Chapter 4 - Renzo Matera’s Missing Forty Million
The woman was not Leora’s mother.
But for one terrible second, she could have been.
Same dark eyes.
Same narrow face.
Same silver streak above the temple.
She was perhaps sixty.
She raised both hands.
“My name is Celeste Vance.”
Leora could barely speak.
“Vance?”
“I’m your aunt.”
Leora had never been told her father had a sister.
Celeste handed her a flash drive.
“Your father sent me.”
“Where is he?”
“Alive.”
The word struck harder than grief.
Alive.
Seventeen years.
Birthdays.
Graduations.
Her mother’s funeral.
Every moment she had needed him.
Alive.
Leora’s voice cracked.
“Why didn’t he come back?”
“Because he thought returning would kill you.”
Renzo asked, “Who was he hiding from?”
Celeste looked at him.
“Your father knew.”
“Salvatore?”
“Yes.”
She explained quickly.
Elias had discovered a laundering network using legitimate businesses to move criminal money through ports.
Conrad Priest had been part of it.
But he was not its leader.
The network had penetrated customs, banking, law enforcement, and private corporations.
Elias intended to testify.
Someone tried to kill him before he could.
Salvatore Matera helped him disappear.
“Why?”
“Because Salvatore wanted out too.”
Renzo absorbed that in silence.
“My father was involved.”
“At first.”
The words hurt him.
Leora saw it.
Celeste continued.
“Then he began documenting everything.”
“Who ran the network?” Leora asked.
Celeste looked toward the bedroom door.
“I don’t know.”
“You came here without knowing?”
“I came because Elias told me Gianna was in danger.”
“Where is she?”
“I arrived too late.”
Leora inserted the flash drive into Gianna’s laptop.
A video appeared.
Elias.
Older.
Alive.
Leora’s hand covered her mouth.
“Lee,” he said from the screen.
Only her father had called her that.
“If you’re seeing this, I failed to keep the past away from you.”
Tears blurred her vision.
Renzo stood silently beside her.
Elias explained the forty million.
It had never belonged to Renzo.
Not originally.
It had been stolen seventeen years earlier from a consortium account connected to Salvatore.
Someone had now returned it through Renzo’s companies specifically to make it appear he controlled the old network.
“They aren’t stealing from Renzo,” Leora whispered.
“They’re framing him as the successor,” Renzo said.
The video continued.
Elias leaned toward the camera.
“The person doing this has access to both families.”
Leora froze.
Both.
Priest.
Matera.
Then Elias said, “Do not assume Conrad is the most dangerous man in the room.”
The video cut off.
A file directory appeared.
Hundreds of documents.
Leora opened one.
Payroll.
Another.
Shipping manifests.
Then an employee roster from Matera Holdings.
One name appeared repeatedly beside unusual transactions.
Vittorio Dane.
Renzo’s chief financial officer.
His closest adviser for twelve years.
Renzo stared at the screen.
“No.”
Leora looked at him.
“You trust him?”
“With everything.”
“That’s exactly why he matters.”
Renzo called his office.
No answer.
His security chief called Vittorio.
No answer.
Then Leora noticed a hidden metadata field.
The forty-million-dollar transfer authorization had originated from Vittorio’s workstation.
Renzo said nothing.
His face became colder.
A message arrived on Leora’s phone.
A photograph.
Gianna sat tied to a chair.
Her mascara streaked down her face.
Behind her stood Tarquin.
But Tarquin was tied up too.
Leora enlarged the photograph.
On the wall behind them was a clock.
And beneath it, painted in fading blue letters:
PIER 17.
Renzo recognized it.
“My father’s old warehouse.”
They left immediately.
At the warehouse, the main doors were unlocked.
Inside, lights flickered above empty loading bays.
“Gianna!” Leora shouted.
A muffled scream answered.
They followed it to an office.
Gianna and Tarquin were inside.
Alive.
Renzo’s men freed them.
Gianna collapsed against Leora.
For perhaps the first time in their lives, Gianna held her without superiority.
“I’m sorry.”
Leora stiffened.
“For what?”
Gianna pulled back.
“For more than you know.”
A gunshot sounded outside.
Renzo turned.
His security chief fell against the doorway.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
Then a familiar voice came from the darkness.
“Renzo.”
Renzo’s expression changed.
Leora looked toward the loading bay.
A man stepped beneath the light.
May you like
Vittorio Dane.
And beside him stood someone Renzo had buried nine years earlier...
