Chapter 2 - The Honeymoon He Took Without Her
The message remained open on Matteo's phone.
"Ask your wife why she took the one thing you were never supposed to find."
He read it again.
Then again.
Not because he didn't understand the words.
Because he couldn't understand how someone had sent them.
Matteo Rossi had spent his entire adult life making sure nobody surprised him.
Every employee around him knew his schedule before he arrived.
Every person who worked for him knew his expectations.
Every threat against him was identified before it reached his front door.
But this message was different.
It wasn't a threat.
It was worse.
It sounded like someone knew something he didn't.
Matteo stood alone in the living room, holding the phone tightly in his hand.
The penthouse felt unfamiliar.
That was the first thing he noticed.
Not empty.
Unfamiliar.
The same walls.
The same furniture.
The same expensive paintings he had chosen himself.
But something was missing.
Norah.
He walked toward the bedroom.
The door was open.
The room was perfectly clean.
Too clean.
Norah had always been organized, but this was different.
The closet door was slightly open.
Matteo stepped inside.
Her clothes were gone.
Not everything.
Only the things she actually loved.
The comfortable sweaters she wore at home.
The soft dresses she chose when she wanted to feel beautiful.
The small things he never noticed because they were not expensive enough to matter to him.
His eyes moved to the empty space beside the bed.
For the first time in years, Matteo felt something he hated.
Uncertainty.
He immediately grabbed his phone.
He called Norah.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
His jaw tightened.
"Norah."
He said her name quietly.
Almost like saying it louder would make the situation more real.
He called Arthur, his head of security.
The call connected immediately.
"Sir."
"Where is my wife?"
A pause.
A short one.
But Matteo noticed.
"Mr. Rossi..."
"Where is she?"
Arthur hesitated.
"Mrs. Rossi left yesterday morning."
Matteo froze.
"Left where?"
"We don't know."
The answer made something cold move through his chest.
"You don't know?"
Arthur lowered his voice.
"She dismissed the household staff for the weekend. She said she wanted privacy."
Matteo looked toward the kitchen.
The same kitchen where Norah had pushed the honeymoon tickets back to him.
The same place where he thought she was simply angry.
Not leaving.
"You were supposed to protect her."
Arthur became silent.
Because everyone knew something Matteo hated admitting.
Arthur was hired to protect the family.
But nobody could protect someone from the person they trusted.
Matteo ended the call.
He stood there for several seconds.
Then he noticed something on the desk.
A small envelope.
The one he had already opened.
The photograph inside was still there.
He picked it up again.
It was a picture of Norah sitting at the desk in his private study.
His study.
The room nobody entered.
The room where he kept important documents.
The room where he handled things he never discussed with anyone.
On the back of the photograph were six words.
"You never knew who I was."
Matteo stared at the sentence.
His first reaction was anger.
Not fear.
Never fear.
Anger.
Because the idea that Norah had been keeping something from him felt impossible.
Norah was the one person he believed he completely understood.
The quiet woman.
The loyal wife.
The person who waited for him after every long night.
The person who forgave every broken promise.
But now he was looking at evidence that maybe he had never understood her at all.
His phone rang.
It was Harper.
He almost ignored it.
Almost.
Then he answered.
"Matteo?"
Her voice was cheerful.
Completely unaware.
"Where are you? You disappeared for hours."
He closed his eyes.
The sound of her voice suddenly irritated him.
"I'm handling something."
A pause.
"Is everything okay?"
Matteo looked around the empty penthouse.
"No."
The word came out before he could stop it.
Harper became quieter.
"What happened?"
He didn't answer.
Because for the first time, he didn't know how to explain the problem.
The woman he thought would always stay had disappeared.
And the woman he thought was an escape suddenly felt like a mistake.
"I'll call you later."
He ended the call.
Then he walked toward the study.
The door was locked.
Matteo stopped.
That was strange.
He never locked it.
Not from the outside.
He entered the code.
The door opened.
Inside, everything looked normal.
His desk.
His computer.
His documents.
Nothing seemed disturbed.
Until he saw the drawer.
The bottom drawer.
The one containing emergency information.
It was slightly open.
Matteo walked toward it slowly.
Inside were several folders.
Account information.
Business records.
Private documents.
Everything was arranged exactly as he left it.
Except one thing.
A flash drive was missing.
His expression changed.
Not because of the value.
Because of what was on it.
That drive contained access information.
Not enough to destroy him.
But enough for someone intelligent to understand his financial structure.
Someone patient.
Someone who had been watching.
Matteo immediately called his financial advisor.
The call connected.
"Mr. Rossi?"
"Check the emergency accounts."
A pause.
"Now."
The advisor hesitated.
"Is there a problem?"
"Just check."
Thirty seconds passed.
Then one minute.
Matteo stood motionless.
Finally, the advisor spoke.
"Mr. Rossi..."
His voice sounded different.
"What?"
"There have been transfers."
Matteo's hand tightened around the phone.
"How much?"
"Twenty percent from four separate accounts."
Silence.
"Who authorized it?"
Another pause.
Then:
"Your authentication."
Matteo stared at the wall.
Impossible.
He had not done it.
But the system said he had.
And only one other person could have accessed his private information.
Norah.
His wife.
The woman he thought knew nothing about his world.
The woman he thought needed him.
The woman who had calmly told him to take another woman on their honeymoon.
Suddenly, that sentence felt different.
Take her.
Not a punishment.
Not jealousy.
A decision.
Matteo ended the call.
He walked back into the bedroom.
The pregnancy books were still on the nightstand.
The small blanket they bought for the baby was still folded beside the crib.
Everything connected to the future they planned remained.
Except Norah.
His eyes stopped on a small notebook sitting beside the bed.
He picked it up.
He knew he shouldn't open it.
But he did.
Inside were handwritten notes.
Dates.
Numbers.
Names.
At first, he thought it was about leaving.
Then he read the first page.
"My child will never grow up believing fear is normal."
Matteo stopped breathing.
He turned the page.
Another sentence.
"I spent years protecting his reputation because I loved him."
Another page.
"I spent six months preparing because I finally understood love was not enough."
His fingers trembled slightly.
Not from sadness.
From realization.
Norah hadn't made a sudden decision.
She had been preparing.
For months.
Maybe longer.
His phone rang again.
Arthur.
Matteo answered immediately.
"Did you find her?"
"No, sir."
"Then why are you calling?"
A pause.
"There is something you need to see."
Matteo grabbed his jacket.
"Send me the location."
Arthur hesitated.
"Sir..."
"What?"
"The security cameras from the house."
Matteo waited.
"They show Mrs. Rossi leaving."
"And?"
Arthur's voice lowered.
"She wasn't alone."
Matteo stopped walking.
"Who was with her?"
Silence.
Then Arthur said:
"Someone who shouldn't have been anywhere near your property."
The call ended.
A video file appeared on Matteo's phone.
He opened it.
The footage showed the front entrance.
Norah walked out carrying a small bag.
Calm.
Controlled.
Not crying.
Not running.
Then another figure appeared behind her.
Matteo leaned closer to the screen.
The person stepped into the light.
And Matteo recognized the face.
It was someone he thought had disappeared from his life years ago.
Someone who knew exactly where his secrets were buried.
The video froze.
A second message appeared beneath it.
"Matteo, you should have asked your wife why she was protecting you."
Then the screen went black.
May you like
And before Matteo could call back, the penthouse lights suddenly turned off.
The study door behind him slowly opened.
