Chapter 4 - The Man at Alessandro’s Right Hand
Carlo heard her.
There was no possibility that he did not.
Emma’s tiny voice carried across a room where forty adults had gone completely silent.
“That’s the man Daddy was scared of.”
Carlo Moretti looked down at my daughter.
For the first time that night, the elegant mask slipped.
Not much.
Just enough.
His nostrils flared.
His eyes sharpened.
And his right hand moved two inches toward the inside of his jacket.
Alessandro saw it.
So did I.
Three guards raised weapons simultaneously.
“Don’t,” Alessandro said.
Carlo stopped.
Then he smiled.
Slowly.
“You’re pointing guns at me because of something said by a three-year-old?”
Alessandro’s stare never moved.
“I’m pointing guns because my security system was breached using your credentials.”
“My credentials can be copied.”
“Then you won’t mind being searched.”
Carlo’s face hardened.
“I do mind.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
The two men stared at each other.
It felt like watching a bridge crack before it collapsed.
Finally, Carlo removed his jacket himself and tossed it onto a chair.
“Search.”
The guards did.
No weapon.
No phone.
No access card.
Nothing.
Carlo opened both hands.
“Satisfied?”
“No,” Alessandro said.
That one word changed everything.
Carlo’s expression went flat.
For years, people in the villa had spoken about them like father and son.
Alessandro’s father had been murdered when Alessandro was nineteen.
Carlo had stepped forward.
He had taught Alessandro the business.
Protected him from rivals.
Negotiated wars.
Buried enemies.
Built alliances.
If Alessandro was the king, Carlo had been the man who built the throne.
And now the king no longer trusted him.
Gianni turned the laptop around.
“The access log recorded Carlo’s badge at 10:42.”
Carlo glanced at it.
“My badge was stolen yesterday.”
Alessandro’s voice sharpened.
“You reported nothing.”
“I thought I had misplaced it.”
“You have never misplaced an access badge in thirty-six years.”
“Apparently there is a first time for everything.”
Vivian stepped closer to Carlo.
“This is madness. Someone is obviously framing him.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“And you.”
Her face froze.
“What about me?”
“Four hundred thousand euros transferred to V.R.”
She laughed nervously.
“Oh, please.”
“The payment was made four days before Marco died.”
“So?”
“Explain it.”
“I don’t have to explain initials that happen to resemble mine.”
“No,” he said. “You have to explain your Swiss account.”
Her lips parted.
That was the moment I knew the account was real.
Alessandro knew too.
Vivian took one step backward.
“I told you about Switzerland.”
“You told me about one account.”
She said nothing.
He turned to Gianni.
“Run the transfer against Romano holdings.”
Vivian snapped.
“You have no right.”
Alessandro looked at her in disbelief.
“No right?”
“We’re engaged, not married.”
“Exactly.”
He removed a ring from his pocket.
I realized with a jolt that he had been carrying her engagement ring.
She had apparently removed it earlier that evening, perhaps after their argument.
Alessandro placed it on the table.
“Consider that problem solved.”
Vivian stared at him.
“You’re ending our engagement?”
“I should have ended it the moment you struck Elena.”
Her eyes flew toward me.
Hatred burned there.
“This is because of her?”
“No.”
Alessandro’s voice became colder.
“This is because I finally stopped ignoring who you are.”
Vivian lunged for the ring.
Carlo caught her wrist.
“Enough.”
Their eyes met.
Too quickly.
Too familiarly.
I saw it.
So did Alessandro.
His expression changed.
“Why did you stop her?”
Carlo released Vivian.
“She’s upset.”
“She is not your concern.”
“She is the daughter of an allied family.”
“Not anymore.”
Don Ricci spoke for the first time in several minutes.
“Alessandro.”
He sounded tired.
“Whatever is happening, you need to separate everyone.”
Alessandro nodded.
“Vivian goes to the north guest suite. Two guards outside the door.”
Her face twisted.
“You’re imprisoning me?”
“For tonight.”
“My father will destroy this alliance.”
“Then he can try.”
“Alessandro—”
“Take her.”
Two guards approached.
Vivian pulled away from them.
“I can walk.”
As she passed me, she stopped.
Her voice dropped low enough that only I could hear.
“You have no idea what you brought into this house.”
I met her stare.
“My daughter brought a toy.”
“No.”
Vivian smiled.
“Your husband brought a death sentence.”
Before I could respond, she walked away.
Carlo was placed in a separate suite.
His guards were men Alessandro selected personally.
Don Ricci was allowed to remain in the library.
Then Alessandro sent almost everyone else away.
By midnight, Villa Moretti no longer felt like a mansion.
It felt like a bunker.
Emma slept in Alessandro’s private sitting room because it was one of the few spaces protected by an independent security system.
I sat on the carpet beside the couch, smoothing her hair.
Alessandro stood at the window.
For ten minutes, neither of us spoke.
Finally, I said, “You knew Noah?”
“No.”
“Then why did your uncle recognize his name?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know.”
He looked at me.
“I know Carlo has lied to me.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
He turned toward the dark gardens.
“Carlo handled internal security when Noah worked for us.”
I felt sick.
“So Noah reported to him.”
“Yes.”
“And when Noah found the leak…”
“He may have reported the leak to the person responsible for it.”
I closed my eyes.
Noah must have been terrified.
Coming home.
Kissing Emma.
Pretending everything was normal.
Knowing the people he worked beside might kill him.
“Why didn’t he tell you?”
Alessandro answered quietly.
“Because men like me do not inspire trust.”
That surprised me.
“You’re admitting that?”
“I know what I am, Elena.”
It was the first time he had used my first name.
“I have done things you would hate me for.”
“Then why are you protecting us?”
He looked at Emma.
“Because children are not part of this world.”
“That sounds like a rule.”
“It is.”
“Rules didn’t save your brother.”
His jaw tightened.
“No.”
“And they didn’t save my husband.”
“No.”
I stood.
“So stop giving me rules. Give me truth.”
Something changed in his expression.
Respect, perhaps.
Or irritation.
Maybe both.
“My brother Marco wanted to take our legitimate companies and separate them from everything else,” Alessandro said. “Shipping. Construction. Hotels. He wanted out.”
“Out of the mafia?”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I told him he was naïve.”
Pain crossed his face.
“Six months later, he died.”
My anger softened.
Only slightly.
“Do you regret it?”
“Every day.”
He looked at Noah’s memory card on the table.
“Marco believed someone inside the family was preventing us from becoming legitimate because chaos made them powerful.”
“Carlo?”
“I refused to believe it.”
Until tonight.
A faint noise came from the couch.
Emma stirred.
Then sat up.
“Mommy?”
I went to her.
“I’m here.”
She rubbed her eyes.
“Where’s Bunny?”
“On the table.”
She reached for him.
I handed over the rabbit.
Emma hugged it and buried her face against its blue wool.
Then she suddenly pulled back.
“What is it?” I asked.
She frowned at the toy.
“His tummy feels funny.”
Alessandro moved closer.
“What do you mean?”
Emma squeezed the rabbit.
“There.”
I took it from her.
The body did feel uneven.
Something beneath the stuffing.
Not the card from the ear.
Something else.
Alessandro called Gianni.
This time Emma gave permission to open a seam because Alessandro promised Rosa would repair it.
Gianni carefully cut three threads along the rabbit’s belly.
He reached inside.
His hand stopped.
“What?” Alessandro asked.
Gianni pulled out a tiny silver key.
Attached to it was a narrow strip of paper.
Three handwritten words.
SANTA LUCIA 214.
I recognized Noah’s handwriting instantly.
“What is Santa Lucia?” I asked.
Alessandro and Gianni exchanged a look.
“A private storage facility near Porta Romana,” Gianni said.
My heart pounded.
“What is 214?”
“Probably a locker.”
Alessandro immediately reached for his phone.
“We go now.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“I’m coming.”
“Absolutely not.”
“My husband hid the key.”
“And someone killed him for what he knew.”
“Which is exactly why I’m coming.”
“Elena—”
“That rabbit belonged to my daughter. Noah left this for us.”
I stepped closer.
“You don’t get to take his last secret away from me.”
For several seconds, Alessandro said nothing.
Then he nodded once.
“Stay beside me.”
We left Emma with Rosa and six guards.
Twenty-five minutes later, Alessandro, Gianni, two security vehicles, and I pulled up outside Santa Lucia Storage.
The facility manager nearly fainted when he saw Alessandro.
Locker 214 was underground.
The silver key fit perfectly.
Alessandro stood beside me.
“You open it.”
My hand shook.
I turned the lock.
The metal door lifted.
Inside was a single black suitcase.
Noah’s suitcase.
I recognized a scratch near the handle from our honeymoon in Florence.
My knees weakened.
I knelt and opened it.
Inside were ledgers.
Photographs.
Three phones.
A sealed envelope with my name.
And one printed photograph lying on top.
Noah stood outside a café.
Beside him was Carlo Moretti.
And between them stood Vivian Romano.
On the back, Noah had written a date.
January 16.
The day before he died.
Underneath were six words.
IF THEY MEET, I AM ALREADY DEAD.
Then Alessandro’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face drained of color.
“What?”
A guard was shouting on the other end.
Alessandro turned toward me.
“Elena.”
I had never heard fear in his voice before.
May you like
Not until then.
“Emma is gone.”
