Chapter 6 - The Secret Room Behind The North Wing Wall
The first thing I heard was the alarm.
Not the loud, dramatic kind that announced danger to everyone.
A silent security alarm.
The kind only people inside the Moretti estate knew existed.
And that meant one thing.
The person who broke into the archive room wasn't a stranger.
They knew the house.
They knew the security system.
They knew exactly where to go.
I looked at my guards.
“How long ago?”
The guard touched his earpiece.
“Less than two minutes, sir.”
“Did you see who entered?”
A pause.
“No.”
That answer bothered me.
My security team was trained to notice everything.
A person walking through a hallway.
A vehicle approaching the gate.
A camera going offline.
But someone had entered the oldest part of my house without being seen.
That meant whoever it was…
was already familiar with our weaknesses.
I looked at the people standing around me.
Marco.
Victor.
Elena.
Thomas.
Everyone had a reason to hide something.
Everyone had a connection to my sister.
Everyone had been lying.
“Lock the house.”
My guards immediately moved.
“Sir?”
“No one leaves.”
Marco looked at me.
“You are making a mistake.”
I turned toward him.
“I have spent eight years making mistakes.”
The words came out colder than I expected.
“Tonight, I stop.”
Nobody answered.
Because everyone knew.
The old Luca Moretti would have demanded loyalty.
The old Luca would have trusted his family.
The old Luca would have believed that blood meant something.
But the old Luca had buried his sister because he trusted the wrong people.
That man was gone.
I walked toward the archive room.
Sophie followed.
I stopped.
“Sophie.”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
“You need to stay here.”
Her small face changed.
“But—”
“No.”
I softened my voice.
“You already did something very brave.”
She looked down.
“My mommy said brave people tell the truth.”
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Because a four-year-old child understood something that powerful men had forgotten.
Truth required courage.
I crouched down.
“Stay with Elena.”
She nodded reluctantly.
Then she whispered:
“Be careful, Mr. Moretti.”
I smiled faintly.
“I will.”
But as I stood, I realized something.
I wasn't only protecting myself anymore.
I was protecting the little girl who carried my sister's final message.
The archive room was located beneath the eastern wing of the mansion.
A place almost nobody visited.
My grandfather built it as a private family record room.
Birth certificates.
Business documents.
Old photographs.
Letters.
Secrets.
Every powerful family had a place where they buried their history.
This was ours.
And someone had just broken into it.
When I arrived, the door was open.
That alone was impossible.
The archive door required a fingerprint.
My fingerprint.
Nobody else's.
I looked at the damaged lock.
Someone had forced it.
But not from outside.
From inside.
I stopped.
“What?”
One of my guards looked confused.
I touched the door.
“The damage is wrong.”
He looked closer.
“What do you mean?”
“If someone broke in, the damage would be outside.”
I pushed the door open slightly.
“But this…”
I looked at the broken mechanism.
“Someone opened it from inside and wanted it to look like an attack.”
The room became silent.
Someone inside the mansion had staged the break-in.
I entered.
The archive was a disaster.
Files scattered everywhere.
Old photographs ripped from frames.
Cabinets left open.
Someone wasn't searching randomly.
They knew exactly what they wanted.
I walked slowly.
Looking.
Thinking.
Then I saw it.
A drawer.
Half-open.
The drawer where my father's old business records were kept.
I pulled it open.
Empty.
My stomach tightened.
“What was there?”
Thomas stood behind me.
He looked at the empty drawer.
Then his face changed.
“Sir…”
“What?”
“That was where your father kept the original company transfer documents.”
I turned.
“My father?”
Thomas nodded.
“Before he died.”
I stared at the empty space.
“Why would someone want those?”
Nobody answered.
Then Victor spoke.
Quietly.
“Because they prove ownership.”
I looked at him.
Everyone turned.
Victor immediately realized his mistake.
“You know what's in those documents.”
His face went pale.
“Luca—”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You have spent fourteen years explaining things to me.”
I pointed toward the empty drawer.
“Now you are going to explain this.”
Victor looked exhausted.
Finally, he whispered:
“Your father changed the inheritance agreement before he died.”
My eyes narrowed.
“And?”
“He removed someone.”
“Who?”
Victor hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
“Marco.”
The name landed heavily.
I looked toward my cousin.
He was standing at the entrance.
Listening.
Marco's face was unreadable.
“You were supposed to inherit part of the company.”
He smiled sadly.
“Is that what Victor told you?”
I looked between them.
“What is the truth?”
Nobody answered.
Then Marco said:
“Your father never trusted me.”
A strange emotion crossed his face.
Not anger.
Pain.
“My uncle raised me after my parents died. I thought he saw me as a son.”
He laughed quietly.
“But when it mattered…”
He looked at me.
“He chose you.”
I didn't speak.
Because I understood something.
Betrayal rarely started with hatred.
Sometimes it started with a wound that never healed.
But pain did not excuse murder.
“Did you kill Alessandra?”
The question filled the room.
Marco looked at me.
And for the first time…
I saw something real in his eyes.
Shock.
“No.”
His answer came instantly.
Too instantly.
I studied him.
“Then why did you go to Elena's room that night?”
Silence.
Marco looked away.
That was the first time he looked guilty.
“I was trying to stop her.”
My heart sank.
“Stop her from what?”
“From giving you the tape.”
The room went completely silent.
I stepped forward.
“You knew.”
Marco closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since that night.”
Eight years.
Eight years he knew.
Eight years he watched me mourn.
Eight years he sat beside me.
I wanted to hate him.
I wanted to believe he was the monster.
But something stopped me.
Because if Marco was the person who wanted the tape destroyed…
why was Victor more afraid?
Why was Victor the person on the recording?
I turned toward him.
“You.”
Victor looked up.
“What?”
“You were in my sister's office.”
His expression changed.
“I told you, I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
A long silence.
Finally, Victor spoke.
“I went there because Alessandra called me.”
“Why?”
“She wanted answers.”
“About what?”
Victor looked at Marco.
Then at me.
“About who was stealing from the family.”
My eyes narrowed.
“And?”
Victor swallowed.
“She discovered the truth.”
“What truth?”
His voice became quieter.
“The person stealing money from the Moretti family…”
A pause.
“Wasn't Marco.”
The room froze.
Marco looked confused.
I turned toward Victor.
“Then who?”
Victor looked at me.
And what he said next changed everything.
“It was someone you trusted more than anyone.”
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Then the lights went out.
Complete darkness.
A second later—
A gunshot echoed through the archive room.
Everyone shouted.
Glass shattered.
Someone fell.
When emergency lights turned on, I saw the impossible.
Victor was on the floor.
Blood spreading across his shirt.
And standing near the broken window…
was someone wearing a black coat.
Someone who should not have been able to enter.
Someone who knew every secret in the house.
The figure looked directly at me.
Then said:
“You should have let the past stay buried, Luca.”
May you like
And before my guards could reach him…
he disappeared into the storm.
