Chapter 4 - The Night Elena Died

Luca’s mother had died when he was eleven.

Officially, an aneurysm.

Quick.

Natural.

Unpreventable.

Vittorio called that version what it had always been.

“A convenience.”

Luca did not sit.

“Start at the beginning.”

They returned to the study because the chapel room was too small for anger.

Belini sat under guard.

Vittorio stood near the fireplace.

Emma held Elena’s envelope.

Marco remained beside the computer.

Vittorio spoke.

Twenty-eight years earlier, the Moretti and Bellini families had shared shipping routes.

Not friendship.

Business.

Then customs investigations began.

Money disappeared.

Witnesses changed statements.

Two judges suddenly paid cash for houses.

Vittorio suspected Carlo Bellini, Belini’s father.

But suspicion was not proof.

“Elena found the proof,” Vittorio said.

Emma stared at him.

“How?”

“She cleaned an accounting office at night.”

Emma almost laughed.

“That part was true?”

“Yes.”

Vittorio’s expression softened.

“Your mother understood something wealthy men often forget. People stop seeing the person who empties the trash.”

Elena copied records.

She photographed ledgers.

She followed payments.

She noticed the same shell companies appearing beside Moretti contracts and Bellini accounts.

Then Luca’s mother discovered the investigation.

“She helped Elena,” Vittorio said.

Luca’s eyes became dangerous.

“And she died.”

“Yes.”

“You knew?”

“Not then.”

“Convenient.”

Vittorio accepted the insult.

“Three years later, Elena proved it.”

She had kept a medication log from the week Luca’s mother died.

The dose recorded by the private physician did not match the vial delivered to the house.

The physician had later received money from a Bellini company.

Luca’s breathing changed.

“Name.”

“He is dead.”

“Name.”

Vittorio gave it.

Marco wrote it down anyway.

Emma looked at the letter in her hands.

“What happened to my mother?”

Vittorio turned toward her.

“Elena wanted out after she had you.”

Emma’s face tightened.

“She never told me any of this.”

“She wanted you to have a normal life.”

“So she left?”

“She tried.”

But Carlo Bellini knew someone had copied the records.

He did not know who.

Vittorio moved Elena twice.

Then three times.

Eventually she returned to New York under her real name because constant hiding was destroying Emma’s childhood.

Seven months later, Elena’s car was struck at an intersection.

The police report called it an accident.

Vittorio found the driver two days later.

“He had been paid.”

Emma’s eyes filled.

“You knew my mother was murdered and you did nothing?”

“I did something.”

“You disappeared.”

“Yes.”

She stared.

“That was your answer?”

“My answer was to make Carlo believe the last person who could expose him was gone.”

Luca’s voice turned cold.

“And you let me bury a stranger to accomplish it.”

Vittorio looked at his son.

“I chose the operation over you.”

No excuse.

No softening.

Luca’s jaw flexed.

“That honesty does not make it noble.”

“I know.”

Marco interrupted.

“Boss.”

He had opened another file from Elena’s envelope.

A photograph.

Elena stood beside Vittorio near a warehouse.

In the background was a younger Carlo Bellini.

Beside him stood another man.

Emma leaned closer.

“I know him.”

Luca looked at her.

“Who?”

“The man from the hallway recording.”

Marco compared the images.

Same height.

Same jaw.

Older now.

Vittorio’s expression hardened.

“Matteo Bellori.”

Belini looked away.

Luca noticed.

“The attorney?”

Vittorio nodded.

“Carlo’s cousin. He handled the shell companies.”

Marco enlarged the old photograph.

On Bellori’s hand was no ring.

Vittorio removed his own gold ring and placed it on the desk.

“Mine has a cut beneath the third star.”

Marco zoomed the hallway image.

The ring worn by the gray-suited man had no cut.

A replica.

Luca stared at Belini.

“So the man in your room was Bellori.”

She said nothing.

“Where is he?”

Still nothing.

Vittorio answered for her.

“If Bellori knows I came back, he will run.”

Marco checked his phone.

“Too late.”

Luca turned.

“What?”

“His townhouse is empty.”

Emma felt the danger shift.

The enemy was no longer hidden in old paperwork.

May you like

[COMPLETED] “GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY DRESS! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT AN OLD SEAM...

[COMPLETED] At the Mafia Boss's Engagement Party, I Served His Hungry So...

[COMPLETED] The Mafia Boss’s Fiancée Tried to Dismiss His Father’s Loyal...

He was moving.

And somewhere in New York, a man who had helped bury Elena Russo’s truth now knew the dead man he feared had come home.