Chapter 2 - The Letter Asked One Question

The library door closed behind Nico.

I stayed outside.

For exactly thirty seconds.

Then Simon Clarke looked at me.

“Julia.”

“Yes?”

“Bring water.”

I understood.

He wanted me inside.

Nico stood beside the fireplace.

The sealed envelope was open.

Alessandra remained near the door.

Her father had not followed us.

Nico read the first line again.

Then looked at Simon.

“My father says to ask you one question.”

Simon’s face changed.

“What question?”

Nico held up the letter.

“Where did I really die?”

Silence.

Alessandra stared.

Nico continued.

“That is exactly what he wrote.”

Simon closed his eyes.

Nico stepped closer.

“Where did my father die?”

Simon answered slowly.

“Not where the death certificate says.”

Alessandra whispered:

“Hospital in Florence.”

“No.”

Nico looked at him.

“Then where?”

“A house outside Belluno.”

“Whose house?”

Simon looked toward the library door.

Alessandra understood first.

“My family’s.”

Nico turned to her.

She shook her head.

“I didn’t know.”

Simon nodded.

“She didn’t.”

Nico looked back at him.

“What happened in that house?”

“Your father lived there for five years.”

“After the first two years of hiding?”

“Yes.”

“And died there?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Simon hesitated.

“Officially?”

Nico’s voice hardened.

“I am done with that word.”

Simon swallowed.

“He fell down a staircase.”

Nico stared.

“That was the story?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe it?”

“No.”

Alessandra covered her mouth.

Nico’s face became still.

“Why not?”

Simon took an old key from his pocket.

Small.

Brass.

Number 8.

“Because the night before he died, your father called me.”

“What did he say?”

“That someone had found him.”

“Who?”

“He did not say.”

“Why?”

“He said the line might be watched.”

Nico looked at the key.

“What is that?”

“Room eight.”

“Where?”

“The Belluno house.”

Nico took it.

Simon continued.

“Your father told me if anything happened, I should bring you there.”

“You waited five years.”

“Yes.”

Nico laughed once.

Quietly.

“Everyone keeps waiting until the dangerous people are dead.”

Simon looked ashamed.

“I thought the evidence was gone.”

“What evidence?”

“The reason your uncle sabotaged the plane.”

Nico frowned.

“The company?”

“No.”

“Money?”

“Partly.”

“Then what?”

Simon looked at Alessandra.

She whispered:

“Dad knows.”

Nico turned.

Her father stood in the doorway.

He had followed us after all.

His name was Vincent Bell.

Sixty-three.

Silver hair.

Black dinner jacket.

No glass in his hand anymore.

He looked at Nico.

“Your father discovered that your uncle had been selling company routes.”

Nico frowned.

“To whom?”

“Competitors.”

“That is not enough to sabotage a plane.”

Vincent nodded.

“There was more.”

He took a breath.

“Some routes were not business routes.”

Silence.

Nico waited.

Vincent continued.

“They were used to move cash.”

“How much?”

“Hundreds of millions over several years.”

“For my uncle?”

“For politicians.”

Nico stared.

“Which politicians?”

“I never knew all of them.”

Simon said:

“Your father did.”

Nico looked at the letter.

Then at Vincent.

“So my father survived a plane sabotage because he knew who was being paid.”

“Yes.”

“And you hid him.”

“Yes.”

“Then turned his survival into leverage for a marriage merger.”

Vincent flinched.

“That was later.”

“Later does not make it cleaner.”

“No.”

Alessandra stepped between them.

“Dad.”

Vincent looked at her.

“Tell him everything.”

He stared at his daughter.

Then lowered his eyes.

“I was not the person who first suggested the merger.”

Nico frowned.

“Who was?”

Vincent looked at the letter in Nico’s hand.

“Your father.”

Silence.

Alessandra stared.

“What?”

Nico’s face changed.

“My father planned our engagement?”

“No.”

Vincent shook his head.

“He planned a merger between the families.”

“When?”

“2017.”

“Why?”

“Protection.”

Nico laughed.

“From my uncle?”

“Yes.”

Vincent continued.

“He believed if the Romano and Bell companies were tied together, your uncle could not dismantle both without exposing himself.”

Alessandra looked at him.

“So the draft contract existed before Nico and I met because his father wrote the first version?”

“Yes.”

Nico stared at the letter.

“Then why did he write that marriage must not become payment for silence?”

Simon answered.

“Because Vincent changed the deal.”

Nico looked at him.

“How?”

Vincent said nothing.

Simon continued.

“The original merger had no marriage clause.”

Alessandra’s face went white.

Nico looked at her father.

“You added it.”

Vincent whispered:

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted permanence.”

“You wanted control.”

“Yes.”

Alessandra stepped back.

Nico looked at the letter again.

There was a second page.

He had not read it yet.

He unfolded it.

His eyes moved across the lines.

Then stopped.

“What?”

Alessandra moved closer.

Nico read aloud.

IF VINCENT HAS GIVEN YOU THIS LETTER, HE HAS FINALLY CHOSEN HIS CONSCIENCE OVER HIS PLAN.

Vincent closed his eyes.

Nico continued.

ROOM EIGHT CONTAINS WHAT I COULD NOT TRUST TO ANY LAWYER, INCLUDING SIMON.

Simon looked surprised.

Nico read the final line.

DO NOT GO ALONE.

Silence.

Then a crash sounded from the ballroom.

Glass.

Shouting.

One of Nico’s guards entered.

“Sir.”

Nico turned.

“Your uncle’s driver was seen at the south gate.”

Vincent went pale.

“He came back?”

The guard nodded.

“Not alone.”

Nico folded the letter.

Then looked at the brass key.

“Good.”

Alessandra stared at him.

“Good?”

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He put the key in his pocket.

“If my uncle wants Room Eight too, then my father left something worth finding.”