Chapter 4 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Enzo took Lucia’s phone from her hand.
“No.”
Lucia stared at him.
“What?”
“You are not going home.”
“My brother is there.”
“That is exactly why you’re not going.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“Someone is using him to get you through the door.”
“And I’m supposed to sit here?”
“You’re supposed to stay alive.”
“My brother is twenty-two years old.”
“He is also bait.”
Lucia slapped her palm against the table.
“He is my family.”
Enzo’s expression changed slightly.
Not anger.
Recognition.
That made her angrier.
“Then you understand,” she said.
“Yes.”
“So move.”
“No.”
Lucia pushed past him.
He caught her forearm.
Not hard.
But enough to stop her.
She looked down at his hand.
Enzo released her immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m going.”
“So am I.”
Alfonso’s voice came weakly from behind them.
“No.”
They turned.
He looked worse.
Lucia hated herself for leaving him.
But Mateo’s face filled her mind.
“Who is Vittorio?” she asked.
Alfonso looked at Enzo.
“My brother.”
Lucia blinked.
Enzo’s face had gone unreadable.
“You told me Uncle Vittorio died.”
“He was supposed to.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Twenty-five years ago, he betrayed the family.”
Enzo laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“And apparently death was negotiable.”
“I ordered him out of the country.”
“You told everyone he was dead.”
“For your father’s safety.”
Enzo stared at him.
“How did that work out?”
The question hit like a blade.
Alfonso closed his eyes.
Lucia stepped forward.
“Not now.”
Enzo looked at her.
She touched his sleeve.
Just once.
“Mateo first.”
He nodded.
Marco prepared two vehicles.
Lucia was placed in the rear of an armored SUV beside Enzo.
She hated every second of the drive.
Her phone rang halfway there.
Mateo.
She answered.
“Mateo?”
A man’s voice replied.
“Lucia Bellini.”
Her skin went cold.
“Where is my brother?”
“Safe.”
“Let me hear him.”
A pause.
Then Mateo.
“Lucy?”
She closed her eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I’m okay.”
Someone took the phone.
Vittorio returned.
“Come upstairs alone.”
Lucia looked at Enzo.
He was listening through the speaker.
“She will,” Enzo said.
Vittorio laughed.
“Little Enzo.”
Lucia saw Enzo’s hand close into a fist.
“I remember when you were small enough to sit on my shoulders.”
“You’ll remember me differently tonight.”
“Still your father’s son.”
Enzo went still.
Vittorio continued.
“Bring the ledger.”
Enzo looked at Lucia.
So that was it.
“You want the ledger?” Enzo asked.
“And the nurse.”
“Why?”
“Because Alfonso kept one promise I never expected him to keep.”
Lucia frowned.
“What promise?”
Vittorio ended the call.
The SUV stopped three blocks from Lucia’s apartment.
Enzo turned to Marco.
“Rear entrance.”
“We have teams on both sides.”
“No shots unless necessary.”
Lucia stared.
“You’re sending armed men into my building.”
“I’m trying to remove an armed man from your building.”
“My neighbors are there.”
“That’s why no shots unless necessary.”
She hated that his answer made sense.
They entered through the laundromat basement.
Lucia knew every pipe.
Every broken step.
Every door.
She led Enzo and Marco through the rear stairwell.
On the second floor, they paused.
Her apartment door stood open.
Lucia’s heart hammered.
Enzo touched her shoulder.
“Behind me.”
“No.”
“Lucia.”
“My brother is inside.”
“And I have a gun.”
“That does not make you invincible.”
For one second, his eyes softened.
“No. It doesn’t.”
They entered together.
Mateo sat at the kitchen table.
Alive.
Hands untied.
A man in his late sixties stood by the window.
Silver hair.
Dark coat.
No visible weapon.
Vittorio Marchetti smiled when he saw Enzo.
“My God.”
Enzo raised his gun.
“Sit.”
Vittorio remained standing.
“You have your mother’s eyes.”
“Sit.”
“He has a gun under his left arm,” Lucia said.
Vittorio looked at her.
Then laughed.
“Your mother noticed things too.”
Lucia froze.
“You knew her.”
“Very well.”
Mateo stood.
“Lucy, I’m fine.”
“Come here.”
Vittorio did not stop him.
Mateo crossed the room.
Lucia grabbed him.
Checked his face.
His arms.
His neck.
“I said I’m fine.”
“I know.”
“You’re doing the nurse thing.”
“Shut up.”
He hugged her.
She nearly broke.
Enzo kept his gun on Vittorio.
“Ledger.”
“Why?”
Vittorio’s smile faded.
“Because Alfonso wrote history the way he wanted you to read it.”
“He said you killed my father.”
“I did not.”
Enzo’s finger tightened against the weapon.
“Careful.”
“If I wanted you dead, Enzo, you would not have reached this apartment.”
Marco raised his weapon.
Vittorio looked bored.
“Your grandfather always hired loyal men.”
“Talk.”
Vittorio nodded toward Lucia.
“Ask her what her mother knew.”
Lucia stepped forward.
“My mother is dead.”
“Yes.”
“You knew her?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She treated Alfonso after the shooting.”
“I know that.”
“No. You know the clean version.”
Lucia’s stomach twisted.
Vittorio walked slowly toward the table.
Enzo tracked him with the gun.
“Twenty-eight years ago, Alfonso was shot because he discovered money disappearing from the family accounts.”
“Your money?” Enzo asked.
“No.”
“Then whose?”
“Salvatore DeLuca.”
Camilla’s father.
Vittorio continued.
“Salvatore was young then. Clever. Patient. He built companies using Marchetti money, then hid the transfers.”
“Why would my father be involved?”
“He wasn’t. At first.”
Enzo’s face tightened.
“At first?”
Vittorio looked toward the window.
“Your father discovered the same accounts years later.”
“And Salvatore killed him.”
“Salvatore ordered it.”
Enzo lowered the gun slightly.
“Who carried it out?”
Vittorio looked at him.
“Someone inside your father’s security team.”
Marco swore quietly.
Lucia said, “What does this have to do with my mother?”
Vittorio’s eyes returned to her.
“Elena kept records.”
Lucia frowned.
“She was a nurse.”
“She was a witness.”
“To what?”
“To Alfonso naming Salvatore after he was shot.”
Lucia shook her head.
“Why would she keep that?”
“Because she did not trust us.”
That also sounded like Elena.
Vittorio reached inside his coat.
Marco raised his gun.
“Slow.”
Vittorio removed an old cassette tape.
Lucia stared.
“My mother recorded him?”
“Yes.”
“Where has that been?”
“With me.”
“Why?”
“Because Alfonso asked me to protect it.”
Enzo laughed bitterly.
“So you weren’t enemies.”
“Oh, we were.”
Vittorio placed the cassette on the table.
“Families can be complicated.”
Enzo lowered the gun.
“Why come back now?”
“Because Salvatore knows Alfonso is dying.”
“And?”
“And once Alfonso is dead, Salvatore will try to destroy everyone who can connect him to the old accounts.”
Vittorio looked at Lucia.
“That includes her.”
Mateo stepped closer to his sister.
Enzo’s voice went cold.
“And you thought kidnapping her brother would protect her?”
“I did not kidnap him.”
Mateo cleared his throat.
“He didn’t.”
Lucia turned.
“What?”
“He knocked.”
“You let him in?”
“He said he knew Mom.”
Lucia closed her eyes.
“You are an idiot.”
“I know.”
Vittorio almost smiled.
“I needed you to come.”
“You could have called.”
“You would not have believed me.”
“That does not make this better.”
“No.”
At least he knew.
Enzo picked up the cassette.
“What promise did Alfonso keep?”
Vittorio’s expression changed.
“He promised Elena that if anything happened to her, her children would never be pulled into this family.”
Lucia felt the floor shift beneath her.
“What?”
“That is why Alfonso never contacted you.”
“Then why hire me?”
“He didn’t.”
Vittorio looked at Enzo.
“Salvatore did.”
Silence.
Lucia whispered, “The agency assignment.”
“Manipulated.”
“Why?”
“To put you near Alfonso.”
“Why would he want that?”
Vittorio reached into his pocket again.
This time he removed a photograph.
Lucia’s mother.
Older.
Standing beside another man.
Enzo’s father.
Lucia looked at Enzo.
His face went blank.
“What is that?”
Vittorio placed it on the table.
“Your mother and Enzo’s father met secretly for six months before his death.”
Lucia stared.
Enzo stared.
Neither spoke.
Then Lucia noticed writing on the back of the photograph.
A date.
And two words.
SAFE DEPOSIT.
Vittorio pointed to it.
“Whatever Elena and Enzo’s father discovered together is still hidden.”
“Where?” Enzo asked.
Vittorio looked at Lucia.
“The key belonged to your mother.”
Lucia shook her head.
“I don’t have any key.”
Mateo spoke from behind her.
“Yes, you do.”
Lucia turned.
Mateo looked pale.
“The brass key Mom told you never to throw away.”
Lucia stopped breathing.
She knew exactly where it was.
Then her apartment door slammed shut.
May you like
A red dot appeared on Enzo’s chest.
Someone outside the window had a rifle.
