Chapter 2 - The Voice Behind the Door
Dante didn't move.
Neither did Elena.
For three seconds, the room remained completely dark.
Then emergency lights came on, bathing the walls in dim red.
Marco drew his weapon.
"Stay behind me."
Dante ignored him and walked toward the door.
Elena whispered, "Don't."
The voice did not speak again.
Dante pressed his hand against the door.
"Father?"
Silence.
Marco stared at him.
"You think that's Lorenzo?"
"I know his voice."
"People can imitate voices."
Dante looked through the narrow security glass.
Nobody stood in the hallway.
He opened the door.
Empty.
Marco stepped out first.
The corridor stretched in both directions.
No movement.
No sound.
A small speaker had been placed against the baseboard.
Dante picked it up.
Marco exhaled.
"Recording."
Dante turned it over.
A timer display flashed.
04:17.
Elena appeared behind them.
"That's the number on the key."
Dante looked at her.
"Go back inside."
"I've spent three weeks being told where to stand, where to work, where to sleep, and when to keep quiet."
"This isn't about control."
"It always is."
Something in her voice made Dante stop.
He handed the speaker to Marco.
"Trace it."
Then he turned to Elena.
"Tell me everything."
She crossed her arms around herself.
"I don't know everything."
"Tell me what you do know."
Elena looked toward the guest room.
"Not here."
Dante led her to his private study.
Only three people on the estate could enter without permission: Dante, Marco, and Dante's younger sister Sofia.
He locked the door.
Elena stood near the fireplace.
Dante remained several feet away.
"Start with the key."
She drew a slow breath.
"Three weeks ago I was working an engagement dinner downtown. Victor owns the catering company."
Dante nodded.
"I'd been working double shifts because my mother had medical bills."
"What happened?"
"A woman came into the kitchen."
"Guest?"
"I thought so. Expensive dress. No coat. She asked my name."
"And?"
"When I told her, she stared at me like she'd been waiting years to hear it."
Dante listened.
"She gave me an envelope."
"The one Victor accused you of stealing?"
"Probably."
"What was inside?"
"The key. The photograph. And a note."
"What exactly did it say?"
Elena closed her eyes, remembering.
"'If you ever work at Blackthorn House, find 417. Don't trust the man who tells you your mother was a thief.'"
Dante's expression hardened.
"Your mother was accused of theft?"
Elena nodded.
"She worked for a wealthy family when I was little. She never told me the name."
"When did she die?"
"Eleven years ago."
Dante felt a grim connection forming.
"What was her name?"
"Rose Marin."
He knew the name.
Not well.
But he knew it.
Rose Marin had once worked at Blackthorn House.
Dante had been twenty-five when she disappeared from the estate.
His father said she'd stolen financial documents and fled.
Months later, word arrived that Rose had died in a car accident.
Dante stared at Elena.
"Your mother worked here."
She went still.
"You knew her?"
"I remember her."
Elena's eyes flooded.
"What did she do?"
"Administrative work. My father's private office."
"Did she steal from him?"
Dante answered immediately.
"I don't know."
Elena looked disappointed.
He didn't soften the truth.
"My father said she did. I believed him."
"Why?"
"Because he was my father."
The admission tasted bitter.
Dante had spent years building an empire on the promise that he would never become Lorenzo Valeri.
Yet he had accepted Lorenzo's stories without question.
"What happened to the note?" Dante asked.
"Victor took it two days ago."
"Why?"
"He found the photograph in my purse."
"And then?"
"He dragged me into the storage room."
Dante's gaze fell to her wrist.
Elena pulled her sleeve lower.
"He wanted to know who gave it to me."
"Did you tell him?"
"I didn't know."
Dante's voice became quieter.
"He hurt you."
She looked away.
"Yes."
Dante's jaw flexed.
"Why didn't you leave?"
"He took my phone. My wallet. He knew where I lived."
"And today?"
"I heard Victor talking to someone before the event."
"Who?"
"I couldn't see."
"What did they say?"
Elena hesitated.
"He said, 'She has the key. Valeri can never see it.'"
Dante looked toward the desk.
"Then someone told Victor to bring you here."
"Yes."
"As bait?"
"I don't know."
Dante did.
Or at least he suspected.
Someone wanted Elena inside Blackthorn House.
Someone wanted her near Room 417.
Someone wanted Dante involved.
The question was why.
Marco entered after knocking once.
"The speaker was connected to our internal system."
"From where?"
"Security office."
"Stefan?"
"Gone."
Dante nodded.
"What about Victor?"
"We found his car."
"Where?"
"Lower service road."
"Victor?"
"No."
Elena's face tightened.
"Blood?"
Marco looked at Dante before answering.
"Some."
Elena covered her mouth.
Dante stood.
"We're going to Room 417."
Marco stared at him.
"That room doesn't exist."
"It does."
Dante led them toward the oldest section of Blackthorn House.
The west wing had been rebuilt after a fire twelve years earlier. Modern walls covered original stone corridors.
Dante remembered walking there as a boy.
His father kept rooms nobody was allowed to enter.
Room 417 was one of them.
They reached a library lined with antique shelves.
Dante removed three books.
Behind them sat an old brass panel.
Elena's silver key fit perfectly.
A mechanism clicked.
Part of the bookshelf moved inward.
Elena stared.
"You knew this was here?"
"I knew something was."
A narrow staircase descended.
Marco went first.
Dante followed with Elena.
At the bottom stood a steel door.
417 was carved into the center.
Dante inserted the key.
The lock opened.
Inside was not a records room.
It was a preserved office.
Dust covered everything except one desk.
On that desk sat a modern laptop.
Marco whispered, "Someone's been here."
Dante approached.
The laptop was already powered on.
One folder filled the screen.
ROSE MARIN.
Elena stopped breathing.
Dante opened it.
Dozens of scanned documents appeared.
Financial records.
Photographs.
Audio recordings.
Then Elena pointed.
"That's my mother."
A video thumbnail showed Rose Marin sitting in this exact room.
Dante clicked it.
Rose appeared onscreen.
She looked frightened.
"My name is Rose Marin. If this recording is being watched, Lorenzo found out I copied the ledgers."
Elena covered her mouth.
Rose continued.
"The Valeri accounts are being used to hide payments to judges, officers, businessmen, and—"
The video glitched.
Dante leaned closer.
Rose looked directly into the camera.
"If anything happens to me, Dante needs to know one thing."
Dante froze.
"He was never part of this."
Silence filled the room.
Then Rose said something worse.
"Lorenzo has another partner. Someone inside the family."
The screen went black.
Elena whispered, "Who?"
A new file appeared automatically.
LIVE CAMERA.
Marco stepped toward the computer.
"I didn't open that."
Dante clicked.
The feed showed Blackthorn House's main dining room.
Someone was sitting at the head of the table.
Dante's chair.
The man's face was hidden.
Then he slowly lifted his head.
Dante felt the ground disappear beneath him.
Marco whispered, "That's impossible."
The man looked directly into the camera.
Older.
Thinner.
But alive.
Lorenzo Valeri smiled.
Then another figure walked into the frame.
Elena gasped.
It was Victor Hale.
Alive.
Uninjured.
Victor leaned toward the camera and said, "Bring me the girl."
A hand appeared on Lorenzo's shoulder.
A woman's hand.
Dante recognized the ring on her finger.
The person stepped into view.
May you like
Dante stopped breathing.
It was his sister Sofia.
