Chapter 2 - THE NAME MY WIFE WHISPERED
"Valentina knows what happened to me, Dante. But the man you should be afraid of is your brother."
I nearly dropped the cassette player.
My wife had been dead for eight years.
And the last words I ever expected to hear in her voice were an accusation against my brother, Lorenzo.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
The grandfather clock in my study ticked against the silence.
Then Chiara continued.
"I know how impossible this sounds. I know Lorenzo has been beside you since you were children. But someone has been using his name to move money through the family foundation. Someone wants you to believe he's responsible."
I leaned forward.
Her voice trembled.
"And Valentina knows more than she's telling you."
The recording crackled.
"There's something beneath the piano. Something I couldn't trust anyone else to keep. If I disappear before I explain everything, don't let them convince you that I was confused."
A chair scraped somewhere in the recording.
Chiara stopped speaking.
Then a man's voice said, "You shouldn't have made that tape."
I knew that voice.
My blood turned cold.
Before I could hear anything else, the cassette clicked.
The tape had ended.
I sat staring at the machine.
The voice belonged to Carlo Bellini.
My father's closest friend.
My godfather.
The man who had stood beside me at Chiara's funeral and held my shoulders while I wept.
Carlo had been sitting at our family table for thirty years.
I had trusted him with everything.
Including my wife's funeral arrangements.
I played the final seconds again.
"You shouldn't have made that tape."
There was no mistake.
But Chiara had also said someone was using Lorenzo's name.
My brother had supposedly left the country after Chiara's death. He hadn't spoken to me in nearly eight years.
The last time we'd stood together, he'd accused me of choosing Carlo's advice over my own family.
I had thrown him out.
Now I wondered whether I had thrown out the only man who understood what was happening.
At six the next morning, I summoned Marco, my security chief.
He entered my study carrying a tablet and looking exhausted.
"Tell me about the hidden camera copy," I said.
Marco hesitated.
"The footage wasn't recovered from our main system. Someone stored a duplicate on an old security backup drive."
"Who?"
"That's what concerns me."
He placed the tablet on my desk.
The recovered video showed the hallway outside the ballroom three months earlier.
At 2:14 in the afternoon, Valentina entered carrying a small black handbag.
Two minutes later, Carlo appeared.
He wasn't alone.
A maintenance worker followed him with a toolbox.
I watched Carlo unlock the ballroom doors.
The worker disappeared inside.
Valentina remained in the hallway, speaking quietly into her phone.
Eleven minutes later, the worker emerged.
Something small protruded from his jacket pocket.
A cassette case.
"Find that man," I ordered.
Marco shifted uncomfortably.
"We already identified him. His name was Anthony Russo."
"Was?"
"He died six weeks ago."
I looked up.
"How?"
"His car went off a bridge outside Milwaukee. Police ruled it an accident."
For the first time that morning, I understood that finding the cassette might have placed other people in danger.
Including a four-year-old girl.
"Where are Giulia and Mia?"
"In the staff apartment."
"Keep them there. Nobody enters without my permission."
Marco nodded.
Then he added, "There's something else. Anthony Russo didn't work for our maintenance company."
"Who hired him?"
Marco turned the tablet toward me.
The payment authorization had been approved by my sister.
Valentina Moretti.
I stared at her electronic signature.
Then I stood.
"Bring her to me."
Twenty minutes later, Valentina entered wearing a cream silk blouse and carrying her morning coffee.
She smiled.
"Dante, what is so urgent?"
I placed the cassette on my desk.
Her smile disappeared.
"Where did you find that?"
"Mia found it."
"I know. You told me yesterday."
"No, I didn't."
She froze.
I watched the realization cross her face.
She had made a mistake.
A small one.
But Valentina had always been careful with words.
"Who told you where Mia found it?" I asked.
She set down her coffee.
"You're making something out of nothing."
"Chiara recorded Carlo speaking to her."
Valentina gripped the edge of my desk.
I continued.
"She also mentioned Lorenzo."
At my brother's name, something changed in her expression.
Not fear.
Grief.
"Please," she whispered. "Don't bring Lorenzo into this."
"Why?"
"Because you already destroyed your relationship with him once."
I stepped around the desk.
"Then tell me the truth."
She looked toward the closed door.
For several seconds, she seemed to be deciding whether she could trust me.
Finally, she opened her handbag.
Inside was an old silver pocket watch.
I recognized it instantly.
Our father's watch.
He had given it to Lorenzo when he turned twenty-one.
The back was engraved with three words.
Family before fortune.
"Where did you get that?" I asked.
Valentina's eyes filled.
"Lorenzo left it with me."
"When?"
"Three months ago."
I stared at her.
"You've seen him?"
She nodded.
"He came back because he thought someone had discovered where Chiara hid the recording."
My heart hammered.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because he begged me not to."
"Where is he now?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Valentina."
"I swear."
I picked up the watch.
It was heavier than I remembered.
When I pressed the small release, the back opened.
Inside was a folded strip of paper.
Valentina gasped.
She clearly hadn't known it was there.
I unfolded it.
Six words were written in my brother's handwriting.
ASK CARLO ABOUT THE WHITE ROSE.
Before I could speak, my study door opened.
Marco stood there.
His face was grim.
"Boss, Carlo is downstairs. He says he needs to speak with you."
"About what?"
Marco looked at Valentina.
"He's demanding that you dismiss Giulia immediately."
My sister turned pale.
I moved toward the door.
"Tell him I'll be down."
Marco didn't leave.
"There's more."
"What?"
"He brought a photograph."
My stomach tightened.
"Of whom?"
Marco swallowed.
"Your wife's grave."
He handed me his phone.
The photograph showed Chiara's headstone.
A fresh white rose lay across the marble.
Beside it was a small wooden sign.
Four words had been painted in black.
THE CHILD FOUND IT.
And beneath those words was a second photograph.
Mia.
May you like
Playing outside the staff apartment.
Taken that morning.
