Chapter 4 - The Dead Man’s VoiceEnzo Moretti had been buried six years earlier beneath a marble angel in St. Raymond’s Cemetery.
That was Elena’s first indication that he might be either the bravest man she had ever met or the most stubborn fool.
“Someone tried to poison you through your sleeve,” Elena said. “Your fiancée vanished, your tailor is dead, and a man missing for twenty-seven years just called us from inside your house.”
They stood inside Luca’s private library while Marco’s men searched every corridor.
Luca poured whiskey.
“So?”
“So normal people postpone the ceremony.”
“I’m not normal people.”
“That is becoming painfully obvious.”
Marco stood near the fireplace.
“We should cancel.”
Luca looked at him.
“You too?”
“We don’t know how deep this goes.”
“Exactly.”
Luca set the whiskey down untouched.
“If we cancel, everybody scatters. Whoever planned this disappears. Tomorrow, every person involved believes the plan is still moving forward.”
Elena understood.
“You want them to come.”
“I want them in one place.”
“You want to use your own wedding as bait.”
Luca’s expression hardened.
“Yes.”
Elena shook her head.
“Men and pride.”
“This isn’t pride.”
“What is it?”
“Survival.”
Before Elena could answer, Luca’s phone rang.
His uncle Salvatore had arrived.
The name changed the atmosphere.
Even Elena knew Salvatore Moretti.
Luca’s father, Enzo, had built much of the family’s power.
Salvatore had been the younger brother who remained beside him through wars, indictments, betrayals, and a dozen attempts on Enzo’s life.
When Enzo died six years earlier, Salvatore had publicly supported Luca’s succession.
Many people believed that support was the only reason the family had avoided civil war.
Salvatore entered wearing a charcoal suit and fury.
He was sixty-seven, silver-haired, heavyset, and carried himself like an old king forced to visit a battlefield.
“Where is she?”
Luca did not need to ask whom he meant.
“Gone.”
Salvatore slammed his cane against the floor.
“I warned you about DeLuca blood.”
“You encouraged the marriage.”
“For business.”
“Apparently Vivienne had other business.”
Salvatore noticed Elena.
“And who is this?”
“The woman who saved Luca’s life,” Marco said.
Salvatore’s expression softened by a fraction.
“Then I owe you gratitude.”
Elena watched his eyes.
Cold.
Calculating.
They settled briefly on the photograph in her hand.
Something flickered.
Recognition.
“You’ve seen this photograph,” Elena said.
Salvatore looked at her.
“No.”
“You looked at it like you had.”
“I looked because you’re holding it like a weapon.”
Elena stepped closer.
“Do you know Daniel Rossi?”
Salvatore’s entire body seemed to become still.
Luca noticed.
“Uncle?”
Salvatore adjusted his cuff.
“I knew many men named Rossi.”
“Electronics technician. Federal subcontractor. Disappeared twenty-seven years ago.”
“No.”
Elena stared at him.
He was lying.
She had spent decades fitting wealthy people for clothing.
They lied with their mouths.
Their shoulders told the truth.
Salvatore’s shoulders had tightened the moment she said Daniel’s name.
Luca saw her expression.
“You believe him?”
“No.”
Salvatore’s eyes turned hard.
“Careful, woman.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The real voice.”
“Elena,” Luca warned.
“No. He knows something.”
Salvatore laughed.
“Your seamstress interrogates family now?”
“She’s alive because she notices details.”
“That does not make her trustworthy.”
Elena held up the photograph.
“Someone hid this inside Luca’s suit.”
Salvatore’s face drained of color.
It happened so quickly most people might have missed it.
Elena did not.
“Where did you get that?”
“Inside the lining.”
Salvatore reached for it.
She pulled back.
His politeness vanished.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Luca.”
Luca did not move.
“Why do you want it?”
Salvatore looked at his nephew.
“I want to inspect it.”
“You just said you didn’t know him.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why do you care?”
Salvatore opened his mouth.
A crash interrupted him.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Marco shoved Elena down.
Luca drew a pistol from the desk.
More shots.
One guard burst through the library door.
“Vehicles at the east gate!”
“How many?” Marco demanded.
“Three. They rammed the security barrier.”
Luca looked at his uncle.
Salvatore was strangely calm.
Too calm.
Elena saw it.
Then she saw something else.
A small red fiber beneath the edge of Salvatore’s cuff.
Her breath caught.
She lunged.
“Don’t move.”
Everyone looked at her.
Salvatore frowned.
“What?”
Elena grabbed his wrist.
He jerked away.
“Get your hands off me!”
She pulled back his sleeve.
A red stitch.
Identical knot.
Marco raised his weapon immediately.
Salvatore froze.
Luca whispered, “Uncle.”
Elena reached for scissors from the emergency sewing kit she had carried downstairs.
Snip.
A metallic disk fell onto the carpet.
Not the same device.
This one was thinner.
Marco picked it up.
“A locator.”
Salvatore stared at it.
“I have never seen that.”
“Someone tagged you too,” Elena said.
Gunfire continued outside.
Luca’s suspicion shifted.
“Who dressed you?”
“My valet.”
“Where is he?”
Salvatore turned pale.
“At home.”
Marco spoke into his radio.
“Get a team to Salvatore’s residence.”
The response came almost instantly.
“Too late.”
Everyone looked at him.
The voice through the radio continued.
“House fire reported twenty minutes ago.”
Salvatore gripped his cane.
“My wife?”
“We don’t know.”
For the first time, Elena saw the old man lose control.
He staggered.
Luca caught him.
Another explosion shook the windows.
Marco’s men returned fire outside.
Salvatore grabbed Luca’s shirt.
“You have to cancel tomorrow.”
Luca stared at him.
“No more lies.”
Salvatore looked toward Elena.
Then the old man said the sentence she had waited nearly three decades to hear.
“I knew Daniel Rossi.”
Elena stopped breathing.
“He worked for us.”
Her face went white.
“What?”
“Not willingly.”
“Explain.”
Salvatore closed his eyes.
“Twenty-seven years ago, your husband discovered something he was never supposed to discover.”
“What?”
Salvatore whispered.
“A surveillance program.”
Luca frowned.
“Whose?”
“Ours.”
The answer seemed to shame him.
“Your father and I were building a private intelligence network. Daniel designed systems for us without knowing who we were. When he realized the truth, he tried to walk away.”
Elena’s voice trembled.
“What did you do?”
“I argued for letting him go.”
“And my father?” Luca asked.
Salvatore looked at him.
“Enzo didn’t.”
Elena slapped him.
Hard.
Nobody stopped her.
“You took my husband.”
Salvatore absorbed the blow.
“Yes.”
“You let me believe he was dead.”
“Yes.”
“You let his child grow up without him.”
Salvatore looked down.
“Yes.”
Elena struck him again.
This time tears were running down her face.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying!”
“I swear.”
She grabbed his lapels.
“WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?”
Salvatore’s voice broke.
“We lost him.”
Elena stared.
“He escaped twelve years ago.”
“Then why didn’t he come home?”
“Because someone else found him first.”
“Who?”
Salvatore looked toward Luca.
“That is the question that can kill every person in this house.”
The gunfire outside stopped.
An unnatural silence followed.
Marco touched his earpiece.
“East gate secure.”
Then another guard spoke through the radio.
“Boss, we captured one alive.”
Luca’s face hardened.
“Bring him.”
Five minutes later, a bleeding attacker was dragged into the library.
His mask was removed.
Elena gasped.
He was the caterer from the security footage.
The man Vivienne had met during the blackout.
But he was not Daniel.
The attacker laughed through bloody teeth.
Luca crouched.
“Where is Vivienne?”
The man smiled.
“Waiting for tomorrow.”
“Who sent you?”
“You already know.”
Luca pressed the gun beneath his chin.
“Try me.”
The attacker looked past Luca.
Straight at Salvatore.
Then he said:
“Your brother sends his regards.”
Salvatore went pale.
Luca froze.
“My father is dead.”
May you like
The man smiled wider.
“Are you sure?”
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