Chapter 6 - The Person Who Betrayed Me
A shadow stood outside my office door, and a familiar voice whispered:
“Adrian… open the door.”
I raised my weapon.
Because I knew that voice.
It belonged to the person who had spent years protecting me.
The person I trusted more than anyone.
The person who had just been exposed as a possible traitor.
Marcus.
The man who had stood beside my family for seventeen years.
The man who had saved my life twice.
The man who had just admitted he knew Luca was alive.
My finger rested near the trigger.
Nobody moved.
Inside that office, everyone was waiting.
Luca.
Sofia.
Elena.
And me.
The person outside knocked again.
“Adrian, please.”
Marcus looked at me.
“I’m not the enemy.”
I stared at him.
“Then prove it.”
Silence.
Then the door opened.
Marcus stepped inside.
His face was tense.
But he was not holding a weapon.
He was holding a folder.
The same type of folder that had been hidden in my office.
The same type of folder that contained my name.
“What is that?”
Marcus looked at Luca.
Then at me.
“This belongs to your father.”
My expression changed.
My father had been dead for eight years.
He had nothing to do with this.
At least, that was what I believed.
I grabbed the folder.
“Why would my father have something connected to Luca’s disappearance?”
Marcus looked down.
“Because your father knew Vincent was dangerous.”
The room went quiet.
I opened the folder.
Inside were documents.
Old documents.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Dates.
And one handwritten note.
My father’s handwriting.
I knew it immediately.
I had seen it hundreds of times growing up.
The note contained only one sentence.
“Adrian, the person closest to you will be the one who destroys you.”
My chest tightened.
A warning.
Written years before Luca disappeared.
Before the accident.
Before everything.
I looked at Luca.
“Did you know about this?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Sofia stepped closer.
“Your father suspected Vincent long before any of us.”
“Then why didn’t he tell me?”
Nobody answered.
Because the answer was obvious.
My father had tried to protect me.
But protection had become silence.
And silence had allowed Vincent to grow stronger.
I continued reading.
The documents showed years of secret payments.
Payments from companies connected to Vincent.
But one name appeared repeatedly.
Not Vincent.
Not Luca.
Mine.
Adrian Moretti.
I stared at the page.
“What is this?”
Marcus looked away.
“Your father discovered someone was using your identity.”
My eyes moved across the numbers.
Someone had created accounts under my name.
Moved money through them.
Built evidence.
Evidence that could make it look like I was the one stealing from the family.
I understood.
The plan was never just to take my empire.
It was to destroy my reputation.
To make everyone believe I was the criminal.
Vincent wasn’t trying to replace me.
He was trying to erase me.
Luca looked at me.
“That’s why I disappeared.”
I turned toward him.
“Explain.”
“Vincent needed someone to blame.”
His voice became quieter.
“If he could prove you were responsible, nobody would question him taking control.”
My hands tightened around the papers.
“And the crash?”
Luca looked down.
“The crash was supposed to kill me.”
Sofia closed her eyes.
“But it didn’t.”
“No.”
Luca looked at me.
“Because someone changed the plan.”
The room froze.
“Who?”
Luca hesitated.
Again.
I hated that hesitation.
“Luca.”
He looked at me.
“The person who helped me escape was the same person who helped Vincent build the plan.”
My expression hardened.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does.”
He pointed at the folder.
“Because that person wanted Vincent gone too.”
A dangerous possibility entered my mind.
Someone had been playing both sides.
Someone wanted Vincent’s power.
But also wanted me alive.
“Who?”
Luca didn’t answer.
Instead, he looked at Marcus.
Marcus immediately shook his head.
“No.”
Luca said nothing.
That was enough.
I looked between them.
“You both know.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“Adrian, there is something you need to understand.”
“No.”
My voice was cold.
“I’ve spent three years being protected from the truth.”
I pointed at the folder.
“I’m done.”
Marcus stopped.
“Tell me everything.”
He took a breath.
“The night Luca disappeared, there was another person in the car.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“The driver.”
My mind raced.
“Then who was driving?”
Marcus looked at the photograph from the folder.
A picture from the night of the crash.
The image was blurry.
But clear enough.
A person standing beside the vehicle.
A person wearing a dark coat.
A person whose face was partially visible.
I picked up the photograph.
And my blood went cold.
Because I recognized the watch.
The ring.
The clothing.
Not the face.
The details.
The person in the photo was standing beside Luca’s car.
And they were wearing the same clothes someone wore at my mansion that night.
The night Luca died.
The night I received his final call.
I looked at Marcus.
“You saw this person?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
His eyes filled with guilt.
“Because Luca asked me not to.”
I turned toward my brother.
“You asked him to hide this from me?”
Luca stepped closer.
“I was trying to save you.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
My voice broke slightly.
Not from anger.
From pain.
“I lost three years believing you were gone.”
Luca looked away.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
The room became silent.
Because that was the truth.
Nobody knew what it felt like to bury someone who was still alive.
Nobody knew what it felt like to hate yourself for not saving someone who never needed saving.
Then my phone vibrated.
Another unknown message.
I opened it.
One sentence.
“Your brother is lying about the night he disappeared.”
My eyes moved to Luca.
Then another message appeared.
A photo.
A security camera image.
Taken from my mansion.
The timestamp was three years ago.
The night Luca died.
I zoomed in.
A figure stood outside my office.
Holding something.
A small black device.
A phone.
Luca’s phone.
My heart stopped.
Because the person holding it was not Vincent.
Not Marcus.
Not Sofia.
It was someone I had known my entire life.
Someone who had raised me.
Someone who had taught me to trust.
The message below appeared.
“Ask your mother what she saw that night.”
I froze.
My mother had been dead for ten years.
Then the office lights flickered.
The security monitor turned on.
A live camera feed appeared.
A woman stood outside the mansion gates.
Older.
Tired.
Holding an old photograph.
Marcus whispered:
“Adrian…”
I looked at the screen.
Because the woman standing there was impossible.
May you like
She looked directly into the camera.
And she said my name.
