Chapter 3 - The Mother Who Had a Grave

We ran inside.

Gregory locked the door.

Enzo pulled the curtains that did not exist from a hidden compartment above the windows.

Heavy blackout fabric dropped into place.

I stared.

“You were prepared for this.”

Enzo looked at me.

“For twenty years.”

Outside, a car stopped.

No doors opened.

No footsteps.

That was worse.

Luca stood beside Sofia.

He had not touched her yet.

She had not touched him.

Twenty years stood between them like another person.

Sofia whispered:

“You have your father’s eyes.”

Luca looked at her.

“My father is standing six feet away.”

A tiny smile appeared through her tears.

“You had them first.”

Luca looked down.

Then back at her.

“Why did everyone tell me you were dead?”

Sofia sat.

“Because I was supposed to testify against Vittorio.”

“For what?”

Enzo answered.

“Murder.

Extortion.

Judges.

Police.

Half the Bellini organization.”

Luca stared.

“My uncle built his reputation cleaning up the family.”

Sofia shook her head.

“He built it by killing everyone who knew what he had done.”

Isabella stood near the door.

Luca looked at her.

“And your father?”

She hesitated.

“My father investigated him.”

“Then why was he in the car with my parents?”

Sofia looked toward Isabella.

“Because Detective Romano saved my life.”

Isabella’s eyes filled.

Luca stared.

Gregory opened the old notebook.

“Romano discovered the hit order against Sofia.”

Enzo continued.

“He helped fake her death.”

Luca looked at Isabella.

“So your father was not helping Vittorio.”

“No.”

“Then what family reputation were you afraid to destroy?”

Isabella looked down.

“My father took money.”

Silence.

“He took bribes from Vittorio for years.”

Luca’s expression changed.

“But?”

“But when he learned Vittorio planned to kill your mother, he turned.”

Gregory nodded.

“He started building a case.”

Sofia added:

“And Vittorio discovered it.”

Outside.

A knock.

Three times.

Slow.

No one moved.

Vittorio’s voice came through the door.

“Luca.”

Luca stared at the wood.

Vittorio continued.

“You should hear my side before they fill your head with ghosts.”

Enzo reached for a handgun in a kitchen drawer.

Luca stopped him.

“No.”

Enzo looked at him.

Luca walked to the door.

Sofia grabbed his wrist.

The first time she touched him.

He froze.

“Please.”

Luca looked at her hand.

Then at her face.

Something inside him softened.

Only for a second.

He stepped away from the door.

“Why is he here?”

Gregory looked at Isabella.

She understood immediately.

“The notebook page.”

She pulled it from her purse.

“It had the address.”

Gregory took it.

Then frowned.

“This is not my page.”

Everyone looked at him.

“What?”

“The handwriting is copied.”

Isabella stared.

“I found it beside the television.”

Gregory turned it over.

On the back was a small black mark.

A phoenix.

Luca’s face hardened.

“My family symbol.”

Enzo shook his head.

“No.”

He walked closer.

“That version belongs to Vittorio.”

The wings were reversed.

Gregory whispered:

“He wanted us to come here.”

Luca looked around.

“Why?”

A smell reached me.

Sharp.

Chemical.

I looked toward the hallway.

“Do you smell that?”

Enzo’s face changed.

“Gas.”

Gregory ran toward the kitchen.

The stove knobs were off.

The smell grew stronger.

Sofia stood.

“Basement.”

Enzo opened the cellar door.

Gas hissed below.

A line had been cut.

Gregory shouted:

“Out the back!”

We moved.

Luca grabbed Sofia’s hand.

Enzo took Isabella’s arm.

I followed Gregory.

We reached the yard.

Vittorio’s car was gone.

Then the farmhouse exploded.

The windows blew outward.

Heat hit my back.

Sofia screamed.

Luca pulled her behind a stone wall.

Flames climbed through the roof.

Enzo stared at the house.

Twenty years of hiding.

Gone in seconds.

Gregory looked at the road.

“He didn’t come here to talk.”

Luca’s face was completely calm.

Too calm.

“No.”

He watched the fire.

“He came to erase the witnesses again.”

Sofia touched his shoulder.

Luca turned.

She held something in her hand.

A small metal key.

Blackened from age.

“I kept one thing away from the house.”

Luca stared at it.

“What does it open?”

Sofia looked at Isabella.

Then at Gregory.

“A deposit box in New York.”

Luca frowned.

“What’s inside?”

Sofia answered:

“The original evidence against Vittorio.”

Isabella went pale.

Sofia noticed.

“You know the box.”

Isabella whispered:

“Yes.”

Luca looked at her.

“How?”

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She closed her eyes.

“Because my father left me the second key.”