Chapter 44: Chapter 44

◇ KEL ◇

"To open this file, enter the correct password below.  Note:  case sensitive"

"Oh, come on..." I  repeatedly tapped on the other folder icon on the screen taunting my curiosity like the mysterious email address in my inbox. It was an old email address I hadn't been checking regularly.

It seemed the fairly recent email was from Niccolo. He'd put his initials at the end of the email. I didn't know anyone else with the initials "NV". It was timestamped several weeks ago—hence my bafflement and curiosity.

So Niccolo was still alive that time? Or he scheduled to send it to me on that specific date? How did he know my old email address? Why did he send me these files?

To my puzzlement, he'd sent me a bunch of password-protected files which he hadn't bothered to label correctly. The filenames were just a bunch of dates in numerical format. Or were they not dates?

Intrigued by the archives of documents, I noted the strong wifi connection. My handy tablet worked fast to download the rest of the files. The signal lagged sometimes, but at least I could access my three email inboxes simultaneously.  I rechecked the emails Niccolo had sent.

The attached files had been downloaded, but when I tried entering another series of passwords, my mood easily dropped back to frustrated and bewildered.

His nickname, my nickname, my birthdate, his full name, my phone numbers, the car he drove...

Zilch! The same notification window popped up after every attempt.

"Invalid password. To open this file, enter the correct password below." It was what the pop up window kept saying.

With a frustrated sigh, I  went on with the random guesses. Why did Niccolo protect these files with difficult passwords?  I couldn't quite think of a reason. I clutched the tablet and thought hard. Maybe...his full name and mine.

Drats. Still didn't do the trick.

Grunting in annoyance, I tried ringing Miles' phone. I only got his voice mail, so I didn't bother. It's not like he would call me back. Ugh.  "Come on, man. I'm not a freakin' hacker."  I took a moment to concentrate. The password text box let me enter more than ten characters.

With hopeful enthusiasm, I typed my full name into the white box. No spaces. But the same notification popped up:

"Invalid password. To open this file, enter the correct password below."

Ugh. Fine.  Another try.  I typed my full name again—this time in uppercase.

"MYKAELANIELSEN"

There was a short beep from the tablet after I tapped on "Enter".  A new notification window popped up on the screen. My breath caught, and my lips curved into a smile.

"The images are ready for viewing."

◇

"Sofija Mihajlović."

It was the foreign name on the scanned copy of a wrinkled, yellowish birth certificate signed by a certain "Mathilda Rocio Leviste" and a man named "Ilija Mihajlović".

It was the weirdest scanned file I'd stumbled upon. Was it a harmless prank? But why would Niccolo do that? I knew he didn't exactly like me.

We were never friends, but I knew some personal things about him because of Miles. Niccolo might've gotten jealous when he met me the second time...that day I pretended to be Miles' girlfriend to discourage Niccolo, as deliberately planned by Miles.  It had been more than a year ago, the last time we'd seen each other.

Why would he send these files to me? Niccolo was the only hacker I knew. It could just be a typographical mistake, though. Or it could be that my mother's first name was rather common in Russia during that time...and her maiden last name...and her old signature.

"Oh crap."

The possibility was pretty darn impossible, truth be told.  I  studied the details again. The fact that most of it was in Russian wasn't what made me reread the whole page.

It was the strange coincidence that the person named "Sofija Mihajlović" and I had the same birth year and birth month. How and why was my mother's maiden name recorded in the birth certificate?

Wait. So, my mom had been to Russia and had given birth there? Were these scanned copies digitally edited and manipulated? Possible, but, unlikely, because it wouldn't make any sense if Niccolo actually went to such lengths just to mess with me.

Why did Niccolo send me these records? For what exact purpose? And how did he get his hands on these files?

"Ilija Mihajlović..."

Why did the name sound strangely familiar?

Oh. Mihajlović...a variation derived from "Michael".  I  blinked at the faded letters on the screen. More conclusions just sank in. My finger couldn't resist tapping on the other folder icon included in the password-protected archive. I kept browsing, only to be surprised by what the remaining files contained.

The birth certificate had adoption records Niccolo—or some hacker friends he had—had also found, along with some supporting documents to back it up.

Holy mackerel.  It made perfect sense now.  Shit.

UCMLE had rejected my scholarship application because of inconsistencies with my birth records.

Wow. Okay.

So I wasn't born in the United States.  How could my mom and entire family keep this a secret?  Why hide it all these years?

More importantly, they tried everything to hide it.  My mom probably contacted some people before to fix up new birth records for me.

The initial shock just doubled after every quiet second that ticked by.  I kept scouring another set of scanned documents in Niccolo's email. This bunch had legal, infallibly authentic police records dating back to the '90s.

Mr. Falco mentioned Niccolo had dug up some privileged information about the mob families, and judging by these records, it seemed Nicco uncovered a whole new level of well-kept secrets.  This time, of the criminal kind.

What he'd found were possible paper trails of Mr. Falco's transactions with...the Italian and Russian mobs? Familiar surnames all over the records. Old, faded, but still legible entries.

There was a copy of an Arrest Warrant with Mr. Falco's physical descriptions, plus a black and white photo of him, a younger Stefano Falco. Unless he had a twin brother?

The warrant was dated November 1990. In the photo, he looked like Miles except Mr. Falco had straight hair.  Included in the files were some other guys' rap sheet and old police records.

Heck. How did Niccolo get his hands on all of this? Why send me these copies?

◇

It was my break after another long day of information overload.

The onslaught of research papers to study, lab classes to complete, and the list of our upcoming trainings almost made me forget about those shocking emails a few nights ago.

Of course I'd kept it all to myself and opted to resume my normal routine in the big city, unsure of what to think of those birth and adoption records.

Some other day. Maybe this weekend I'd have time to visit my family again, confront my mom about the whole thing, and get some definite answers.

Well, those papers weren't simply a practical joke. Who in their right mind would do something that elaborate and vicious? Niccolo must've found the old files—the birth and adoption records—when he was trying to check my background.  Which meant...my mom had some long overdue explanations to share soon.

Before my thoughts could delve deeper into my dilemma, I felt my phone vibrate repeatedly in my pocket. Phone call.  Unregistered number.

If it weren't for the familiar area code flashing on the screen, I wouldn't bother to answer. But it might be an important phone call. Could be another modeling agency. A part-time job would be a helpful distraction right now. So I put on my headset and glanced around just to make sure I had enough privacy.  Then I answered the call.

"Mykaela?"

"Yes? Speaking?"

"Hi there! How's it going?"

Female. Familiar voice and fairly British accent.  "Cloe?"

"Got your number from Maximiliano. Hey. Let's switch to video."

I obliged and tapped some icons on my phone screen. "Hi, Clo."

"How are you, love?" Cloe asked with an ear-to-ear smile that narrowed her eyes.

"I'm good. Hey. I should be the one asking." I held my phone closer to my face, squinting at the busy background behind the redhead. "How are you, Clo?"

"Better. So much better," Cloe replied with a few nods. Her smile drew small wrinkles beside her beautiful hazel eyes.

"You sure? Are you at a...restaurant right now?"

"Mall. I'm with Zia," Cloe replied, probably referring to Miles' mother. "We went shopping. Charr's out of town again."

"I see. Are you in the city?"

"Yeah. But we'll meet up with Charr in Florence tomorrow." Cloe glanced behind her. "I'm just waiting for Zia. Anyway, where are you?"

"School. Just survived another test." I kept up a smile. In my mind, though, my months-old curiosity desperately clawed out of my filter. Should I just ask Cloe about it?

We hadn't seen each other since that night Miles and I left the Falco estate with Enzo in the Tomassinis' private plane. Honestly, I wanted to know if Mr. Falco, Ricchar, or Enzo's family had tracked down the group of thugs responsible for the heinous ambush.  Enzo had never talked to me about it again, as if he was just trying to totally suppress the memory.

"Right. Almost forgot. Maxim told us you're back in school. Hope I'm not bothering you that much."

"No. It's fine," I replied with a quick smile. "Clo, did Ricchar or Mr. Falco track them down?"

"Them?"

"The, uh, people who tried to hurt you."

"Perhaps—  I don't know. I don't really ask questions." Cloe sighed and tucked her red-orange locks behind her ear. "And I honestly don't want to know more. Putting it past me." A short pause halted her speech. "At this point, I'm just glad I'm still here, you know? And I'm so much happier, 'cause Charr's making some changes."

"Good to hear." I smiled. At least Cloe looked liked she had moved on from that horrific day.

"Much as possible, I don't dwell on the bad things." Cloe scrunched up her pointed nose.

"I understand."

"It was just a job they had to do. I admit; it was a tough few weeks in recovery. But I really can't blame them entirely."

Her response had me scowling at her tolerant reasoning. I supposed Cloe was also raised by a religious family, but she seemed the type who would easily forgive anyone and everyone, on mere principle.  "They could've picked a better job, though."

"I know. But I'm alive and okay, like Lorenzio, and that's what's important." Cloe blankly stared at something beside her. "I know we're privileged to live like this and all, but I still feel like...life's too short. So I just try to forget about the bad, focus on the things I have. Ricchar. My family." Cloe's seriousness made her cherry-red lips pout. "Do you still think of it? Often?"

Those ruthless murderers tried to kill her in cold blood, and Cloe's reaction? Forgiveness.

Wow. Was she for real?  I couldn't shake it off.  "Sometimes. Yes. Amazing how you just...you're so optimistic, Clo." I paused in awe, impressed by her mental strength.  "They almost killed you, but you don't even wanna know who they are."

"I don't believe in that 'eye for an eye' bullshit. It just breeds more chaos and suffering," she muttered. Her voice sounded somber while a pinch of sadness calmed her eyes. "We're so much better than that, love. Some just fail to realize it."

"Yeah. That's...one way to deal with it."

"It's pointless," Cloe said without a tinge of hesitation. "I asked Charr to forget about it, but he just can't. Doesn't want to."

"I fully understand why." I sighed. Should I change the topic? I didn't like dwelling on what happened, either. Seeing Cloe happy and all smiles felt much better than this depressing philosophical talk.  "Clo, can I ask you something?"

At the question, Cloe wrinkled her brows and stared at me again. "Sure."

"I just saw Miles again." I stared at the woman on my phone screen. "Is he dating someone?"

"As far as I know. He's been out a lot. Yeah. Rarely stays in his house these days 'cause he has to be present during assemblies, and board meetings, that sort of thing. He didn't tell you?"

"That he's seeing someone? No."  Who was he seeing now?

"Well..." Cloe frowned. "Zia said you're staying there in New York. Don't you see him from time to time?"

I looked away. I let a group of noisy college students walk past my table before I spoke again. "Haven't seen him or talked to him in months. Then he just randomly showed up at school," I murmured.

"He missed you a lot, obviously."

"I doubt it, but..." I frowned at the sting of jealousy. How could I not be jealous? Miles had to have realized my feelings before I left Italy. How could he just start dating other people in a matter of weeks? Did he simply not care?

"He's been more serious about his work, and still keeps to himself; I noticed. But his new job, since he doesn't have any prior professional experience in the field, is kind of difficult to get used to," Cloe muttered with her pinky on her lip.  "Surprised he didn't tell you he's been out and about. I didn't know either till Ricchar mentioned it last month."

I scratched my temple.

"Just out of curiosity..." Cloe trained her attentive hazel eyes on me again, squinting at me now.  "Are you still a virgin?"

I blinked a few times, unable to respond for a moment. Did she really have to ask?  "Why?"  Did it matter?

"You are." Cloe forced a quick, tight smile.

Wait. Did she mean to say Miles didn't prefer girls with no sexual experience?  I swallowed the painful glob of anxiety in my throat.  I put my palm on my nape. The back of my neck now felt damp from cold sweat.

"So, you two didn't try at all?" Cloe's genuine confusion wrinkled her pale, blemish-free face. "Interesting. Well, just because you lived together for a while, I thought..."

"Uh...yeah. But it wasn't like that." Never was. Now more blood just rushed to my head, warming up my cheeks and neck.

So my hunches were right:  Miles was having sex with those girls on the photos and videos, and possibly others he'd rubbed elbows with recently. So he met them because of his new job? Were those girls working for the Falcos, too?

Ugh. I hated how my gut often turned out to be right. I'd tried to ignore it, but the bad taste in my mouth wouldn't dissipate.

"Wait, wait. He didn't tell you he also dates women?" Cloe's voice loudened a tad.

"Just found out actually."

Cloe stared back and palmed her cheek. "Hmm. Interesting," she said in a muted voice.

"Why?"  What did that mean?  I wanted to cut the conversation short, but my curiosity controlled me and pushed me to ask  Cloe more questions.

"I think he's just not ready for anything serious. Far from settling down, in my opinion."

"Yeah. He's just...not the relationship type."

"He just needs more time to get comfortable with the idea. Exactly like his cousin." Cloe rolled her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Take me and Charr for instance. We were on and off for so long till he finally quit screwin' around and asked to take me to the altar. Thank heavens," Cloe said with some discontent. "Married almost ten years and I just got knocked up last month, and with the help of a fertility doctor. Mind you."

"What? Are you serious?" I smiled wide now. The news just brought me sudden excitement, overwhelming my thoughts, and momentarily distracted me from my stupid lovesick state.  "You're having a baby? Congratulations!"

"You're a lot of fun;  you know that?" Cloe giggled at my reaction. "Thanks, lovely.  And I'll tell Maxim to sort out your issues before some lucky American guy steals the show. He's flying to America next month for work."

Next month?  Something in my chest twitched at the news.  My birthday was next month.  Could Miles be...  "He told you?"

"No. Zia did. She's so proud of him; it's adorable." Cloe snickered. "I'm sure he'll meet up with you again. Maybe in three weeks."

I put on a smile. I really hoped Miles would come see me again. I missed him, talking to him, hanging out with him. Sometimes I felt like he was almost a stranger to me now. It was his choice, though; I knew that. But I just wished we'd stay good friends despite me being far away and him wanting to move on with his new life now.

"Just talk it out, love."

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