Chapter 4 - The Night Matteo Chose Me Over His Empire
We did not go alone.
Matteo barely allowed me to go at all.
“That message is bait.”
“I know.”
“Then you're staying here.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“Your mother is inside that house.”
“And whoever sent those messages knows exactly how to manipulate you.”
“They're manipulating you too.”
His stare sharpened.
“How?”
“By making you choose between keeping me safe and getting to your mother.”
He went quiet.
That was the first time I understood the real strategy.
The traitor wasn't simply stealing.
He was pulling at Matteo's loyalties.
Gabriel.
His mother.
Me.
Every move forced him to decide which person mattered most.
And every decision created another weakness.
“We go together,” I said.
Matteo looked furious.
Not at me.
At the fact that I was right.
The drive to his residence took thirteen minutes.
It felt longer.
Three SUVs.
Security front and rear.
Luca in the vehicle behind us.
Gabriel stayed at the office with Marcus.
Matteo sat beside me.
He didn't speak for most of the trip.
Then:
“I meant what I said earlier.”
I looked over.
“About?”
“Jealousy.”
Of all the possible conversations, I hadn't expected that one.
“Now?”
“I may not get another quiet minute tonight.”
“That's encouraging.”
His mouth almost moved.
Then serious again.
“I've cared about you for a long time.”
I looked out the window.
Manhattan passed in blurred lights.
“Matteo.”
“I know this isn't the moment.”
“It really isn't.”
“But if something happens—”
“No.”
He stopped.
I turned toward him.
“You don't get to confess something enormous because you're afraid one of us won't survive the evening.”
His eyes held mine.
“You think that's what I'm doing?”
“I think fear makes people say things they should have said when life was normal.”
He considered that.
“Then when this is over, I'll say it again.”
My heart betrayed me by beating harder.
I folded my hands.
“When this is over, I might resign.”
His entire expression changed.
“That wasn't the answer I expected.”
“I didn't give you an answer.”
“You said resign.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I can't work for a man while trying to figure out whether I'm in love with him.”
Silence.
Complete.
For once, Matteo Duca had absolutely nothing to say.
The SUV stopped.
I opened my door.
He caught my wrist.
Gently.
“You're in love with me?”
I looked at his hand.
He released me immediately.
“Survive the evening,” I said.
Then I got out.
The Duca residence occupied a private townhouse hidden behind an ordinary stone facade.
Normally, two guards stood outside.
Tonight, none.
The front door was unlocked.
Luca arrived beside us.
“Power is on. Security system is down.”
Matteo entered first.
I followed despite his look.
The foyer was empty.
“Sofia?”
Nothing.
“Rosa?”
Silence.
Then a sound upstairs.
A chair scraping.
Luca motioned toward the staircase.
We moved.
At the top, light spilled from Matteo's study.
The door stood partially open.
Matteo pushed it.
Sofia sat in a chair.
Alive.
Her wrists were tied loosely in front of her.
Rosa stood beside her.
Also alive.
Both furious.
Sofia saw Matteo.
“About time.”
He crossed the room.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He untied her.
“What happened?”
“Daniel Pike arrived with paperwork. Said you sent him.”
The missing security supervisor.
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Why didn't you call?”
“He took our phones.”
Rosa held up hers.
“Found them in the kitchen after he left.”
I looked around.
Nothing appeared stolen.
Matteo's study safe remained closed.
“What did he want?”
Sofia looked at me.
“You.”
My skin went cold.
“Me?”
“He kept asking when Elena would arrive.”
“Did you send the messages?”
“No.”
I showed her.
Her face hardened.
“That wasn't me.”
Of course.
Another copied identity.
Daniel Pike had wanted me in the house.
Why?
I looked at the desk.
A laptop.
Papers.
A small red folder.
Then I saw the calendar.
Printed.
Mine.
Open to that day's page.
The fake 6:30 appointment circled.
Under it, written in pen:
FINAL VERIFICATION.
“Matteo.”
He came over.
Luca photographed it.
“What verification?” I asked.
Nobody knew.
Then Rosa spoke.
“Daniel asked Mrs. Duca to sign something.”
Sofia nodded.
“He said it concerned a property transfer.”
“Did you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“What property?”
“He didn't show me.”
“Why come here?”
Sofia hesitated.
“Because I'm still trustee on one company.”
Matteo's expression changed.
“Which?”
“Duca Legacy Holdings.”
He swore.
I knew the name.
Duca Legacy Holdings wasn't the largest company.
But it was the oldest.
It owned properties purchased by Matteo's father decades earlier.
More importantly, it controlled voting rights in the family trust.
If someone gained control of Legacy Holdings—
They could influence the entire corporate structure.
“Twenty-eight million wasn't the goal,” I said.
Matteo looked at me.
“It was a test.”
Luca understood.
“They wanted to confirm the forged authorization would pass.”
“And tonight they needed Sofia's signature for the real transfer.”
Sofia's face went pale.
“What transfer?”
Matteo opened his home terminal.
The system resisted.
Marcus connected remotely.
Within minutes, they found it.
A pending governance amendment.
Submitted two weeks earlier.
Signed electronically by Matteo Duca.
Verified by Elena Donovan.
Awaiting trustee confirmation from Sofia Duca.
None of us had seen it.
The amendment would transfer temporary voting authority in Legacy Holdings during a declared executive incapacity.
“To whom?” I asked.
Marcus enlarged the file.
The recipient field was hidden behind an encrypted entity number.
He worked to decode it.
Matteo paced.
I watched him.
This wasn't theft anymore.
Someone was preparing to take his empire legally.
Not by attacking him.
By making documents say he had surrendered control.
And I had supposedly verified everything.
Marcus finally spoke through the laptop.
“I have the beneficiary.”
“Name.”
He paused.
“Vale Strategic Counsel.”
Everyone looked at Nicholas.
Matteo's attorney.
Nicholas Vale.
My stomach dropped.
Matteo immediately called him.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Luca contacted the office.
Nicholas had left forty minutes earlier.
Without telling anyone.
Matteo looked at Sofia.
“How long has Nicholas been trustee counsel?”
“Since before your father died.”
That meant he understood every weakness.
Every signature.
Every clause.
Every way to remove Matteo without firing a shot.
But something still felt wrong.
“Too easy,” I said.
Matteo turned.
“What?”
“Nicholas's company name is sitting in the beneficiary field.”
“He thought we'd never see it.”
“Maybe.”
I looked at the document.
“Nicholas is a lawyer. A very good one. Would he hide a takeover behind a company with his own surname?”
Sofia nodded slowly.
“Elena's right.”
Someone wanted us to find Nicholas.
Just as they wanted us to find Gabriel's ring.
Frame one person.
Then another.
Keep Matteo moving.
Keep us suspicious.
Keep us from seeing the real pattern.
I went back to the forged calendar.
Every appointment had initials.
M.D.
E.D.
Sometimes locations.
But one set appeared repeatedly beside the financial events.
C.V.
I had assumed it meant corporate verification.
What if it didn't?
Carlo Venti.
Executive security.
The man who had stood ten feet away that morning while Matteo noticed the mark on my neck.
The man with access to every schedule change.
The man who had been inside Matteo's home the night the shadow account was created.
Except his security logs said he hadn't left the security room.
Logs could be changed.
Marcus had already proven that.
“Where is Carlo?” I asked.
Matteo froze.
We had left him at the office.
With Gabriel.
My phone rang.
Gabriel.
I answered immediately.
“Gabriel?”
His voice was barely audible.
“Elena.”
“What happened?”
A crash behind him.
Then breathing.
“Gabriel?”
“Carlo knows.”
My heart stopped.
“Knows what?”
“That I found Victor.”
Matteo grabbed the phone.
“Gabriel, where are you?”
“Conference room.”
“Where's Carlo?”
Silence.
Then Gabriel whispered:
“Standing outside the door.”
The line disconnected.
Matteo looked at Luca.
“Move.”
We ran.
Before we reached the stairs, my phone buzzed again.
Not Gabriel.
A new calendar invitation.
8:00 P.M. — EXECUTIVE CONFERENCE ROOM.
ATTENDEES: MATTEO DUCA / ELENA DONOVAN / CARLO VENTI.
May you like
Under the invitation was one sentence.
ONLY TWO OF YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO WALK OUT.
