Chapter 4 - The Dead Woman at Pier Seventeen
Valentina's entire childhood rearranged itself in one impossible instant.
Funeral photographs.
A closed coffin.
Her mother's trembling hands.
People saying Lucia had died while visiting relatives overseas.
Twelve years of grief.
And now Lucia Marchese sat fifteen yards away.
Alive.
“Nonna.”
Lucia tried to stand.
Domenico pressed her back into the chair.
Matteo stepped forward.
“Take your hands off her.”
His uncle smiled.
“Still giving orders.”
“Last warning.”
Domenico laughed softly.
“You sound like your father.”
Matteo's face went still.
“That's intended as a compliment.”
“It wasn't.”
Valentina moved beside Matteo.
“Why did you fake my grandmother's death?”
“I didn't.”
Lucia answered.
“I did.”
Valentina looked at her.
The betrayal hurt more than she expected.
“You let us bury an empty coffin.”
“To keep you alive.”
“You watched us grieve.”
“Every day.”
“From where?”
Domenico answered.
“Protection.”
Lucia spat the word.
“Prison.”
Domenico sighed.
“She can be dramatic.”
Valentina's hands curled.
“Don't speak about her.”
Domenico smiled at her.
“There she is. Giuseppe's granddaughter.”
Matteo shifted protectively closer.
Domenico noticed.
His amusement deepened.
“Oh.”
Valentina hated the sound of it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“I wondered why Matteo came personally.”
Matteo's voice sharpened.
“This has nothing to do with her.”
“It already has everything to do with her.”
Domenico looked at Lucia.
“Tell them.”
Lucia refused.
Domenico leaned down.
“Tell them why Antonio carried the ring.”
Lucia looked at Valentina.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“That ring belonged to Giuseppe.”
Valentina remembered the initials.
V.M.
“But my initials—”
“Not yours.”
“Whose?”
Lucia hesitated.
“Vittorio Marchese.”
Valentina frowned.
“My father?”
“No.”
The world seemed to tilt.
Lucia whispered:
“Your uncle.”
“I don't have an uncle.”
“You did.”
Domenico smiled.
“Now we're getting somewhere.”
Lucia explained.
Giuseppe had a younger brother named Vittorio.
Brilliant.
Ambitious.
Cruel.
Where Giuseppe wanted to expose Domenico, Vittorio wanted to join him.
He sold information about Paolo Bellandi's investigation.
“He betrayed them,” Lucia said.
Matteo stared.
“Vittorio gave Domenico my father's location.”
“Yes.”
“Then Giuseppe was blamed.”
“Yes.”
Matteo looked at Domenico.
“You killed him.”
Domenico didn't deny it.
“My brother was weak.”
Valentina heard Matteo breathe in.
Very slowly.
That restraint frightened her more than rage would have.
“Where is Vittorio?” she asked.
Lucia closed her eyes.
Domenico answered.
“Alive.”
“Where?”
“Closer than you think.”
Antonio groaned from the chair.
Valentina's medical instincts took over.
“He needs help.”
Domenico gestured.
“By all means.”
Matteo stopped her.
“Trap.”
“I know.”
“He could be wired.”
“I know.”
Valentina stared at him.
“And he's still dying.”
Matteo released her.
She approached Antonio carefully.
The wire beneath his chair ran only to the recorder.
No explosives.
Valentina checked his pulse.
Weak.
His surgical incision had partially opened.
“He needs a hospital.”
Domenico chuckled.
“You doctors have such little imagination.”
Valentina ignored him.
She looked at Antonio.
His eyes opened.
“Val.”
“Don't talk.”
“Pocket.”
“What?”
“My pocket.”
She reached into his jacket.
Found a small flash drive.
Antonio closed his hand around hers.
“Everything.”
Domenico saw.
His smile vanished.
“Give me that.”
Valentina stood.
“No.”
Domenico's men emerged from behind cargo stacks.
Four.
Then six.
Matteo's men raised their weapons.
The warehouse snapped into deadly stillness.
Valentina remained between them.
“Anyone fires,” she said, “Antonio may bleed to death before you finish proving who has the largest ego.”
Matteo almost smiled.
Domenico did not.
“You're remarkably insolent.”
“My grandmother raised me.”
Lucia actually laughed.
For one beautiful second, Valentina heard the sound she'd thought lost forever.
Domenico's face darkened.
Matteo stepped forward.
“Let Lucia and Antonio leave.”
“And the drive?”
“Stays with me.”
“You haven't even seen what's on it.”
“I don't need to.”
“You should.”
Domenico's smile returned.
“It shows your father meeting Giuseppe Marchese the night he died.”
Matteo said nothing.
“And?”
“And Giuseppe has a gun.”
Valentina looked at Lucia.
Her grandmother shook her head violently.
“Edited.”
Domenico shrugged.
“Maybe.”
Matteo stared at the drive.
Doubt entered his expression.
Valentina saw it.
She stepped beside him.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“My grandmother lied to me for twelve years.”
His jaw tightened.
“That's not helping.”
“But I know why she lied. Fear. Not profit.”
Domenico laughed.
“You know almost nothing.”
Valentina ignored him.
“Your uncle has had thirty-seven years to show you evidence. Why now?”
Matteo's eyes changed.
The doubt disappeared.
He looked at Domenico.
“Because Antonio stole the original files.”
Antonio smiled weakly.
Domenico's face confirmed it.
Matteo understood.
The flash drive didn't contain evidence against Giuseppe.
It contained evidence against Domenico.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Domenico looked toward the warehouse doors.
Valentina blinked.
“Police?”
Matteo shook his head.
“I didn't call them.”
Lucia had.
A tiny emergency transmitter rested beneath her chair.
Domenico saw it.
His expression transformed.
“You stupid woman.”
He grabbed Lucia.
Matteo moved.
Everything happened at once.
Enzo tackled one man.
Carlo disarmed another.
Valentina dragged Antonio backward.
Matteo reached Domenico.
No shots.
Only bodies colliding and shouting.
Domenico shoved Lucia aside and escaped through a rear door.
Matteo started after him.
Valentina shouted.
“Matteo!”
He stopped.
Lucia lay on the concrete.
Blood at her temple.
Matteo chose Lucia.
Not revenge.
He came back.
That choice changed the way Valentina saw him forever.
They got Lucia and Antonio into ambulances.
Police arrived.
The drive went into evidence—but not before Enzo secretly copied it onto Matteo's secure laptop.
At the hospital, Lucia needed stitches but no surgery.
Antonio returned to intensive care.
Valentina sat beside her grandmother.
Neither knew where to begin.
“I hated you,” Valentina finally said.
Lucia flinched.
“After the funeral. I hated you for leaving.”
“I know.”
“I stopped speaking Sicilian for two years because it sounded like you.”
Lucia cried silently.
Valentina took her hand.
“Why didn't you come back?”
“Domenico found me before I could.”
“He kept you prisoner twelve years?”
“Not exactly.”
Valentina frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Lucia looked toward the door.
“He controlled me with something worse than locks.”
“What?”
“Your mother.”
Valentina's stomach dropped.
“My mother died six years ago.”
Lucia looked at her.
“No, tesoro.”
Valentina stood.
“Stop.”
“Listen to me.”
“I watched her die.”
“You watched a woman die.”
Valentina stared.
“What are you saying?”
Lucia's voice shook.
“Your mother wasn't who you believed she was.”
The room door opened.
Matteo entered carrying the laptop.
His face was pale.
“Valentina.”
She turned.
“What?”
“We opened Antonio's files.”
“And?”
“There are surveillance photographs.”
“Of Domenico?”
Matteo swallowed.
“No.”
He turned the screen toward her.
The newest photograph had been taken three days earlier.
It showed a woman entering Valentina's apartment building.
A woman with Valentina's mother's face.
Underneath was a file name.
TARGET: ELENA MARCHESE.
Valentina stared at the impossible image.
Then her apartment security app sent an alert.
May you like
FRONT DOOR OPENED.
Someone had just entered her home.
