Chapter 3 - The basement smelled like concrete, gun oil, and river water.Adrian walked first.
Luca followed.
I stayed behind them, gripping a medical flashlight Evelyn had handed me.
Peter had been moved to the private emergency room beneath the building.
But when we opened the door, the bed was empty.
Blood stained the sheets.
The monitors were unplugged.
And the steel security door was wide open.
Luca swore under his breath.
“He couldn't have walked.”
Adrian studied the floor.
“Then somebody carried him.”
I noticed something beneath the bed.
A small brass key.
I picked it up.
Stamped into the metal were three letters.
E.V.M.
Adrian took it from me.
His expression darkened.
“Where did you find it?”
“Under the bed.”
Luca checked the hallway.
“No one passed me.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Are you sure?”
Luca's eyes hardened.
“Yes.”
The silence between them felt dangerous.
Then Evelyn called from the opposite room.
“Adrian.”
We followed her.
She had found a hidden steel cabinet.
It was open.
Inside was a stack of old files.
Hospital records.
Police reports.
Shipping manifests.
One folder contained a photograph.
Eleanor Moretti.
Samuel Vaughn.
Peter Marchand.
And one more man.
Vittorio Moretti.
Adrian's father.
All four standing beside a dock.
The photograph was dated 1999.
On the back someone had written:
THE NIGHT THE BOY DISAPPEARED.
Adrian stared.
“What boy?”
I looked at him.
“You never had a brother?”
“No.”
The room became silent.
Evelyn slowly opened another folder.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Male child.
Mother: Eleanor Victoria Moretti.
Father: Vittorio Moretti.
Date of birth: March 18, 1998.
Adrian stared at the page.
“That date…”
He stopped.
I looked at him.
“What?”
“My mother's medical records.”
He took a step backward.
“She told me she was sick that winter.”
The birth certificate listed one name.
Alexander Moretti.
Adrian's face went white.
“No.”
Luca whispered.
“Boss…”
Adrian snatched the document.
“Why didn't I know about this?”
Evelyn looked at the date.
“Because someone erased him.”
I heard footsteps above us.
Everyone froze.
Then the basement door slammed shut.
Luca drew his weapon.
Adrian pulled me behind him.
A voice echoed through the corridor.
“Adrian.”
Peter.
Or someone using Peter's voice.
“Your mother wasn't protecting you.”
Adrian stared toward the ceiling.
“What do you want?”
A soft laugh answered.
“The truth.”
Then the building alarm stopped.
Every light switched off.
A second later, the emergency lights came on.
Red.
Flashing.
Luca looked toward the security monitor.
Three floors above us, six cameras had gone dark.
Then a seventh.
Then an eighth.
He stared.
“They're cutting the cameras one by one.”
Adrian's expression became lethal.
“Who has access?”
Luca didn't answer.
Adrian turned toward him.
“Luca.”
Luca swallowed.
“Four people.”
“Names.”
Luca hesitated.
Then gave them.
Adrian.
Luca.
The head of building security.
And Peter Marchand.
Adrian stared at the monitor.
“Peter is missing.”
“Yes.”
“So there are three.”
Luca's face changed.
“I just checked.”
He looked at the access log.
“Someone used my code two minutes ago.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Where?”
Luca looked at me.
“Your private archive.”
The three of us ran upstairs.
The archive door stood open.
Inside, dozens of files had been thrown onto the floor.
One file remained untouched.
A black folder.
ALEXANDER MORETTI.
Adrian reached for it.
Before his fingers touched the cover, his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
No one spoke.
Then a recording played.
A woman's voice.
Eleanor.
“Adrian, if you ever discover Alexander exists, do not look for him.”
Adrian's hand tightened.
Eleanor continued.
“He isn't missing.”
A pause.
“He is the reason I had to disappear.”
The recording ended.
I stared at Adrian.
“Your mother was alive when she said that.”
He nodded.
“Which means she knew someone would find this.”
Luca looked at the black folder.
Then whispered:
“Maybe Alexander found us first.”
A soft knock sounded behind us.
We turned.
Nobody was there.
Only a photograph had been slid beneath the door.
I picked it up.
There were two boys in the picture.
One was Adrian at thirteen.
The other was younger.
Same eyes.
Same face.
Alexander.
May you like
On the back were five words.
YOUR BROTHER IS WATCHING.
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