Chapter 4 - Elena DeLuca Had Planned to Vanish With Lorenzo

Marco stared at the photograph.

His mother.

Alive.

Two days before her death.

Standing beside the two men he now trusted least.

He looked at Lorenzo.

“She planned to leave?”

“Yes.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

“And me?”

Lorenzo closed his eyes.

“That was the argument.”

Marco’s face hardened.

“What argument?”

“Elena wanted to take you.”

“Of course she did.”

“I told her it was too dangerous.”

Marco laughed bitterly.

“So you left me.”

“No.”

“That sounds exactly like leaving me.”

Lorenzo did not defend himself.

Vivienne stepped closer to the photograph.

“My father was there.”

“Yes.”

“What did he promise?”

Joseph answered.

“A safe route out.”

Marco looked at him.

“And Adrian?”

“He promised to let Elena go if Lorenzo gave up the evidence.”

Marco stared.

“Did he?”

Lorenzo shook his head.

“I gave him copies.”

“Not originals.”

“No.”

“Where were the originals?”

Lorenzo looked at the old jacket.

Marco understood.

“In the lining.”

“One set.”

Marco looked at the jacket.

The same one Vivienne told me to throw away.

Lorenzo continued.

“Elena hid another set.”

“Where?”

“We never found it.”

Vivienne whispered:

“My father might know.”

Marco turned to her.

She pulled out her phone.

Three missed calls.

All from Robert.

Marco stared.

“He knows we’re here.”

“Yes.”

“Call him.”

Vivienne did.

Robert answered immediately.

“Where are you?”

Vivienne looked at Marco.

“The tailor shop.”

Silence.

Robert whispered:

“Leave.”

“No.”

“Vivienne.”

“No.”

Marco stepped closer to the phone.

“Why was my mother here two days before she died?”

Robert said nothing.

Marco repeated:

“Why?”

Finally:

“She wanted out.”

“With my father.”

“Yes.”

“With me.”

Silence.

“Yes.”

Marco’s jaw tightened.

“What happened after the meeting?”

Robert’s breathing changed.

“She left.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Did Adrian follow her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Did you know her brake line was cut?”

Silence.

Vivienne closed her eyes.

Marco whispered:

“You knew.”

Robert answered:

“Not before.”

“After?”

“Yes.”

“Who told you?”

Robert said:

“Adrian.”

Nobody moved.

Marco looked at Lorenzo.

Lorenzo’s face went white.

Robert continued.

“He called me after the crash.”

“What did he say?”

“He said Elena had made a mistake.”

Marco’s eyes hardened.

“And?”

“He said there were consequences for mistakes.”

Vivienne started crying.

“Dad.”

Robert whispered:

“I was afraid.”

Marco took the phone.

“You stayed silent for twelve years.”

“Yes.”

“You let me call him Uncle.”

“Yes.”

“You helped build tonight’s merger.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Robert’s answer was quiet.

“Because Adrian has records that can put me in prison.”

Marco almost smiled.

“Good.”

Robert went silent.

Marco continued.

“Maybe prison is where the truth finally catches up.”

Vivienne stared at him.

Robert whispered:

“There is something you need to know before you confront Adrian.”

“What?”

“He is not at the ballroom.”

Marco frowned.

“Where is he?”

“At the DeLuca archive.”

Lorenzo looked alarmed.

“What archive?”

Robert answered:

“The old warehouse on Pier Nine.”

Joseph whispered:

“That is where the original company records were stored.”

Marco looked at the clock.

11:42 p.m.

“What is Adrian doing there?”

Robert replied:

“Destroying the documents that prove your mother’s shares never transferred to him.”

Silence.

Marco stared at Lorenzo.

“My mother had shares?”

Lorenzo nodded slowly.

“Forty percent.”

Marco looked shocked.

“She owned forty percent of DeLuca Holdings?”

“Yes.”

“What happened when she died?”

“They should have passed to you.”

Marco’s face changed.

“They didn’t.”

“No.”

“Who took them?”

Lorenzo answered:

“Adrian.”

Vivienne whispered:

“The merger.”

Marco understood.

“If the real ownership records survive, Adrian doesn’t control enough shares to force the merger.”

“Yes.”

Robert spoke through the phone.

“And if he burns them before midnight, his forged records become much harder to challenge.”

Marco grabbed his coat.

Lorenzo did too.

Vivienne stopped him.

“Marco.”

He looked at her.

“I’m coming.”

“No.”

She flinched.

“This is dangerous.”

“So was Milan.”

He stared.

She continued.

“I spent eight months being afraid of what truth would cost me.”

Her voice broke.

“I’m not doing that again.”

Marco studied her.

Then handed her the old jacket.

“Carry this.”

She looked at it.

“Why?”

“Because apparently my family hides everything important in clothing.”

Joseph almost laughed.

Almost.

Then Lorenzo opened a cabinet beneath the cutting table.

Inside was another dinner jacket.

The new one.

The one he had ordered for Marco.

Lorenzo held it out.

Marco stared.

“Now?”

Lorenzo nodded.

“If you are going to confront the man who tailored your life…”

Marco took the jacket.

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Lorenzo’s eyes filled.

“…wear something you chose.”