Chapter 5 - The Brother Behind the Locked Door
“Lorenzo.”
My brother said my name like he had been waiting twelve years to say it.
The screen flickered.
Static covered his face for a moment.
Then it returned.
Adriano Duca stood inside my father’s old office.
The same office where I had spent countless nights after his disappearance.
The same room where my father made decisions that changed our family forever.
The same room that had remained locked since the day of his funeral.
I stared at the screen.
I forgot how to breathe.
Because dead men did not appear on security cameras.
Dead men did not look older.
Dead men did not look directly into my eyes.
But Adriano was alive.
Older.
Different.
But alive.
“Lorenzo,” he repeated.
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Open the door.”
The words came out before I realized I had spoken.
Nobody moved.
Not Marco.
Not the guards.
Not Sophia.
Even the fake driver looked uncertain.
The office door was on the second floor.
Locked for twelve years.
No one entered.
No one touched it.
Not even me.
Because some places inside a house became graves.
And that room was my brother’s grave.
I turned toward Marco.
“You knew.”
He looked at the screen.
“I knew he was alive.”
“You knew he was inside my house?”
Marco hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
My anger returned.
“He has been here?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
Marco looked away.
“I don’t know.”
I stepped closer.
“Stop lying to me.”
“I am not.”
His voice became harder.
“Lorenzo, if Adriano wanted you dead, you would already be dead.”
I hated that part of me believed him.
Because Marco was right.
The person behind this had countless opportunities.
The fake driver could have poisoned me.
The garage could have been a trap.
The car could have exploded.
But none of that happened.
Someone wanted something else.
A meeting.
A message.
A truth.
I looked back at the screen.
Adriano was still there.
Waiting.
Like he knew I needed time.
Like he knew seeing him alive would break something inside me.
The office camera moved slightly.
He was not holding it.
He was not controlling it.
Someone else was filming.
Someone else was watching.
I noticed something behind him.
A wooden shelf.
Old books.
My father’s desk.
And on the desk was a photograph.
I leaned closer.
A family photo.
My father.
Me.
Adriano.
But something was different.
Someone had placed a fourth person in the picture.
A young woman.
Someone I had never seen before.
I looked at Marco.
“Who is she?”
He didn’t answer.
That scared me.
Because Marco had answers for everything.
Except this.
“Marco.”
His face changed.
A memory.
A painful one.
“She was the reason Adriano disappeared.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
The screen suddenly went black.
The feed was gone.
The garage became silent again.
I turned back to the monitor.
“Bring it back.”
One of the guards moved quickly.
“No signal, boss.”
“Fix it.”
“Yes, sir.”
I looked at Marco.
“What woman?”
He stayed silent.
I grabbed his coat.
“What woman?”
His eyes met mine.
“She was someone your father tried to erase.”
My grip loosened.
“My father?”
Marco nodded.
“Her name was Elena.”
The name meant nothing.
But the way he said it meant everything.
“She knew what your father was hiding.”
“What was he hiding?”
Marco looked at the unconscious Enzo.
Then at Emma.
Then at the cameras.
He lowered his voice.
“Everything.”
Before I could respond, Enzo moved.
Barely.
His eyes opened.
I immediately walked back to him.
“Enzo.”
His breathing was weak.
But he was conscious.
“Boss…”
“I’m here.”
His fingers moved.
Trying to grab my hand.
“The cameras…”
“I know.”
“No.”
He shook his head slightly.
“The cameras weren’t disabled.”
I froze.
“What?”
Enzo swallowed.
“The cameras were turned off because someone wanted you to think they were disabled.”
The room became still.
“What does that mean?”
His eyes moved toward the monitor.
“The person watching you…”
He struggled to breathe.
“…wanted you to look in the wrong direction.”
A cold feeling moved through me.
Because that was exactly what had happened.
Everyone was focused on the fake driver.
Marco.
Adriano.
The past.
But someone had planned every step.
Someone wanted me chasing ghosts.
I looked around the garage.
The fake driver.
The cameras.
The phone.
The message.
All of it.
A performance.
A carefully designed distraction.
I turned to the fake driver.
“Who gave you the instructions?”
He smiled.
“You still think I work for someone.”
“Then who do you work for?”
He looked at Emma.
The smile disappeared.
“I work for someone who wanted the child to survive.”
Sophia stepped forward.
“What?”
The man looked at her.
“You should have left when you had the chance.”
Sophia went pale.
I noticed.
“What does he mean?”
She looked away.
“Lorenzo…”
My voice became colder.
“Answer me.”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Then Emma suddenly spoke.
A tiny voice.
A frightened voice.
“He came before.”
Everyone turned.
I lowered myself.
“Who came before, Emma?”
She looked at the fake driver.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Not him.”
Her eyes moved toward the office monitor.
Toward the image that was gone.
“Him.”
I felt a chill.
“Who?”
Emma whispered:
“The man who looks like you.”
Nobody spoke.
The sentence landed like a weapon.
Marco closed his eyes.
Sophia covered her mouth.
And I understood.
Emma had seen Adriano.
Not on a screen.
Not in a photograph.
In person.
I stood slowly.
“Emma.”
She looked at me.
“When did you see him?”
The little girl looked toward the basement door.
Then toward the mansion above us.
“Last night.”
My heart stopped.
“What was he doing?”
Emma hugged herself.
“He was crying.”
Nobody expected that answer.
Not me.
Not Marco.
Not anyone.
My brother.
The man who disappeared.
The man who was supposed to be dead.
Was inside my house.
Crying.
Emma continued.
“He told me not to tell anyone.”
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“Because he said…”
Her voice became smaller.
“He said the person who hurt your family was still sleeping in this house.”
The garage went silent.
I looked at Marco.
He looked back at me.
And for the first time in twelve years…
I wondered if I had been protecting the wrong people.
A guard suddenly shouted from the mansion radio.
“Boss!”
Everyone turned.
The guard’s voice was shaking.
“We found something upstairs.”
I grabbed the radio.
“What?”
A pause.
Then:
“The locked office door…”
Another pause.
“It opened by itself.”
I felt every person in the garage freeze.
Because nobody had touched that door.
Nobody had the key.
Nobody had the code.
Then the guard whispered:
May you like
“Someone is standing inside.”
And the voice that answered through the radio was my own.
