Chapter 5 - A Traitor at the Table
Lorenzo did not move.
The woman stared at him.
His mother.
Elena Santangelo.
Alive after twenty-six years.
Michael Russo stood beside her.
The dead gathered easily in our families.
“Explain,” Lorenzo said.
His voice was quieter than anger.
Elena took one step forward.
“I was forced to disappear.”
“By who?”
“Your father’s enemies.”
“My father told me you died.”
“He believed I had.”
Lorenzo laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You let a seven-year-old boy bury an empty coffin.”
Tears entered her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To keep you alive.”
“Everyone uses that sentence.”
He looked at me.
I knew why.
I had said almost the same thing about people hiding the truth from me.
Michael spoke.
“We didn’t have a choice.”
Lorenzo turned on him.
“You especially should stop speaking.”
Michael raised both hands.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
Lorenzo looked back at his mother.
“Where is Nonna?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
Elena hesitated.
Lorenzo’s expression changed.
“Where?”
“She left willingly.”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because someone inside your organization is hunting everyone connected to the old ledger.”
I stepped forward.
“Who?”
Michael answered.
“Adrian Vale.”
I frowned.
“Who is that?”
Lorenzo knew.
His face became unreadable.
“My chief financial officer.”
Of course.
Someone close.
Someone trusted.
Adrian Vale had attended our wedding.
He had toasted our future.
He had smiled while saying Lorenzo had finally found a woman brave enough to tolerate him.
“What does he want?” I asked.
“The ledger,” Michael said.
“Why?”
“Because his father created the network.”
“Victor Hale?”
Michael shook his head.
“Victor’s brother.”
I remembered Victor’s surname.
Hale.
“Then why Vale?”
“Changed family name.”
Michael sat.
“Adrian spent twenty years building himself inside the Santangelo empire. Quietly. Carefully.”
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed.
“My father knew?”
“Eventually.”
“And my father died.”
“Yes.”
“Antonio knew?”
“Yes.”
“And Antonio died.”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did Adrian kill them?”
Michael’s pause answered.
“Not personally.”
“But he ordered it?”
“We believe so.”
“Believe?”
“He never leaves direct proof.”
I thought of Victor’s body.
“The message pinned to Victor?”
“Adrian.”
“The villa attack?”
“Adrian.”
“The shooter?”
Michael looked at Lorenzo’s bandaged side.
“Yes.”
My anger turned cold.
“Why me?”
“Because your father hid the complete account list.”
“I don’t know where.”
“Adrian thinks you do.”
“I don’t.”
Michael looked toward the brass token.
“You have more than you realize.”
I remembered my father’s puzzle box.
The token.
“What else?”
“The token opens the warehouse.”
“We already found the ledger.”
“That ledger is incomplete.”
Lorenzo cursed softly.
“Where is the rest?”
“Your wedding ring.”
I looked down.
Everyone stared at my hand.
“This?”
Michael nodded.
“Your father designed the hiding system years ago. Victor later helped make sure the ring reached you.”
My heart pounded.
“The ring came from Lorenzo.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“I bought it from Victor’s recommended jeweler.”
Michael said, “Exactly.”
Lorenzo removed the ring gently from my finger.
He examined it.
Nothing unusual.
Michael took a small pin and pressed beneath the setting.
A tiny compartment clicked open.
Inside was a microchip.
I stared.
My father had hidden evidence inside the ring of a marriage he could never have predicted.
Or could he?
“How did he know I would get this ring?” I asked.
“He didn’t,” Michael said. “Victor moved the chip after Lorenzo requested a ring.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor realized Lorenzo was marrying Antonio’s daughter.”
Everything connected through coincidence and manipulation.
Lorenzo held the chip.
“We copy it.”
“Not on a normal system,” Michael said. “Adrian monitors your network.”
Lorenzo’s phone rang.
Adrian.
We all stared at the screen.
Lorenzo answered.
“Where are you?”
Adrian sounded concerned.
“We have a problem. Someone accessed the old warehouse.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
Then at Michael.
“Come to my house.”
“When?”
“Now.”
Lorenzo ended the call.
“You’re inviting him here?” I asked.
“To dinner.”
Elena stared at her son.
“That’s dangerous.”
“So is shooting my wife.”
The word landed.
My wife.
Not “Sofia.”
Not “our arrangement.”
My wife.
I pretended not to notice.
We staged the house.
Michael disappeared upstairs.
Elena hid in a secure room.
My mother and Marco left through the rear entrance.
At seven thirty, Adrian arrived.
He was forty-one, clean-cut, pleasant-looking.
Exactly the kind of man nobody feared.
He brought wine.
“For the newlyweds.”
I nearly admired the nerve.
We sat.
Adrian looked at Lorenzo’s injury.
“What happened?”
“Accident.”
“In Italy?”
“Yes.”
“With a bullet?”
Silence.
Adrian smiled faintly.
“I heard things.”
“Apparently.”
Dinner continued.
I watched him.
Perfect manners.
Steady hands.
No obvious fear.
Then he looked at my ring.
Or where it should have been.
“You’re not wearing your wedding ring.”
I glanced at Lorenzo.
“Getting resized.”
Adrian smiled.
“That quickly?”
“It was loose.”
“Strange. Victor usually had excellent jewelers.”
There.
Too much knowledge.
Lorenzo leaned back.
“You recommended Victor’s jeweler?”
Adrian’s smile barely changed.
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps.”
“Why?”
“I thought he was reliable.”
“Victor is dead.”
Adrian lowered his eyes.
“Tragic.”
“Someone murdered him.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“From who?”
Adrian looked up.
The room changed.
Quietly.
Completely.
“I think we both know this dinner isn’t about wine.”
Lorenzo said nothing.
Adrian set down his glass.
“Sofia, did your father ever tell you what he was protecting?”
“No.”
“Pity.”
I looked at him.
“You killed him.”
Adrian’s expression remained calm.
“I never met your father.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He smiled.
“No. It wasn’t.”
Lorenzo’s hand moved beneath the table.
Adrian noticed.
“Before you do anything foolish, you should know three men are watching this house.”
“Only three?” Lorenzo asked.
Adrian laughed.
“That confidence is why I liked you.”
“Liked?”
“Past tense.”
Lorenzo’s gaze hardened.
Adrian stood.
“I want the chip.”
“What chip?” I asked.
“You’re not good at lying, Mrs. Santangelo.”
“Neither are you.”
“I’m excellent at it.”
“No. You simply spent years surrounded by people who trusted you.”
His smile disappeared.
Good.
I had hurt him.
Adrian reached inside his jacket.
Lorenzo rose.
Then Michael stepped from the hallway.
Adrian froze.
For the first time, real fear crossed his face.
“You.”
Michael smiled.
“Dead men are inconvenient.”
Adrian backed toward the door.
Lorenzo’s guards entered behind him.
It seemed over.
Then Adrian started laughing.
“What?”
Lorenzo’s voice sharpened.
Adrian looked directly at me.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“The chip doesn’t expose me.”
“Then what does it expose?”
Adrian’s eyes moved to Lorenzo.
“Her father didn’t hide that evidence from me.”
Silence.
“He hid it from the Santangelos.”
Lorenzo went still.
Adrian smiled.
“Because the final order to kill Antonio Bellini came from inside your own family.”
Then every light in the house died.
May you like
A single gunshot sounded upstairs.
And Lorenzo’s grandmother screamed.
