Chapter 3 - The Dead Man's House

Marello did not speak for nearly a minute.

Nico finally broke the silence.

"That is impossible."

The wounded attacker smiled.

"Is it?"

Marello stepped closer.

"I buried my father."

"You buried a body."

"I identified him."

"After the fire?"

Marello's eyes narrowed.

The attacker knew details.

That was what frightened me.

Ten years earlier, Antonio Vitali had supposedly died in a warehouse fire on the river.

I remembered Marello at the funeral.

Twenty-five years old.

Silent.

Angry.

Already becoming harder than the man I had first loved.

Marello looked at Nico.

"Who had access to the body?"

"Your uncle Carlo. Dr. Fabbri. two investigators."

"Fabbri is dead."

"Carlo isn't."

Marello turned back to the attacker.

"Where is my father?"

The man smiled.

"Close enough to watch you marry the wrong woman."

Marello hit him once.

Not wildly.

Precisely.

The attacker fell against the wall.

I grabbed Marello's arm.

"Stop."

He looked at me.

"If you kill him, he can't answer."

His breathing slowed.

He crouched.

"Where is Antonio?"

The man spat blood.

"Falcon House."

Nico stared.

"That estate burned down."

"Not all of it."

Marello stood.

"Take him to the safe room."

I shook my head.

"We are not leaving Leo here."

"We're not."

Within twenty minutes, we were in armored vehicles heading toward Casa Vitali.

Leo sat between Marello and me in the back seat.

He was quiet.

Too quiet.

I held his hand.

"You okay?"

He nodded.

"No."

Marello looked at him.

"That's a better answer."

Leo looked up.

"Do bad people always lie?"

"No," Marello said.

I glanced at him.

He continued.

"Sometimes good people lie too."

Leo frowned.

"Why?"

"Because they're scared."

I knew he was talking about me.

I looked out the window.

Leo leaned against my shoulder.

"Mama lied about Papa."

"Yes."

"Was she scared?"

Marello looked at me.

I answered.

"Every day."

Leo reached across and took Marello's hand.

"Then don't be mad forever."

Marello's face softened.

"I'll try."

Casa Vitali appeared behind iron gates forty minutes later.

The estate had once belonged to Marello's grandfather.

I had lived there for almost a year before I disappeared.

Walking through the front doors felt like stepping into a life preserved under glass.

Same marble floor.

Same dark staircase.

Same enormous portrait of Antonio Vitali above the fireplace.

I stopped beneath it.

Antonio had been handsome in a severe way.

Silver hair.

Dark eyes.

A face built for command.

Marello stood beside me.

"If he's alive..."

"He let you mourn him."

"He let me inherit a war."

Nico approached.

"Bianca called six times."

"Did you answer?"

"No."

"Good."

"She says she's worried."

Marello gave a humorless smile.

"I'm touched."

I looked at him.

"What is the plan?"

"First, we test Leo's DNA."

My body tightened.

"No needles."

Marello looked confused.

"A cheek swab."

"Oh."

Leo raised his hand.

"I can spit."

"You don't need to," I said.

A private physician arrived.

This one, Marello insisted, had been screened by Nico's team.

The test was done in front of us.

Marello provided his sample.

Leo provided his.

Then Nico locked both kits into a hard case and sent them to three separate laboratories under different names.

I watched the case leave.

Marello noticed.

"You're afraid they'll change the result."

"I've spent seven years believing strangers can reach anything."

"That's going to end."

"You cannot promise that."

"I can promise I'll kill anyone who tries."

"Marello."

Leo looked up.

"You said kill."

Marello rubbed his forehead.

"Bad word choice."

Leo considered.

"Very bad."

"Agreed."

Sofia took Leo to see the garden.

When we were alone, Marello poured two glasses of water.

"Tell me everything about the night you were taken."

I sat.

"I left your apartment after dinner."

"You told me you were going to your mother's old place."

"I was."

"Why?"

"I found a note in her desk."

"What note?"

"She wrote: If anything happens to me, Aurora is not what it seems."

Marello's fingers tightened around the glass.

"You never showed me."

"I was going to."

"But?"

"A van hit my car at an intersection."

He went still.

"Three men took me."

"Victor?"

"He came later."

I closed my eyes.

"They kept me in a basement. Victor showed me photographs of you leaving restaurants, meetings, even the gym. Then he showed me ultrasound images."

"Our son."

"Yes."

Marello looked away.

"He told me they could kill you whenever they wanted."

"That was a lie."

"I know that now."

"And Leo?"

"He said if I disappeared, they would let him live."

Marello's voice turned bitter.

"And you believed him."

"I was twenty-four and pregnant."

He flinched.

I continued.

"They made me record a message saying I had lost the baby and wanted nothing to do with you."

"I remember."

"I hated every word."

"You sounded cold."

"They made me repeat it twelve times."

His face changed.

"The recording cut after every sentence."

"Yes."

He stared at the floor.

"I thought you were trying not to cry."

"I was."

Silence filled the room.

He looked at me.

"Did you ever try to contact me?"

"Three times."

My voice broke.

"First when Leo was born. The man I trusted to deliver the letter disappeared. Second when Leo was two. Our apartment was broken into that night. Nothing was stolen except a photograph of him. Third when he was four."

"What happened?"

"I received a picture of you standing over a grave."

Marello's eyes closed.

"The grave."

"His name was on the stone."

"Leonardo Vitali."

"I knew then they were still watching both of us."

He sat beside me.

"His full name?"

"Leonardo Rafael Moreno."

"Rafael?"

"My father."

Marello nodded slowly.

"He would have liked that."

I looked at him.

"You remember my father?"

"He threatened to break my legs the first time I took you out."

"He liked you."

"He had an unusual way of showing it."

A small laugh escaped me.

Then Nico entered.

"We found something."

He placed an old ledger on the table.

"Where?"

"In the estate archive. Aurora Foundation records."

Marello opened it.

Most pages were financial entries.

Donations.

Property transfers.

Trust allocations.

Then one page had been marked with a red tab.

Nico pointed.

"Your father's signature."

Marello stared.

The date was one year after Antonio's supposed death.

I felt cold.

"Someone could have forged it."

Nico nodded.

"We thought that. So we compared pressure patterns from old originals."

"And?"

"It is highly likely genuine."

Marello closed the ledger.

"Falcon House."

Nico nodded.

"I sent drones."

"Anything?"

"Heat signatures."

"How many?"

"At least six people inside the underground structure."

Marello stood.

"We go tonight."

I stood too.

"No."

He looked at me.

"You don't get to tell me no."

"Then I am coming."

"Absolutely not."

"I can identify Victor."

"So can I."

"You have a photograph."

"I have eyes."

"And I have seven years of reasons."

Marello shook his head.

"Leo needs you."

"Leo needs the truth."

"He needs his mother alive."

"And he needs his father alive too."

Marello stared at me.

The argument stopped because neither of us could deny the other.

Nico looked uncomfortable.

"I hate to interrupt family healing, but Bianca is at the gate."

Marello's expression hardened.

"What?"

"She came in person."

I felt my pulse quicken.

"Does she know I'm here?"

"No."

Marello looked at me.

"Stay upstairs."

"No."

"Elena."

"If Bianca is part of this, I want to see her face when she realizes I'm alive."

His mouth curved slightly.

"There you are."

"What?"

"The woman who once threw a wine bottle at a man for insulting me."

"He deserved it."

"He required eight stitches."

"He should have ducked."

Marello almost smiled.

Then the front doors opened below.

Bianca's voice floated up through the hall.

"Marello?"

He looked toward the staircase.

"Let's see what my bride came to tell me."

We walked down together.

Bianca stood beneath Antonio's portrait in a white silk coat.

Beautiful.

Polished.

Perfectly calm.

Until she saw me.

Her face lost all color.

"Elena."

I stopped on the final stair.

"You remember me."

Bianca stared.

Marello watched her carefully.

"Interesting."

She recovered fast.

"Marello, I can explain."

"Can you?"

Bianca looked at him.

"She's dangerous."

I laughed.

"That's your opening?"

"She disappeared seven years ago and suddenly returns three days before our wedding."

Marello stepped closer.

"With my son."

Bianca froze.

"What?"

"Leo is alive."

For one second, I saw something in her eyes that was worse than surprise.

Recognition.

Marello saw it too.

"You knew."

"No."

"You didn't ask who Leo was."

Bianca's mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Marello's voice dropped.

"How long have you known my son was alive?"

Bianca backed away.

"I swear—"

A gunshot shattered the front window.

Marello pushed me down.

Nico dragged Bianca behind a column.

Security flooded the hall.

Another bullet struck Antonio's portrait.

The canvas tore across his painted face.

Then something small bounced across the marble floor.

A metal capsule.

Marello stared at it.

Nico grabbed it with a cloth.

Inside was a rolled strip of paper.

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One sentence.

COME TO FALCON HOUSE IF YOU WANT YOUR FATHER BACK.