Chapter 5 - The Man Behind Luca’s Money

The first gunshot hit the ceiling.

Gregory pushed Sofia behind the vault door.

Enzo grabbed the bank manager.

Luca pulled me down.

Isabella did not scream.

She grabbed the metal deposit box and threw it.

It hit the armed man’s wrist.

His gun fell.

Luca moved fast.

One punch.

Then another.

The man hit the floor.

The second attacker ran.

Gregory slammed the vault gate shut behind him.

“Stairs.”

We escaped through a records corridor.

Outside, Luca called the estate.

No answer.

He called again.

Nothing.

Then Michael Dane answered.

“Luca.”

Calm voice.

Too calm.

Luca stopped walking.

“Where is everyone?”

“At the ball.”

“The ball ended ten hours ago.”

Pause.

“I sent the staff home.”

Luca looked at me.

“No, you didn’t.”

Michael was silent.

Luca continued:

“Amelia is standing beside me.”

Another pause.

Then a quiet laugh.

“You always were difficult to manage.”

Luca’s face changed.

“Where is my uncle?”

Michael hung up.

We reached the estate after dark.

Front gates open.

No guards.

No staff.

No lights.

Luca entered through the kitchen.

I knew every hallway.

Every service door.

Every blind corner.

For the first time, being a maid mattered more than carrying a gun.

I led them through the laundry corridor.

We reached Luca’s office.

The safe was open.

Empty.

His computer drives were gone.

On the desk sat one envelope.

LUCA.

Inside:

A resignation letter from Michael.

And a photograph.

Vittorio standing beside Michael.

Taken that afternoon.

Behind them:

A private airfield.

Gregory recognized it.

“Bellini Aviation.”

Luca looked at Enzo.

“Did we own that twenty years ago?”

“No.”

Sofia answered.

“Vittorio built it with stolen company money.”

Luca turned to Isabella.

“Your father documented payments?”

She opened the ledger.

“Yes.”

Then I noticed something on the desk.

A small brass key.

I had seen it before.

Michael wore it around his neck.

“Sir.”

Luca looked at me.

I held it up.

“What does this open?”

He stared.

“Archive room.”

We went downstairs.

Behind the wine cellar was a steel door.

The key worked.

Inside were shelves of files.

Staff files.

Property files.

Bank statements.

Photographs.

One entire wall was labeled:

LUCA.

Twenty years of surveillance.

School.

College.

Restaurants.

Girlfriends.

Business meetings.

Even photographs of Luca visiting his mother’s grave.

He stared at them.

Sofia stood behind him.

Her face collapsed.

“They watched everything.”

Gregory opened another drawer.

AMELIA STONE.

I froze.

“What?”

My file contained my application.

My background check.

Photographs of me leaving my apartment.

And one page marked:

APPROVED — M.D.

Luca looked at me.

“You were placed here.”

“I applied here.”

Gregory found another sheet.

Recommendation source:

EVELYN STONE.

My mother.

Dead four years.

I stared.

“My mother never knew anyone in this family.”

Sofia turned toward me.

“What was her maiden name?”

“Shaw.”

Gregory dropped the file.

I looked at him.

His face had gone white.

“No.”

“What?”

He stared at me.

“Your mother was my daughter.”

Silence.

I laughed once.

“That isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

“My grandfather died before I was born.”

“That is what Evelyn told you.”

I stepped back.

Gregory’s eyes filled.

“Vittorio threatened her after she found one of my copies of the tape.”

I could barely hear him.

“She disappeared with you to keep you away from this family.”

Luca looked at the file.

“Then Michael brought Amelia back.”

Gregory nodded.

“Without knowing who she was.”

A sound came from the hallway.

Footsteps.

Luca switched off the light.

The door opened.

Michael Dane stood there.

Alone.

Hands raised.

Blood on his shirt.

Luca aimed a gun at him.

Michael whispered:

“Vittorio shot me.”

No one moved.

“He has Isabella’s father’s original case file.”

Isabella stared.

“That’s impossible.”

Michael shook his head.

“No.”

He looked at Luca.

“Because Detective Romano did not die five years ago.”

Isabella went completely still.

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Michael swallowed.

“Vittorio has him.”