Chapter 4 - The Man at Her Apartment Door
By the time Matteo reached Bellaforte, the front doors were locked.
Frank circled toward the kitchen entrance.
Tessa followed.
“You stay in the car,” Matteo ordered.
“No.”
“Tessa.”
“Jenna is in there because of me.”
“She’s in there because Mercer is dangerous.”
“And I’m going inside.”
Matteo looked furious.
Then he handed her his phone.
“Stay behind me.”
The restaurant was dark.
Tables stood untouched from the previous night.
They found Jenna inside the wine cellar.
Alive.
Alone.
Her wrists were tied.
Tessa ran to her.
“Where’s David?”
“He left.”
“When?”
“Five minutes ago.”
“What did he want?”
Jenna looked at Matteo.
“Her.”
Tessa froze.
“He kept asking whether Tessa knew who her father was.”
The words struck harder than the gunshot had.
“My father?”
Jenna nodded.
“He said Anna lied about everything.”
Matteo’s gaze sharpened.
Tessa remembered every form she had ever filled out.
Father: unknown.
Anna had always said Tessa’s father disappeared before she was born.
“What else?”
“He said Moretti would kill her if he learned the truth.”
Matteo’s expression darkened.
“I’m standing here.”
Jenna looked terrified.
“Not you.”
Silence.
“Your father.”
Matteo’s face emptied.
“My father is dead.”
Jenna swallowed.
“David said he wasn’t.”
That afternoon, Matteo opened records he had not touched since Salvatore Moretti’s funeral.
His father had supposedly died from a heart attack aboard a private yacht.
The coffin had been closed.
Matteo had never seen the body.
Luca had arranged the funeral.
That realization entered the room quietly.
Matteo looked toward Luca.
“You identified him.”
Luca nodded.
“You told me the body was damaged.”
“It was.”
“Did you see his face?”
Luca hesitated.
Matteo stood.
Frank shifted near the door.
“Did you see his face?”
“No.”
Matteo’s voice became dangerously soft.
“Get out.”
Luca left.
Tessa watched him go.
“You think Luca knew?”
“I think everyone around me knows something I don’t.”
“Welcome to my week.”
Despite himself, Matteo almost smiled.
Then Tessa’s phone rang.
Her landlord.
Someone was standing outside her apartment asking for her.
An older man.
Italian accent.
Silver hair.
A scar along his chin.
Matteo turned pale when Tessa repeated the description.
“That’s impossible.”
“You’ve said that a lot lately.”
He showed her an old family photograph.
Tessa looked at the man beside a younger Matteo.
Same jaw.
Same scar.
Salvatore Moretti.
Her phone rang again.
This time she answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then an older male voice said in Italian:
“Teresa.”
Tessa froze.
Nobody called her Teresa.
Nobody except her mother.
“Who is this?”
“You have Anna’s eyes.”
Her hand began shaking.
Matteo took the phone.
“Father?”
Silence.
Then laughter.
“You always were slow, Matteo.”
The call ended.
Tessa stared at him.
Matteo lowered the phone.
For the first time since she had met him, fear appeared openly on his face.
Then somebody knocked three times on the safe-house door.
Frank checked the camera.
Nobody was there.
Only a package.
Inside was Anna’s missing letter.
May you like
The seal had already been broken.
And beneath it was a photograph of Tessa as a newborn in Salvatore Moretti’s arms.
