Chapter 4 - "Elena, I never imagined—"
"That he would be murdered?"
She flinched.
"You gave his name to the people he was afraid of."
"I didn't know Richard was involved."
"But you knew Miguel was frightened."
"Yes."
"And you handed his name over anyway."
She lowered her head.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, my voice became terribly quiet.
"Do you know what Sophie asked me after the funeral?"
Teresa looked up.
"She asked why Daddy didn't come when she called him."
Tears blurred my vision.
"She was two years old."
I pressed a fist against my chest.
"She didn't understand death, so she thought maybe he was hiding."
Teresa began sobbing.
"Please forgive me."
I shook my head.
"I don't know how."
Dante moved toward his mother.
"You should have told me."
Teresa looked at him.
"I know."
"After Miguel died, you should have told me everything."
"I was afraid."
"Of Richard?"
She hesitated.
"Of what my mistake had caused."
Dante closed his eyes.
I watched a muscle move in his jaw.
For the first time, I saw the distance between the powerful mother and son.
Not the polished family that appeared at charity events.
Not the intimidating Moretti dynasty.
Just two people staring at the consequences of silence.
Teresa wiped her cheeks.
"After Miguel's death, I tried to find out what had happened."
I looked at her.
"How?"
"I asked questions."
She glanced at Dante.
"I reviewed the office reports and security records."
"Then why did you hire me?"
Her voice broke.
"Because I was afraid Richard knew Miguel had a family."
The room seemed to narrow around me.
I looked toward the adjoining hallway where Sophie slept.
"You thought he might come after us."
"Yes."
"And you brought us here?"
"I believed the estate was the safest place."
I stared.
"You brought my daughter into a house where Victor Shaw controlled security."
Teresa closed her eyes.
"I didn't know Victor was involved until later."
"How much later?"
She hesitated.
I felt anger rising again.
"How much later?"
"Several months."
I stepped away from her.
"Then you should have sent us somewhere else."
"I know."
"You should have told me."
"I know."
"You should have let me decide whether staying here was worth the risk."
Her face crumpled.
"Yes."
For the first time, Teresa did not try to justify herself.
She simply sat there, crying quietly.
And somehow, that made the truth even harder to bear.
Dante's phone vibrated.
He answered immediately.
"What?"
His expression changed.
"Where?"
He listened.
Then he turned toward the door.
"Keep the north road closed."
I looked at him.
"What happened?"
He ended the call.
"Victor's vehicle was found abandoned near the service gate."
"Was he inside?"
"No."
My stomach tightened.
Dante continued.
"There's a maintenance access tunnel beneath the north greenhouse."
I stared.
"Another tunnel?"
"The estate is more than a century old."
He looked at the screen.
"Victor knew which passages had been sealed and which were still accessible."
A guard entered.
"Sir, we've recovered his phone."
Dante held out his hand.
The guard passed it over.
"Was it locked?"
"No, sir."
Dante examined the screen.
His expression darkened.
"There's a message."
He read silently.
Then looked toward me.
I knew something was wrong.
"What does it say?"
"Elena—"
"Tell me."
He turned the phone around.
The message contained only one sentence.
THE WOMAN HAS THE CARD. GET THE CHILD.
I felt every muscle in my body turn cold.
The message had been sent from Richard Hale's number.
Three minutes earlier.
I looked toward the adjoining room.
"Sophie."
I moved toward the door.
Dante caught my arm.
"Elena, stop."
I pulled away.
"That's my daughter!"
"Listen to me."
His voice was urgent.
"Bruno is with her, and there are guards outside."
I stared at him.
"Victor has been walking through your walls for six nights."
Dante said nothing.
"He knew your cameras."
"He knew your patrols."
"He knew exactly when I would be gone."
My voice rose.
"How do you know he doesn't know a way into that room?"
Dante's expression changed.
We ran.
The distance between the study and Teresa's guest suite was less than fifty yards.
It felt like a mile.
I heard shouting before we reached the door.
Then a tremendous crash.
A guard stumbled backward into the corridor.
Another was shouting into his radio.
The guest suite door stood open.
Inside, a lamp lay broken on the carpet.
The window curtains moved in the wind.
And Sophie's bed was empty.
My heart stopped.
"SOPHIE!"
I rushed into the room.
Her blanket lay on the floor.
Her star-shaped pillow had been crushed beneath an overturned chair.
I couldn't breathe.
Then I heard a growl.
Low.
Violent.
From the small dressing room behind the bedroom.
Dante moved first.
He pushed the door open.
Bruno stood inside, his enormous body positioned between Sophie and a narrow maintenance panel that had been forced outward from the wall.
My daughter was crouched behind the dog.
She was crying.
On the floor near the opening lay a dark sleeve torn from someone's coat.
Bruno's muzzle was wet.
But the man was gone.
I dropped to my knees.
"Sophie!"
She scrambled into my arms.
"Mama!"
I held her so tightly she cried out.
I loosened my grip immediately.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head.
"Did he touch you?"
"No."
"Did he say anything?"
She nodded.
I felt sick.
"What did he say?"
Her voice shook.
"He said you wanted me to come with him."
I closed my eyes.
"He lied, sweetheart."
"I know."
I pulled back.
"How did you know?"
She pointed toward Bruno.
"Because Bruno wouldn't let him."
The dog stood rigid beside the opening.
His eyes followed every sound within the wall.
Dante crouched beside Sophie.
"Did you see the man's face?"
She nodded.
"Was it Victor?"
Her lower lip trembled.
"Yes."
Dante became completely still.
"Are you sure?"
"He told me I was being bad."
A terrible silence filled the room.
Sophie looked at me.
"He said good little girls listen when grown-ups tell them to come."
I felt a wave of nausea.
"But I remembered what you said, Mama."
My eyes filled.
"What did I say?"
"That I should ask for help."
She touched Bruno's head.
"So I told Bruno to help me."
I pulled her into my arms again.
"You're so brave."
She shook her head.
"I was scared."
I kissed her forehead.
"Being brave doesn't mean you aren't scared."
Dante stood.
His face had changed.
The fear I had seen earlier was gone.
In its place was something colder.
He looked at the guards.
"Victor is still on the property."
One guard nodded.
"We believe so."
Dante's voice dropped.
"He has no vehicle, no exit, and no place to hide that we haven't already searched."
I looked toward the open maintenance panel.
"Except the walls."
Dante followed my gaze.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
Then I remembered something Sophie had said.
The man knocks three times.
Every time.
I looked down at her.
"Sweetheart, when Victor came to your window, did he always knock the same way?"
She nodded.
"Three times."
"Did he ever say anything?"
She thought for a moment.
"Sometimes."
My heart began beating faster.
"What did he say?"
She stared at the wall.
"He said he was waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
Sophie hesitated.
Then she repeated a sentence in a voice so soft I almost missed it.
"For Mama to remember."
I felt a chill travel down my spine.
Remember.
Not find.
Not discover.
Remember.
Victor believed I knew something.
Something connected to Miguel.
Something I had forgotten.
I looked toward Dante.
"He wasn't just searching for the memory card."
Dante studied me.
"What do you mean?"
"He kept knocking because he thought I remembered something."
I pressed my hand against my forehead.
Then an image surfaced.
Miguel standing in our tiny Brooklyn kitchen.
Three nights before he died.
He had been nervous.
He kept looking toward the window.
I remembered asking whether he was in trouble.
He shook his head.
Then he said something I had not understood.
"If anyone asks about that delivery, tell them I never opened the case."
At the time, I thought he was talking about bakery supplies.
Now the words returned with terrifying clarity.
I looked at Dante.
"Miguel told me something."
His eyes sharpened.
"What?"
I repeated the sentence.
Dante went still.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"He said he never opened the case?"
I nodded.
Dante looked toward the technician standing in the doorway.
"Pull the original transfer records."
The technician hurried away.
I held Sophie closer.
"What does it mean?"
Dante's expression darkened.
"It means Richard and Victor may believe Miguel saw something inside those cases."
I stared.
"But he said he didn't."
"And they may never have believed him."
I looked toward the hole in the wall.
The torn sleeve lay on the carpet.
Victor had not come to steal jewelry.
He had not come to rob the mansion.
He had returned because something from that night was still missing.
And he believed I knew where it was.
Dante stepped closer.
"Elena, think carefully."
I stared at him.
"Did Miguel ever mention a name?"
"Other than Victor?"
"Anyone."
I closed my eyes.
I remembered the last week of my husband's life.
The strange phone calls.
His restless sleep.
The way he kept checking the lock.
Then I remembered an argument in our kitchen.
Miguel had said he wanted to speak with the owner of the company.
I asked which owner.
He said the Moretti family.
I told him to stay out of other people's business.
He became upset.
Not with me.
With himself.
Then he said, "That woman at the office seemed kind, but I don't think she understood what I was telling her."
Teresa.
My eyes opened.
"He tried to warn your mother."
Dante nodded grimly.
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"And she told Richard."
He looked toward the corridor.
"Yes."
I stared at the wall.
All this time, Miguel had been trying to protect us.
And the people he turned to for help had led the danger straight to our door.
Then the technician returned.
His face was pale.
"Mr. Moretti, we found the missing transfer report."
Dante turned.
"What does it show?"
The man swallowed.
"The two sealed cases weren't simply moved between company properties."
He glanced at me.
"They were transferred to Richard Hale's private storage facility."
Dante's expression hardened.
"And?"
"The files were altered after the transfer."
"What kind of alterations?"
The technician hesitated.
"Ownership records, account authorizations, and signatures."
Dante went very still.
The technician continued.
"Mr. Hale was preparing to take control of several holdings without your knowledge."
I stared at Dante.
For the first time, I saw what this betrayal truly meant.
Richard Hale had not merely stolen money.
He had attempted to use the Moretti family's own companies against Dante.
Miguel had witnessed the first step.
And Victor had silenced him.
Then the technician said one more thing.
"Sir, we found a voice recording attached to the memory card."
My heart began hammering.
"A voice recording?"
He nodded.
"It was damaged, but we recovered the final thirty seconds."
Dante looked at me.
I could barely breathe.
"Play it."
The technician hesitated.
Dante glanced at me once.
I nodded.
"Please."
A burst of static filled the room.
Then came the sound of a vehicle engine.
May you like
Footsteps.
A man's angry voice.
