Chapter 3 - The Fifty-Million-Dollar Lie
“Leo!”
Alessandra rushed to the window.
Massimo caught her before she climbed onto the sill.
“Wait.”
“My son!”
“Look.”
He pointed downward.
No ladder.
No rope.
No footprints on the narrow layer of rainwater coating the ledge.
Then they heard giggling.
From the closet.
Alessandra tore the door open.
Leo sat inside beneath Massimo’s jacket.
Teresa crouched beside him.
“What happened?” Alessandra gasped.
Teresa looked confused.
“He woke from a nightmare. He wanted to hide.”
Alessandra dropped to her knees and pulled him against her.
Massimo remained at the doorway.
His gun lowered.
But his eyes went to the open window.
“Who opened that?”
Teresa shook her head.
“It was closed.”
Massimo called Marco.
Within minutes, guards searched every room.
Nobody was found.
Yet somebody had entered.
That changed everything.
Massimo moved Alessandra and Leo into his own suite.
“You sleep here.”
“And you?”
“Outside.”
“You have fifty rooms.”
“I have one room nobody enters without crossing me.”
That answer ended the argument.
After Leo fell asleep, Alessandra returned to the study with Massimo.
The hospital file was gone.
“Did you see the name?” he asked.
“No.”
It was a lie.
She had seen the beginning.
MASS—
Massimo?
Impossible.
She had never met him before that night.
Leo’s biological father was Daniel Mercer.
At least that was what Alessandra had believed.
Daniel had disappeared when she was six months pregnant.
No goodbye.
No support.
Nothing.
Three years later, Alessandra had stopped expecting answers.
Now she wondered whether Daniel Mercer had ever existed.
Massimo poured coffee.
“You’re lying.”
She stared.
“Excuse me?”
“You saw something.”
“You’re remarkably annoying.”
“I’m alive.”
“You keep using that as justification.”
“It keeps working.”
Alessandra sat.
“Tell me about your father.”
Massimo’s expression changed.
“Why?”
“MRC.”
He studied her.
“Marcello Renato Costa.”
“What happened to him?”
“He was murdered.”
“By whom?”
“If I knew, they would be dead.”
Simple.
Not dramatic.
That made it worse.
“What did he do?”
“Shipping. Construction. Protection.”
“That is a creative résumé.”
Massimo almost smiled.
“He controlled the docks.”
“And after he died?”
“My uncle ran things until I was old enough.”
“Which uncle?”
“Salvatore.”
The name struck something in Alessandra’s memory.
She turned to the computer.
“Spell it.”
Massimo did.
She searched her copied records.
Nothing.
Then she tried an abbreviation.
S. Costa.
Seven transactions appeared.
Massimo leaned closer.
They totaled $18.4 million.
“Your uncle?” she asked.
“He died six years ago.”
“Convenient.”
Massimo’s jaw tightened.
“He raised me.”
“I’m not accusing him.”
“You’re thinking it.”
“I’m an auditor. Thinking suspicious things is how I pay rent.”
“You won’t be paying rent for a while.”
She looked at him.
“That sounded disturbingly permanent.”
Before he could answer, Marco entered.
“We found the breach.”
“Where?”
“Roof.”
Massimo stood.
“Camera?”
“Disabled for ninety seconds.”
“Inside help?”
“Has to be.”
Massimo became cold.
“Lock everyone down.”
Marco hesitated.
“There’s more.”
He handed Massimo a small envelope.
“Found under the boy’s window.”
Massimo opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Alessandra took it.
Her knees nearly failed.
The picture showed her leaving the hospital three years earlier.
Leo was in her arms.
Behind her stood a man.
Daniel Mercer.
Except his face was clearer than Alessandra had ever seen it.
Massimo took the photograph.
He stared at Daniel.
Then his entire expression changed.
“You know him,” Alessandra whispered.
Massimo looked up.
“Where did you meet this man?”
“Daniel?”
“Where?”
“At Vantage. Four years ago.”
“That wasn’t his name.”
Alessandra felt the room tilt.
“Who was he?”
Massimo put the photograph down.
“My cousin.”
She stopped breathing.
“His name was Matteo Costa.”
The silence became unbearable.
Alessandra looked toward the ceiling.
Toward Leo.
“Then Leo—”
“Is Costa blood.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Massimo stepped closer.
“Alessandra.”
She backed away.
“You don’t get to say his name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like he belongs to you.”
His expression hardened.
“I didn’t.”
“You thought it.”
Massimo said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Alessandra grabbed the photograph.
“Your cousin abandoned me.”
“Matteo disappeared.”
“He left.”
“No.”
“You weren’t there.”
“He disappeared four months before your son was born.”
Alessandra froze.
“What?”
“We thought he was dead.”
“Thought?”
“No body.”
“Then why didn’t he tell me?”
Massimo looked at the photograph.
“Maybe he couldn’t.”
The computer chimed.
A new email had arrived.
No sender.
One attachment.
A video.
Massimo clicked it.
Matteo appeared on-screen.
Alive.
Older.
Terrified.
He looked directly into the camera.
“If Alessandra is watching this, they found her.”
She covered her mouth.
Matteo continued.
“Do not trust Vantage. Do not trust the police. And whatever Massimo tells you—”
The video glitched.
Massimo leaned closer.
Matteo’s face returned.
“—Leo is the reason Marcello Costa was murdered.”
May you like
The screen went black.
Then someone downstairs screamed.
