Chapter 4 - The Man Beneath the House
“Gabriel.”
Lucia’s voice barely carried through the underground corridor.
But Massimo heard it through the surveillance speakers.
He stopped breathing.
On the monitor, the man standing beyond the steel door stepped into the weak emergency light.
He was somewhere in his sixties.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
Dark coat.
A deep scar crossed the left side of his jaw.
Sophie immediately moved in front of Lucia’s wheelchair.
“Who are you?”
The stranger ignored her.
His eyes stayed on Lucia.
“You remember me.”
Lucia gripped the armrests.
“I watched them bury you.”
The man gave a humorless smile.
“They buried a lot of people who weren’t dead.”
Massimo looked at Isabella.
She had gone pale.
“You know him?”
Isabella nodded slowly.
“Gabriel DeLuca.”
Marco turned.
“Who?”
“Our father’s accountant,” Massimo said.
But that description was incomplete.
Gabriel DeLuca had been Salvatore Moretti’s closest financial adviser for almost twenty years. He had known every legitimate company, every property, every trust, every protected account.
Then, seventeen years ago, Gabriel had supposedly died in a warehouse fire.
Three months later, Massimo’s father died from a heart attack.
The underground archives were sealed.
Massimo stared at the monitor.
Two dead people had now returned in the same afternoon.
He no longer believed that was accidental.
“Get me downstairs,” he said.
Marco reached for the elevator controls.
Isabella grabbed Massimo’s sleeve.
“Wait.”
He turned.
“Gabriel disappeared before my accident.”
“You said Carlo was behind your accident.”
“I said that’s what I believed.”
Massimo’s eyes narrowed.
“What are you telling me?”
“I’m telling you Gabriel may know who was above Carlo.”
“Above?”
Isabella looked toward the monitor.
“Carlo wasn’t the beginning.”
Massimo said nothing.
That answer would have to wait.
He pressed the elevator button.
“Stay here.”
Isabella laughed once.
“You found out I was alive ten minutes ago and you’re already giving me orders?”
“Yes.”
“Some things really don’t change.”
“Lock the door behind us.”
Massimo and Marco entered the elevator.
As the doors closed, Massimo watched Sophie through the feed on Marco’s phone.
She still stood between Gabriel and Lucia.
She did not know Gabriel.
She did not know Massimo was watching.
Yet again, she had placed herself in danger for his mother.
The elevator descended.
B1.
B2.
The display went blank.
Marco looked up.
“You weren’t kidding.”
“My father had this level removed from every modern blueprint.”
“Why?”
“He said some things were safer on paper.”
The elevator shuddered.
B3 appeared.
The doors opened.
Massimo stepped into the corridor.
Sophie spun around.
Her eyes widened.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Lucia closed her eyes.
Relief passed over her face.
Then anger.
“I knew you didn’t go to London.”
Massimo almost smiled.
“Hello, Mom.”
“You lied to me.”
“You lied first.”
“I am your mother. I’m allowed.”
Even Marco looked away to hide a reaction.
Sophie stared between them.
“You were here?”
“Yes.”
Her face changed.
“You saw?”
Massimo understood the question.
Not the papers.
Not the medication.
Vivian.
“I saw everything.”
Sophie lowered her eyes.
For some reason, shame crossed her face.
“You shouldn’t have had to do what you did,” Massimo said.
She looked up.
“I couldn’t just leave her.”
“I know.”
Gabriel watched them quietly.
Massimo finally faced him.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
Gabriel shrugged.
“So are you, apparently.”
Massimo’s expression hardened.
“You know about the certificate.”
“I know more than the certificate.”
“Then start talking.”
Gabriel looked at Sophie.
“Not until she knows why she’s here.”
Sophie frowned.
“I came down here because Mrs. Moretti told me to.”
Lucia looked uncomfortable.
Massimo noticed.
“Mom?”
Lucia avoided his eyes.
That was never a good sign.
“Why did you bring Sophie here?”
Lucia’s fingers tightened around the blanket.
“Because of Margaret.”
Sophie froze.
“My mother?”
Gabriel stepped backward into the archive room.
“Come inside.”
Massimo remained where he was.
“You first.”
Gabriel gave him a tired look.
“Still your father’s son.”
“No. That’s why I’m still alive.”
Gabriel entered.
Massimo followed.
The room was enormous.
Metal filing cabinets covered the walls.
Shelves held ledgers, tapes, photographs and sealed document boxes.
Dust lay over almost everything.
Almost.
A desk lamp glowed in one corner.
Someone had been using the room.
Recently.
Gabriel approached a cabinet.
Sophie stayed beside Lucia.
“What does my mother have to do with this?”
Gabriel removed a file.
BENNETT, MARGARET.
Sophie stared at her mother’s name.
“No.”
Gabriel placed the folder on the table.
“Your mother saved Isabella Moretti’s life.”
Sophie looked at Massimo.
Then Lucia.
“Isabella died.”
“She didn’t,” Massimo said.
Sophie stared at him.
Gabriel opened the file.
Inside were photographs.
Margaret Bennett.
Younger.
Wearing a nurse’s uniform.
Another photograph showed a private clinic.
A third showed Isabella in a wheelchair.
Sophie covered her mouth.
“That’s my mom.”
Gabriel nodded.
“She was working nights when Isabella was brought in.”
Sophie touched the photograph.
“My mother never talked about this.”
“She couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because she was threatened.”
Sophie looked up.
“By Carlo?”
Gabriel’s face changed.
“No.”
Massimo stepped closer.
“Then who?”
Gabriel ignored him.
He removed a small cassette recorder.
“Margaret left this.”
Sophie’s hand shook as she took it.
“Is that her voice?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three days before she died.”
Silence.
Sophie looked at him.
“My mother died of heart failure.”
Gabriel did not answer.
Sophie understood anyway.
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“No.”
Massimo saw her breathing change.
He moved closer but did not touch her.
Gabriel inserted the cassette.
Static filled the room.
Then a woman’s voice.
Sophie went completely still.
“If Sophie ever hears this, I’m sorry.”
Sophie’s eyes filled instantly.
The recording continued.
“I told my daughter I was leaving nursing because I was tired. That wasn’t true.”
Sophie pressed a fist to her mouth.
“I saw things at Saint Catherine’s that I should never have seen. Isabella Moretti was brought in under another name. She was drugged. She was alive.”
Massimo looked at Lucia.
Lucia was crying silently.
Margaret’s recorded voice trembled.
“I helped Isabella leave. After that, men started following me.”
Static.
“I kept records because I knew someday someone would need proof.”
Gabriel reached into the folder.
Hospital charts.
Payment records.
Medication orders.
Margaret continued.
“One of those men worked for Carlo Moretti.”
Massimo waited.
“But Carlo was afraid too.”
Gabriel looked at him.
That sentence changed everything.
The tape continued.
“He kept saying the same thing on the phone. ‘I did what you told me. Leave my family out of this.’”
Massimo leaned closer to the recorder.
Margaret’s voice weakened.
“I never heard the person on the other end.”
Static swallowed several seconds.
Then—
“But I found the initials.”
Everyone stared at the recorder.
“L.B.”
Massimo remembered the wedding file.
LB-1978.
Sophie looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Isabella had reacted to those initials.
Massimo needed to get back upstairs.
Gabriel stopped the tape.
“There’s more.”
“Play it.”
“Not yet.”
Massimo’s patience snapped.
He seized Gabriel by the coat.
“You have spent seventeen years hiding under my house. My mother was assaulted. My sister was erased. Sophie’s mother may have been murdered. And somebody prepared my death certificate for Saturday.”
Gabriel remained strangely calm.
“So if you know who L.B. is, say the name.”
Gabriel looked into his eyes.
“If I say it without proving it, you won’t believe me.”
“Try.”
“No.”
Massimo tightened his grip.
Sophie spoke.
“Let him go.”
Massimo looked at her.
She was wiping tears from her face.
“If he has proof, I want to see it.”
Massimo released Gabriel.
Gabriel straightened his coat.
“Your mother had courage.”
Sophie’s voice hardened.
“Don’t talk about her like you knew her.”
“I did know her.”
“You let me believe she died naturally.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“By leaving me alone?”
Gabriel had no answer.
Sophie turned away.
Lucia reached for her hand.
Sophie let her take it.
Massimo watched them.
Then Marco’s radio crackled.
“Boss.”
A security guard.
“Go.”
“We have a problem upstairs.”
“What?”
“Ms. Crawford is asking where Mrs. Moretti went.”
“Let her ask.”
“She’s not alone.”
Massimo’s expression changed.
“Who is with her?”
“Detective Blake.”
Marco looked at Massimo.
The guard continued.
“And Damian.”
Massimo checked his watch.
The conspiracy was accelerating.
“Lock the estate.”
Marco issued the order.
Gabriel suddenly said, “Don’t.”
Massimo turned.
“If you lock the gates, they’ll know.”
“They already suspect I’m here.”
“They don’t know how much you know.”
“That advantage ends soon.”
“Then use what remains.”
Massimo looked toward Sophie.
Her mother’s recording sat on the table.
“What do you suggest?”
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“Give them what they want.”
Lucia stared at him.
“My signature?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“A false one.”
Massimo understood.
“Make them believe the trust amendment worked.”
Gabriel nodded.
“They’ll contact whoever is above them.”
“And we follow the contact.”
“Yes.”
Sophie looked between them.
“What about the wedding?”
Massimo’s eyes hardened.
“The wedding happens.”
Lucia stared at her son.
“You cannot be serious.”
“Three hundred guests are already coming.”
“To watch you marry that woman?”
“No.”
Massimo looked at the old files.
“To watch her discover I was never in London.”
Marco’s phone buzzed.
A message from the forensic team.
They had identified the doctor connected to Massimo’s draft death certificate.
Dr. Leonard Brooks.
LB.
Massimo stared at the name.
“That’s too easy.”
Gabriel saw it.
“Because it’s wrong.”
“What?”
“Leonard Brooks is a front.”
“Then who is LB?”
Gabriel looked toward Lucia.
Lucia’s face had lost all color.
Massimo noticed.
“Mom.”
She shook her head.
“Not here.”
“You know.”
“Massimo—”
“You know who LB is.”
Lucia closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Sophie stared at her.
Massimo crouched beside the wheelchair.
“Tell me.”
Lucia whispered, “I thought she was gone.”
“She?”
Lucia looked toward Gabriel.
He nodded.
“Tell him.”
Lucia opened her mouth.
Then every light in B3 went out.
Darkness.
Sophie gasped.
Marco drew his weapon.
Emergency lights flashed red.
A metallic crash came from the corridor.
“Stay here,” Massimo ordered.
He and Marco rushed outside.
The elevator display was moving.
Someone was coming down.
B1.
B2.
Massimo positioned himself beside the doors.
Marco took the opposite side.
The elevator reached B3.
Nothing happened.
Then the doors opened.
Empty.
Massimo frowned.
A phone lay on the floor.
It began ringing.
Marco looked at him.
Massimo picked it up.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A distorted voice said, “You were supposed to stay in London.”
The line disconnected.
Massimo turned toward the archive room.
“Sophie?”
No answer.
He ran inside.
Lucia was there.
Gabriel was there.
Sophie was gone.
The Margaret Bennett file had disappeared with her.
Then Massimo saw something on the table.
Sophie's bloodstained white apron.
A fresh message had been written across it.
BRING THE ORIGINAL TRUST TO THE WEDDING.
Massimo’s phone buzzed.
A photograph arrived.
Sophie sat in the back seat of a moving car.
May you like
Beside her was Vivian.
And in the front passenger seat, turning slowly toward the camera, was the person Lucia had been too terrified to name.
