Chapter 3 - The Room Behind the Wine Cellar
Clara held the key so tightly its edges hurt.
“My husband put this here?”
Adrian nodded slowly.
“I think so.”
“Start talking.”
Roman said nothing.
He wanted the same thing.
Three years earlier, Eli Ellis had worked as an outside accountant for one of Roman’s shipping companies.
He had discovered duplicate invoices.
At first they looked like bookkeeping errors.
Then Eli noticed the payments were being routed through shell corporations authorized with Roman’s digital credentials.
Millions had moved.
The documents made Roman look responsible.
Eli had believed Roman was responsible.
Until he found transactions approved on days Roman was demonstrably elsewhere.
“Eli came to me,” Adrian said. “He thought someone was framing Roman.”
Clara stared.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He was trying to protect you.”
“That worked wonderfully.”
Adrian accepted the blow.
“He wanted proof before he involved anyone.”
“And then he died.”
“Yes.”
“Was it an accident?”
Adrian did not answer.
Clara stepped closer.
“Was it an accident?”
“No.”
The word broke something inside her.
For three years, Clara had blamed rain.
A dark highway.
A bad turn.
Bad luck.
She had taught Maisie to kiss her father’s photograph goodnight.
She had forgiven a universe she believed had taken him randomly.
Now there was someone to blame.
Roman watched her absorb it.
He knew rage.
He knew grief.
The combination could destroy people.
“Clara.”
“Don’t.”
She walked away from them.
Roman let her.
Adrian explained the rest.
Eli had copied records onto an encrypted drive.
He hid the key somewhere in the mansion because he believed the conspiracy reached Roman’s own security team.
Before Adrian could help him retrieve the evidence, Eli died.
Adrian panicked.
He said nothing.
Roman’s expression became dangerous.
“You let his widow believe it was an accident for three years.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of Daniel?”
“Not only Daniel.”
Roman heard the distinction.
“Who else?”
Adrian looked toward the ceiling.
“Someone in your family.”
Silence.
Roman’s father was dead.
His mother lived in Florence.
His younger sister Sofia spent most of the year in Boston.
His uncle Matteo lived in the mansion’s west wing and had helped raise Roman after his father died.
Matteo Duca.
The man Roman called Uncle Matt.
The man who had taught him how to drive.
The man who had sat beside him at his father’s funeral.
“No.”
Adrian’s face remained grim.
“I don’t know which one.”
Roman grabbed his collar.
“You just implied—”
“I said family. I didn’t say Matteo.”
“Then who?”
“I never found out.”
Clara interrupted.
“The key.”
They looked at her.
“If Eli hid a key, it opens something.”
Roman examined it.
Stamped into the metal was a number.
Not a room number.
Not in the mansion.
Clara recognized it.
“Union Station.”
Roman looked at her.
“Chicago?”
“No. The old private rail terminal downtown. Eli used lockers there when he traveled.”
They left through a secondary exit.
Roman took only Clara and Adrian.
Maisie remained with Mrs. Bellini under the protection of Gabriel Shaw, who had arrived and was one of the few people Roman trusted.
Clara hated leaving her.
But if Eli had left evidence, she needed to see it herself.
Locker 317 opened.
Inside sat a plain cardboard box.
Clara removed it.
Roman expected documents.
Instead, they found a child’s stuffed rabbit.
Maisie’s.
Clara stumbled backward.
“No.”
It was the rabbit Eli had bought before Maisie was born.
The one Clara believed had disappeared during their move.
She picked it up.
Something rattled inside.
Adrian found the seam.
Clara opened it.
A flash drive fell into her palm.
Along with a letter.
Her name was written across the envelope.
She recognized Eli’s handwriting instantly.
Clara sat on the floor.
For several seconds she could not open it.
Roman crouched a few feet away.
“You don’t have to read it now.”
“Yes, I do.”
She unfolded the paper.
Clara,
If you are reading this, then I failed to come home.
Her vision blurred.
She continued.
Eli explained what he had found.
He wrote that Roman Duca might be many things, but he was not the man stealing from his companies.
Someone had been using Roman’s identity to build an illegal financial network.
Eli had traced part of it to Daniel Voss.
But Daniel answered to someone else.
Eli called that person “the man upstairs.”
He had not learned the name.
The final paragraph made Clara cover her mouth.
If anything happens to me, do not trust the official story. Take Maisie somewhere safe. And Clara, there is something else you must know: I was not chosen randomly. Someone hired me because they knew I would find the numbers. I think they wanted Roman to discover the betrayal, but only after it was too late.
Roman read the paragraph over her shoulder.
Someone had manipulated Eli too.
The flash drive required a password.
Clara tried Maisie.
Wrong.
Their anniversary.
Wrong.
Roman noticed a sentence in the letter.
Numbers tell the truth when people don’t.
“What was Eli’s favorite number?”
Clara laughed through tears.
“He hated favorite-number questions.”
“Something meaningful.”
She thought.
Then she typed 0307.
March seventh.
The day Eli learned Clara was pregnant.
The drive opened.
Hundreds of files appeared.
Invoices.
Bank transfers.
Security logs.
Audio recordings.
And a folder labeled HOUSE.
Roman opened it.
Photographs appeared.
Daniel meeting with unidentified men.
Daniel entering Roman’s office at night.
Daniel exchanging envelopes with—
Roman stopped.
The photograph showed Uncle Matteo.
Clara looked at him.
Roman said nothing.
He opened the next image.
Matteo again.
The next.
Matteo and Daniel inside the old service shed.
Dated six months earlier.
Adrian whispered, “Roman…”
Roman’s face hardened.
“Keep going.”
The final file was an audio recording.
Eli’s voice.
“If you’re hearing this, I finally know who the man upstairs is.”
Static interrupted.
Then another voice.
Daniel.
“You should have stopped looking.”
Eli responded.
“Roman will find out.”
Daniel laughed.
“No. Roman will die believing his enemies came from outside.”
A third voice entered.
Older.
Calm.
Familiar.
Roman went completely still.
He had heard that voice thousands of times.
At Christmas dinners.
At board meetings.
Beside his hospital bed after his father died.
Matteo.
“You should have taken the money, Mr. Ellis.”
The recording ended.
Clara could not move.
Roman looked away.
His uncle had been involved.
But involvement did not explain everything.
“Copy the drive,” Roman said.
Adrian nodded.
Clara studied him.
“You’re very calm.”
Roman looked at her.
“No, I’m not.”
For the first time, she saw his hand shaking.
They returned to the mansion after dark.
Gabriel met them at the side entrance.
“Problem.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Daniel is gone.”
“Find him.”
“That isn’t the problem.”
Gabriel looked at Clara.
“Maisie is safe with Bellini.”
Clara exhaled.
“Then what is?”
Gabriel handed Roman a tablet.
Security footage.
It showed Daniel leaving through the east gate thirty minutes earlier.
A woman sat in the passenger seat.
Clara recognized her.
Sofia Duca.
Roman’s younger sister.
“Sofia?”
Gabriel nodded.
“She left willingly.”
Roman replayed the footage.
Sofia looked frightened.
But she was not restrained.
Then Clara noticed something.
“Pause.”
Gabriel did.
Sofia turned toward the gate camera.
Her hand rested against the window.
Three fingers extended.
Then one.
Then seven.
Roman stared.
The locker number.
Sofia knew.
“She’s telling us something,” Clara said.
Roman’s phone rang.
Sofia.
He answered immediately.
“Sofia?”
His sister whispered.
“Roman, don’t trust Uncle Matt.”
A man spoke behind her.
Sofia gasped.
Then the call disconnected.
Roman headed for the door.
But before he reached it, every light in the mansion went dark.
A generator started somewhere below them.
Then a voice came through the house intercom.
Uncle Matteo’s voice.
“Roman, come upstairs alone.”
May you like
A door opened above them.
And someone began walking down the stairs.
