complicated feelings

CHAPTER 4: UNACKNOWLEDGED

The word burned in Isla's head.

Unacknowledged.

Not a name. Not even a person. A status. Like a package that was returned to sender. Like a mistake someone tried to erase.

She sat on the cold floor of room 214 with the folder in her lap. Outside the small window, Rome was crying. Heavy rain hitting the shutters of the Hourton Estate. The key with the number '214' engraved on it was still clutched tight in her sweaty palm, cutting into her skin.

Inside the folder, there was only one page. Just one page that destroyed her entire life.

Subject: Marie Allen. Relationship: Confirmed. Child: 1 Female. Status: Unacknowledged. Settlement: Declined. Note: Mother refused payment. Moved to Johannesburg.

Johannesburg. Not Rome. So her mother ran.

Her hands were shaking so badly she almost tore the paper.

Footsteps.

Sharp, heavy footsteps coming down the hall of the east wing. The part of the house Rosa said was closed for renovations.

She panicked. She shoved the folder under her oversized jacket, zipping it up to her chest. Her heart was beating so loud she was sure whoever was coming could hear it.

The door opened.

It was not Rosa. It was not Damian.

It was Lorenzo.

His hair was slightly messy, sleeves rolled up, his suit jacket gone. He looked tired. He had probably just come out of a board meeting. He stopped when he saw her on the floor.

For three seconds, nobody said anything.

Then his eyes went to the desk. The open empty drawer. The key on the floor where she dropped it. And the torn corner of a photograph on the floor, half under the desk. A photo of a much younger Richard Hourton with a woman who had Isla's exact eyes.

"You weren't supposed to find this," he said. His voice was flat. Not angry, not shouting. Just... tired. Like a man who has been carrying a secret for too long.

Isla stood up slowly, holding her jacket tight. "Is it true?"

He walked into the room and closed the door behind him. Softly. He picked up the key from where she'd dropped it.

"It says Unacknowledged," she whispered, her voice breaking. "That's what your father called me? That's my name in your house? A legal status?"

Lorenzo didn't look at her. He looked at the folder under her jacket. "Give it to me."

"No."

"Isla, give it to me. If Selena sees you with it, or if my father-"

"Is it true or not!" she shouted, then immediately covered her mouth. The rain was too loud, but she was still scared.

Lorenzo sighed and leaned against the old desk. "My father had an affair 20 years ago. 2006. Your mother, Marie Allen, she was not just a staff. She was a translator for Hourton Global for the Rome and South Africa deal. She was brilliant. She was at the Hourton gala in 2006."

He paused.

"My father was... obsessed with her. My mother was already sick then. He told everyone your mother tried to trap him. That she wanted money."

Isla felt her stomach turn. "And did she?"

"No." Lorenzo finally looked at her. His grey eyes were not cold for the first time. "She refused everything. Look at your file. Settlement: Declined. She refused his money and left Italy. She went back to have you alone. She died 19 years ago, Isla. Not 2 months ago. You were a baby. 11 months old."

That was the truth she already knew. The letter her Aunt Clara gave her 2 months ago had said the same thing. Her mother didn't tell her with her dying breath. Her mother left a letter that Aunt Clara hid for 19 years.

"So why did you all call me a gold digger? Why did Selena say I came from Joburg to steal?" Her voice was small now.

"Because it's easier to call you a liar than to admit my father is a man who abandoned his own child," Lorenzo said. "If the board finds out Richard Hourton has an illegitimate daughter, especially one who is..."

"An illegitimate from Africa?" she finished for him.

He didn't deny it.

Lorenzo walked closer. "My father wrote Unacknowledged because if he wrote 'Daughter', under Italian law, you would have rights. To shares. To the estate. Unacknowledged means he can pretend you don't exist legally, but he keeps the file to control the story."

Isla closed her eyes. So it was true. She wasn't crazy. She wasn't a gold digger looking for a rich man in Rome. She was a Hourton. She bled the same blood as the man who owned this mansion.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked. "Why are you not chasing me out like Selena?"

Lorenzo was quiet for a long time. Outside, Rome was still raining.

"Because if Damian finds out you found this file by yourself, he will burn this house down," he said quietly. "Damian has always known about you. Since he was 15. He found the same file. He has been waiting for you to come to Rome. He is not like me. He doesn't want to hide you. He wants to use you."

Isla's blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

"Damian thinks if he brings you back, my father will be forced to acknowledge you, and that will split the company. He can use that to take over," Lorenzo said. "He's not protecting you, Isla. He's protecting his plan."

Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She pulled it out with a shaking hand. One new message. Unknown Number.

Come find me in the garden when I'm back? I missed you. -D

Damian. He was already watching.

Lorenzo saw the name on the screen and his jaw tightened. "Don't reply. And don't tell Damian about the folder. Not yet. Let me handle my father first. Please."

He grabbed her wrist, not rough, but firm, and pulled her toward the back door of the study, the one that led to the service stairs. The stairs Rosa used.

"Go through here. Rosa is looking for you. If Selena sees you coming from this wing, she will tell everyone you were stealing."

He opened the small door.

Isla looked up at him, tears now finally falling. "Are you protecting me or protecting your family name?"

Lorenzo stared at her for a second. His eyes flicked to her lips, then away.

"I'm not sure anymore," he whispered.

He let go of her hand.

She ran. She didn't stop until she was back in her small staff room. She locked the door. She took out the folder and the photo she had stolen.

One brother offering safety in the garden. One brother offering dangerous secrets in a locked room. And a father who had 20 years to claim her and wrote Unacknowledged instead.

She looked out the window. The rain over Rome was getting worse.

Tomorrow, the family would have breakfast together. Richard Hourton would be there.

And she wasn't going to beg for his name anymore.

She was going to ask him why he left her mother to die alone.