in relief. “Business class as usual?”

  “Of course.” Paula did not get the point of wasting money on a first-class seat unless she needed to work while on the plane, in which case, the atmosphere was worth it.

  “You really do take after your father and his frugal ways.” Megan smiled, feeling the conversation coming to an end.

  “And I’m proud of it. Learned from the best!” Paula claimed. She moved towards the kitchen to fix the two of them a little snack. “Now, what would you like to eat?”

  “I’ll help you out. I’m in the mood for some pasta tonight,” said Megan, getting up for some Aunt and Niece bonding time.

  • • •

  The next dawn Paula awoke from a new nightmare, no screams echoing off the walls of her room. Her dream had been about a deadly mugging in an alley behind a supermarket, which she had prevented by causing enough by moving a rock through a window, the commotion causing employees to barge into the alley, witness the scene and raise the alarm.

  It was another small victory for her, she smiled as she stretched her limbs. Walking to her kitchen, she hydrated herself with a glass of cold water, before changing her outfit for exercise and hitting her home gym. A good morning workout allowed Paula to stay functional throughout the day. Even when she wasn’t well-rested, stretching and exerting, her tired muscles would rejuvenate them.

  Afterward, she would lounge in the comfortable massage chair, waiting for her sweat to dry while perusing her iPad to go over the news and her schedule for the day, making small reminders of the projects and ventures she would have to wrap up before taking a little vacation from Lindsay Corporation.

  Lately, Samuel Thornton, her Chief of Staff and Chief Operations Officer, had been quite proactive. Paula knew that he was eyeing her position as the CEO, despite her maintained performance. But her colleagues and employees were a bit concerned about her attitude; she just couldn’t socialize like her father used to while occupying his position. Perhaps she should visit them all before declaring herself to be taking a vacation, triple-check everything to ensure the corporation ran just as well in her absence like she always did.

  By the time she finished replying to all emails, the massage had thoroughly relaxed all her muscles. Her body cooled, enough for Paula to take a quick shower. It was a part of her daily routine. As always, she turned the knob to the setting for cold for the last few seconds, letting the chilly water close up the pores of her skin. Then she moved onto a brief, but crucial skin routine, finishing it with a moisturizing sunblock.

  As she exited her bedroom, donning a pale blue two-piece suit by Leonard Logsdail with a white ruffle blouse, Megan had begun preparing her breakfast.

  “Good morning, Aunty,” she greeted, taking her seat at the marble counter.

  Megan reached over adjust Paula’s already pristine collar button, more out of affection than need. “Morning darling.” She p
laced a white, ceramic bowl filled with equal amounts of yogurt and granola in front of her. “Would like some coffee with that?” she asked, flipping over her own pancakes, a breakfast less healthy than what her niece was having.

  The woman in question mixed her granola with yogurt with a spoon, browsing news on her phone to not waste a moment as she ate her breakfast. “Just black, no sugar.”

  Megan silently hummed to herself as she reached for the coffee maker, not that Paula minded. You had to get used to the small tics of everyday life to keep your focus; perfect moments came rarely. Within minutes her Koffee Kult Dark Roast was ready, and in a smart mug, so the temperature remained just right.

  “Thanks,” Paula muttered as Megan sat down next to her with her stack of pancakes and began to pour the traditional maple syrup on it, tucking in.

  “You’re welcome, love,” said her aunt, before starting her day by browsing her phone for more relaxed pursuits than her busy niece. Not many words were exchanged between the two as Paula finished her breakfast, rinsed her used utensils and was out the door after a quick goodbye to her aunt.

  Deciding to take her red Tesla 3 today, the woman slid into her fully charged electric car and was on her way to Citadel, the best and most expensive office area in New York, where the main headquarters of Lindsay Corporation were situated.

  • • •

  Doctor Sanchez spun a pen in between his fingers, going over his notes of the most exciting patient – and friend – he had, admitting to himself that his heart was just not quite into his practice lately. Smooth, yellow paper inked with his handwriting cluttered his usually organized mahogany desk, yet he knew which paper held which piece of information. A newspaper clipping from a few months ago was also a part of them, reading Andrew Lindsay’s obituary.

  He wondered how long he would watch the battery on his MacBook drain, and how appropriate it would be to email the woman whose company he craved, yet still hadn’t had the mind to ask her for her number. He did have it, as she had given her data during her time as his patient, but to contact her through it in a personal capacity would be, well, not entirely legal if that was how he had obtained it.