Chapter 2 - The Woman Behind the Wall
Matteo did not run.
Men who ran showed panic.
He took Sophie's hand, placed her beside one of the guards, and said, "You stay with Marco until I come back."
Sophie grabbed his sleeve.
"Don't leave me."
He looked at her frightened face.
"I am going to find your mother."
"Promise?"
Matteo rarely made promises.
Promises created obligations.
Obligations created weaknesses.
But he looked at the girl whose mother had apparently trusted him more than anyone else in his own mansion.
"I promise."
Sophie released him.
Matteo followed Luca toward the security office.
Isabella remained behind.
He stopped halfway through the doorway.
"You too."
Her face tightened.
"Matteo—"
"Move."
She obeyed.
The security room had twelve monitors lining one wall.
Luca pointed at the fourth.
A black-and-white camera feed showed the room they had just left.
The broken door.
The desk.
The wardrobe.
No person.
Matteo stared.
"You said someone was standing there."
"There was."
"Replay it."
Luca pulled up footage from three minutes earlier.
The image flickered.
For four seconds, a woman stood beside the wardrobe.
Her back faced the camera.
She wore a maid's uniform.
Dark skirt.
White collar.
Light-brown hair pinned back.
Sophie's mother.
"Freeze."
Luca stopped the frame.
Matteo leaned closer.
"Timestamp?"
"Ten minutes after we left."
"Impossible."
"Unless there's another entrance."
Matteo looked at Isabella.
She stared at the monitor.
"You know something."
"No."
"Stop lying."
"I'm not."
He pointed to the frozen image.
"Elena disappeared three nights ago. Five minutes after I break into my father's old office, she appears on a camera that was disconnected. And you expect me to believe you know nothing?"
Isabella's eyes filled with fear.
"Matteo, some things your father buried because they needed to stay buried."
"My father is dead."
"That doesn't mean his enemies are."
Matteo stepped closer.
"What is Room 317?"
Isabella looked away.
He caught her chin and turned her face back—not violently, but firmly.
"Look at me."
She did.
"If Elena is alive, every second you waste matters."
Isabella closed her eyes.
"When your father died, he left instructions with three people."
"Who?"
"Your uncle Carlo."
Matteo's expression changed.
Carlo Valenti had helped raise him after Alessandro's death.
"And?"
"Father Benedetti."
The retired priest who had known the Valenti family for decades.
"And the third?"
Isabella opened her eyes.
"My mother."
Matteo went still.
"Your mother died seven years ago."
"Yes."
"What were the instructions?"
"To protect something your father discovered."
"What?"
"I never knew the whole story."
"That's convenient."
"My mother made me swear I'd never ask."
Matteo laughed darkly.
"And apparently everyone in this city spent my childhood making promises about my life except me."
Luca interrupted.
"Boss."
A second camera showed movement.
The wardrobe door.
It opened by itself.
Matteo stared.
A hand appeared from inside.
Then disappeared.
"Get back there," Matteo ordered.
They rushed to the room.
This time Matteo entered first.
The wardrobe stood open.
He pushed the clothes aside.
Wooden backing.
He ran his hand along it.
One panel shifted.
Hidden door.
He looked at Isabella.
"You've been inside?"
"No."
He pushed.
Nothing.
Then he remembered the brass key.
Matteo retrieved it from his pocket.
Near the base of the wardrobe was a tiny keyhole nearly invisible beneath carved wood.
The brass key fit.
Click.
The rear panel opened inward.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
Luca stared.
"I've managed security here for six years."
"And didn't know this existed."
"No."
Matteo switched on his phone flashlight.
"You stay upstairs."
Luca frowned.
"Absolutely not."
"That wasn't a suggestion."
"Boss."
"If this passage comes out somewhere else, somebody needs to control this room."
Luca reluctantly nodded.
Matteo looked at Isabella.
"You're coming."
She stared into the darkness.
"No."
"Then tell me why you're afraid."
"I don't know what's down there."
"Neither do I."
Matteo started descending.
Isabella followed because she knew refusing would only make him more suspicious.
The staircase ended in an underground corridor lined with old brick.
Electric lights had recently been installed.
That mattered.
This was not an abandoned tunnel.
Someone had been maintaining it.
Matteo touched one bulb.
Warm.
"Used today."
Isabella wrapped her arms around herself.
They continued.
On the wall were small painted numbers.
Matteo's pulse slowed rather than quickened.
Danger made him calm.
Then—
A steel door.
The number looked newer than the surrounding brick.
Matteo tried the handle.
Locked.
He knocked three times.
Once.
Seven times.
Silence.
Then a woman's voice came faintly from inside.
"Matteo?"
Isabella gasped.
He stepped closer.
"Elena?"
A sob came through the door.
"Thank God."
Matteo immediately examined the lock.
"Are you hurt?"
"Yes."
"Is anyone with you?"
A pause.
"Elena?"
"Not anymore."
Matteo's eyes hardened.
"Who put you in there?"
She began crying.
"Please get Sophie out of the house."
Matteo looked at Isabella.
"Why?"
"Because they know she saw me take the ledger."
"What ledger?"
"The one your father died protecting."
Matteo felt the words settle like ice.
"My father died from a heart attack."
"No."
Isabella stepped backward.
Matteo looked at her.
Elena continued.
"Your father was murdered."
Matteo said nothing.
For eleven years, he had accepted the story.
Alessandro Valenti collapsing in his study.
Doctor arriving too late.
No sign of violence.
Natural cardiac failure.
"Who killed him?" Matteo asked.
Elena's breathing became ragged.
"I don't know which one gave the order."
"Which one of who?"
"The families."
Matteo closed his eyes briefly.
The organization his father had built was not merely criminal.
It was political.
Businessmen.
Judges.
Police officials.
Shipping executives.
All tied through favors and debts.
"What did you find?"
"A ledger."
"Where?"
"In this room."
"Why?"
"Your father hid it."
"How did you know?"
"My mother worked for him."
That connected something.
Elena's mother, Lucia Romano, had been a maid in the Valenti household decades earlier.
"She knew?"
"She helped him hide it."
Matteo touched the steel door.
"Stand back."
He drew his pistol and fired twice into the lock.
The shots thundered through the tunnel.
He kicked.
The door opened.
Elena Romano collapsed toward him.
Matteo caught her.
Her maid's uniform was torn.
A bruise darkened one cheek.
Blood had dried along her hairline.
But she was alive.
"Mommy," she whispered.
"Sophie is safe."
Elena began crying.
For the first time, Matteo felt fury break through his control.
"Who did this?"
Elena looked toward Isabella.
Isabella stepped back.
"No."
Elena's expression shifted.
"You."
"I didn't hurt you."
"You brought them here."
Isabella shook her head rapidly.
"I didn't know they would take you."
"Who?" Matteo demanded.
Neither woman answered.
Matteo drew his phone.
No signal underground.
"Move. We're going upstairs."
Elena grabbed his wrist.
"No."
"What?"
"The ledger."
She pointed behind her.
Room 317 was not a cell.
It was an archive.
Shelves lined the walls.
Old books.
Boxes.
Files.
On a metal table sat a thick black ledger.
Matteo walked toward it.
Elena stopped him.
"Don't touch it."
"Why?"
"They've been looking for it for eleven years."
"Then I definitely want it."
"Matteo, your father wrote names in that book that could destroy half this city."
"Good."
"Not just criminals."
He looked at her.
"Who?"
"Police commissioners. Judges. Senators. Men who built careers pretending your father was the only monster."
Matteo picked up the ledger.
"Then tonight sounds like a good night for honesty."
Elena stared at him.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain upstairs."
A metallic sound echoed from the corridor.
Matteo raised his gun.
Footsteps.
More than one person.
Isabella whispered, "They're here."
"Who?"
She looked at him.
"My uncle."
Matteo frowned.
"Your uncle?"
"Carlo."
His blood went cold.
Carlo Valenti was not Isabella's uncle.
He was Matteo's.
Unless—
Matteo's gaze changed.
"What did you just say?"
Isabella realized her mistake.
Elena whispered, "She never told you."
"Told me what?"
The footsteps grew louder.
Isabella backed toward the wall.
"My mother wasn't a Caruso."
Matteo stared.
"Her real name was Valenti."
The first armed shadow appeared at the end of the tunnel.
Isabella looked toward it and whispered:
"Matteo, Carlo isn't your uncle."
May you like
The man stepped into the light.
And called Matteo by the name only his father had ever used.
