Mafia's Redemption: Terzo - Chapter 92: Chapter 92

DANI
“I don’t know. I just feel like she took my life. She took advantage of me being a kid who didn’t have a memory. Yes, I’m furious. She made me believe that she was my mother. No matter how she treated me, I never questioned why she did what she did. I suppose I thought mothers treated their children differently.”
“Do you think there’s a chance that maybe you can find a way to forgive her so you can move on?” the psychologist asked.
I’d been talking about my life, my relationship, my memories for the last two hours, and I still didn’t know what to feel.
“If she asks? I don’t know. I’m hurt. She betrays me.”
“That’s good, Dani. You know how you feel. Feeling hurt is normal when someone you care about hurts you. And perhaps you’re too hard on yourself. What was your relationship with your stepfather like?”
I looked down at my hands on my lap. “They got married when I was still young. I guess I wanted to have a father figure in my life. I wondered what it felt like. Throughout the years, we never had that father-daughter relationship.”
“Why is that? Did you try?”
I met her gaze. She was in her forties. I wonder how she managed to deal with stories, horrible, dramatic, exaggerated, and even lies, every day. That must be hard. But she got paid to listen to shits.
“Yes. Like I said, I always wanted to have a father. My mom said my father was never in the picture, and then it was a lie. I believed in her lies for twenty years, only to find out that my father exists, at least that’s what she made me believe.” I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
Why was I even here? What I needed was brain exercise, not rotting. What I needed right now was to meditate. Maybe it could work for me. I already remembered many things, why did I need this?
Right, because I was furious, angry, and I was traumatized by that bitch. And I felt like I was wasting my time.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think this therapy will work for me.” I stood up. “Thank you.” I walked out of the room and left.
Terzo met me at the lobby. “How did it go?”
Terrible. “It’s fine, but I don’t think it’s for me. I don’t want to relive those horrible memories. I’m not denying they didn’t happen, but why should I tell people what I’d been through?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help.” He helped me inside the SUV.
“You did help, and I went there on purpose, hoping it would make me feel better. There’s nothing wrong with me. I just have to deal my shits and move on. I’m not some broken glass or vase that needs fixing. I’m a human being. Humans can be fragile, but that’s why we have rational thinking. We deal with shits everyday. We face the consequences of our actions. As long as our brain can function, it’s our choice to face the obstacle and deal with the pain from the past.”
Gio smiled behind the wheel. “I agree with you. It’s just how we face our problems. Screw shrinks.”
Terzo took my hand and squeezed it. “Let’s go home, sweetheart .”
“ID, please?” I presented my ID, but the man in his fifties shook his head.
Wait. What ID?
I never thought the mysterious and undisclosed bank existed, and it was inside the museum. Terzo and I went through the librarian’s door, and I had to leave him behind before I entered a classic elevator with a baritone bell.
My heart raced. I was terrified of what was waiting for me once the car stopped.
It took one full minute before the elevator stopped at B3. Basement 3? Once the door opened, two guards wearing very fancy suits and earpieces checked my bag and patted me down for weapons.
Then one of them opened the door, and now, I met the manager, asking for my ID.
“Do you have the book, ma’am?” His accent was French.
“Oh, right.” I pulled out two books from my bag.
“This is your ID or your passbook.” He took the Medea and ripped the hardcover apart, making me gasp. Then he removed the white panel, revealing an ID in gold with my picture on it, when I was a girl.
“Holy shit.” I stared at it in shock.
I couldn’t remember when this was taken. Now it made perfect sense why Francesco wanted to be my father. He wanted to use me. He wanted my father’s money.
“Let me update your card.” He took the card and raised the camera to my face. “Smile, please?”
I smiled.
The printing began. The sound made me nervous.
“Do you wanna update any details, marital status, surnames, etc?”
“Can I get my details first, please?”
He printed a copy and gave it to me. “Take your time.”
I read through the information. My new picture was already there, including my full name, which was different from my driver’s license and passport.
I really lost my identity.
“My name on the passport is different from my account name here. Is that gonna be a problem?”
“No, ma’am. Your father opened the account for you. Times changed, faces changed as you grew, but the moment you entered the museum, you got scanned, and we knew it was you. I suppose you don’t have the combination and a key?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Wait a minute, please?”
Once the man left, I grabbed my phone. There was no cell service down here.
A few moments later, he came back with a small black box. “Here. Let me usher you to the safe box.”
The door opened, making me gasp. When he said a safe box, I expected a small room where there were small safe boxes with corresponding numbers, but I was looking at a whole massive space with a thousand safe deposit boxes. And there were only four clients around.
“The number and your key are in the box, Miss MacLynch.”
I smiled at the man. “You’re the first one to call me Miss MacLynch. Thank you.”
It took me minutes to get to the safe deposit box ML2484. All of a sudden, I felt my heart ache that my parents didn’t get to enjoy their years of hard work.
I took the golden skeleton key from the box and inserted it into the hole. It made a clicking sound, making my heart skip a beat.
“This is it. There’s no going back, Dani.”
I pulled the box, the size of a shoe box. Breathing deeply, there was only a manila envelope inside. I grabbed it and locked the box before I went back to the man.
I took a seat and opened the manila envelope. There was a ring, three folded papers, and the bank passbook.
I examined the gold ring. It looked like a man’s ring, probably my father's, with the letter M engraved on it. I put the papers in my bag. It was probably a letter.
Then I opened the passbook. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped at the amount in it.
“Is this real money?”
He smiled. “Yes, Miss MacLynch. The total amount in 2004.”
“What?” I covered my mouth with my passbook and shook to laugh.
“Let me update it for you.”
“Of course.” My hand shook as I gave it to him.
Once he was done, I checked it again. “Oh, my God. I’m gonna faint.”
“Congratulations, Ms. MacLynch.”
“I wish I had a 1% cash. Is there a way to withdraw here?”
He smiled again. “Of course, this is just like a regular bank. How much would you like to withdraw?”
“1 percent?” I crunched my nose, making him amused. “And then 50% of that 1% will be transferred to my bank account. Here’s the number.” I passed a piece of paper to him.
“We have your bank account details.”
Right. Of course they have.
After I got the cash, I gave him ten thousand euros before I left with a bag of cash.