Chapter 8 - The Father Who Was Never Dead
The phone remained pressed against Alessandro’s ear.
Nobody moved.
Nobody even breathed.
Because the voice on the other end belonged to a man who should not exist.
Elena’s father.
A man who had been dead for fifteen years.
I watched Alessandro’s expression carefully.
The anger was gone.
The suspicion was gone.
Only confusion remained.
The kind of confusion that came when reality no longer followed the rules you believed in.
"Who are you?"
Alessandro’s voice was low.
The voice on the phone stayed silent for a moment.
Then it answered.
"The man who tried to save your life."
My heart tightened.
Because I knew that voice.
Not from memory.
From documents.
From old recordings hidden inside the files I had discovered months ago.
My father's voice.
Older.
Rougher.
But unmistakable.
I stepped closer.
"Give me the phone."
Alessandro looked at me.
For a second, I thought he wouldn't.
Then he handed it over.
My fingers shook as I held it.
"Where are you?"
Silence.
Then:
"Elena."
My eyes filled instantly.
Because nobody had called me that way in years.
Not since before I lost my father.
"You're alive."
The voice became quieter.
"I never stopped watching you."
The words made my blood run cold.
"Watching me?"
"Keeping you safe."
I looked around the room.
At Alessandro.
At Mia.
At all the secrets that had followed me since the beginning.
"You let me believe you were dead."
A pause.
"I had no choice."
I almost laughed.
Everyone always said that.
No choice.
Protection.
Necessary lies.
But I was tired of those words.
"You let me raise Mia alone."
His voice changed.
Pain.
Real pain.
"I know."
The answer surprised me.
Because I expected an excuse.
Not regret.
"I know every day you spent afraid."
I looked at Mia.
At my daughter sleeping peacefully in Alessandro’s arms.
"Then why didn't you come back?"
The phone was silent.
Long enough that I thought the call had ended.
Then he said:
"Because if I came back..."
A pause.
"They would have found you."
Everyone in the room became still.
Alessandro stepped closer.
"They?"
The voice heard him.
And became serious.
"Alessandro Duca."
My father knew his name.
Of course he did.
"Your family is not the only family with secrets."
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
"Who are you talking about?"
The answer came immediately.
"The people who built the Duca empire."
The room went silent.
My father continued.
"Your father didn't create everything."
He lowered his voice.
"He inherited something much older."
Alessandro looked at the documents on the desk.
The hidden agreements.
The signatures.
The names.
"From who?"
The answer was barely a whisper.
"From the people who owned your family before you were born."
Nobody spoke.
Because suddenly the entire story was bigger than the Duca family.
Bigger than my father.
Bigger than Mia.
Alessandro looked at Marco.
"You knew."
Marco looked away.
That was enough.
"You knew all of this."
Marco finally answered.
"I knew pieces."
Alessandro's expression hardened.
"You watched everyone lie to me."
Marco's voice became tired.
"I watched people try to keep you alive."
"No."
Alessandro shook his head.
"You watched me live inside a lie."
Nobody argued.
Because that was the truth.
My father spoke again through the phone.
"Elena."
I looked down.
"Yes?"
"You need to leave the mansion."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"Take Mia and leave now."
Alessandro immediately looked at the phone.
"Why?"
My father's answer came quickly.
"Because they know."
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Know what?"
The line became quiet.
Then:
"They know Alessandro found the truth."
The lights flickered.
Everyone looked up.
The same thing happened before.
The mansion went dark for one second.
Then returned.
Alessandro immediately looked toward security cameras.
"Check the perimeter."
One of the guards answered through the speaker.
"Sir..."
His voice sounded different.
Fearful.
"We have a problem."
Alessandro walked toward the control screen.
"What?"
The guard hesitated.
"The cameras are showing everyone outside the mansion."
"Then what's the problem?"
A pause.
"Because there is someone missing."
Alessandro frowned.
"Who?"
The guard swallowed.
"Elena."
Everyone looked at me.
I was standing right there.
Alessandro looked at the screen.
The security footage appeared.
The mansion.
The hallway.
The office.
The nursery.
The entire house.
But on the monitor...
There was another image.
A camera angle nobody recognized.
A hidden camera.
Showing me.
Standing in the office.
From above.
My blood turned cold.
Someone had installed their own surveillance system.
Inside Alessandro’s mansion.
My father’s voice became urgent.
"Elena."
I lifted the phone.
"Yes?"
"Do not trust anyone there."
I looked around.
At Alessandro.
At his mother.
At Marco.
At Adrian.
At everyone.
"Who?"
My father didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"The person who has been protecting you..."
A pause.
"Is the same person who betrayed you."
The call ended.
Nobody spoke.
Alessandro stared at the phone.
Then at me.
"What did he mean?"
I didn't know.
But I knew one thing.
Someone inside that mansion had been lying.
Again.
The security team searched every room.
Nothing.
No intruder.
No hidden entrance.
No explanation.
But that made it worse.
Because whoever had entered...
Had left no trace.
Except one.
A small envelope.
Placed on Mia’s crib.
I saw it first.
My entire body froze.
Alessandro immediately moved in front of me.
"No one touches it."
The security team scanned it.
Safe.
No device.
No threat.
Just paper.
Alessandro opened it himself.
Inside was a single photograph.
He looked at it.
Then handed it to me.
I almost dropped it.
Because the picture showed me.
Not today.
Not yesterday.
Years ago.
Before Mia.
Before Alessandro.
Before everything.
I was standing beside my father.
And beside us...
Was a little girl.
A child I had never seen before.
On the back of the photograph were handwritten words.
My father’s handwriting.
"Your sister is still alive."
I stared at the sentence.
My mind stopped working.
"I don't have a sister."
Nobody answered.
Then Adrian slowly stood up.
Her face had turned pale.
"Elena..."
I looked at her.
"What?"
She stared at the photograph.
Then whispered:
"Yes, you do."
My heart raced.
"How would you know?"
Adrian looked toward the dark hallway.
Because she wasn't looking at the photograph anymore.
She was looking at someone behind me.
Someone who had just entered the room.
Someone who shouldn't have been able to get inside.
May you like
And then Adrian whispered:
"Because she is the person who has been living in this mansion for the past six months."
