Chapter 2 - The photograph had been taken less than five minutes earlier.Matteo knew because Elena had been wearing the same silver earrings she had worn while standing behind him in the restaurant.
He zoomed in.
A wall.
Gray concrete.
One metal lamp.
A narrow window.
Nothing else.
Except on the far left, barely visible in the shadows, was a red painted number.
Matteo handed the phone to Luca Ferraro, his head of security.
“Find it.”
Luca studied the image.
“Warehouse?”
“Maybe.”
“Industrial?”
“Maybe.”
“Port?”
“Most likely.”
Matteo walked to the kitchen.
Chef Romano was still shaking.
Matteo placed both hands on the counter.
“Tell me what happened before the stranger touched the plate.”
Romano swallowed.
“I already told you.”
“No. You told me what you thought happened.”
Romano looked away.
Matteo leaned closer.
“What did you see?”
Romano hesitated.
“A bottle.”
“What bottle?”
“Orange bitters.”
Matteo's expression changed.
“Where did you get it?”
“I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
Romano pointed toward a locked storage cabinet.
“I found it there this morning.”
Matteo opened the cabinet.
Inside were the ingredients for the evening service.
Tomatoes.
Garlic.
Rosemary.
Olive oil.
And a small glass bottle filled with dark amber liquid.
Matteo picked it up.
There was no label.
Only three scratched letters.
S.M.
Sofia Marino.
Matteo closed his eyes.
Sofia had used bitter orange in one dish.
Only one.
A recipe she had learned from her grandmother.
A recipe she had made for Matteo during the summer they were secretly together.
A dish that should never have existed in Bellavita.
Because Sofia had vanished before Bellavita even opened.
Someone had deliberately brought the recipe back.
Someone wanted Matteo to recognize it.
This had never been about poisoning him.
It had been a message.
Matteo suddenly understood the note.
NOT THE GIRL.
The warning hadn't meant Elena wasn't the target.
It meant Elena wasn't the enemy.
His phone rang.
A voice on the other end spoke through a distorted filter.
“You're looking in the wrong direction.”
“Where is Elena?”
“Safe.”
“Put her on.”
A pause.
Then Elena's voice came through.
“Matteo?”
He felt something tighten in his chest.
“I'm here.”
“Don't trust my mother.”
The line cut.
Matteo stared at the phone.
Luca frowned.
“What did she mean?”
Matteo didn't answer.
A second message arrived.
A location.
The old San Vittore railway depot.
Matteo smiled without humor.
“That place was demolished fifteen years ago.”
Luca looked at him.
“Then why send it?”
“Because someone wants us to go there.”
“And Elena?”
“She's there.”
“You think it's a trap.”
“I know it's a trap.”
Matteo grabbed his coat.
Luca followed.
“You still going?”
Matteo looked back.
“My whole life has been a trap.”
Outside Bellavita, rain hammered the pavement.
Three black vehicles left the alley.
But none of them noticed the unmarked van parked across the street.
Inside sat Sofia.
She watched Matteo's convoy disappear.
Marco sat beside her.
“He took the bait.”
Sofia looked toward the restaurant.
“I knew he would.”
Marco turned to her.
“You're sure?”
Sofia's fingers trembled.
“No.”
“What happens if he finds out?”
Sofia looked at him.
“He will.”
Marco nodded.
“And Elena?”
Sofia closed her eyes.
“That is what I'm afraid of.”
Marco's expression hardened.
“She has to know eventually.”
“She was happier believing you were dead.”
“We don't get to choose what truth does to people.”
Sofia looked down at the black stone ring on Marco's hand.
“Twenty-seven years ago, I thought I was saving her.”
Marco quietly replied.
“You were.”
Sofia looked at him.
“And now?”
Marco looked toward the road.
“Now we're going to find out whether you saved her from the wrong man.”
Twenty minutes later, Matteo entered the abandoned railway depot.
The building was empty.
Dust.
Broken glass.
Rusting tracks.
No Elena.
His men searched every room.
Nothing.
Then Matteo noticed a single wooden chair in the center of the loading floor.
An old cassette recorder sat on it.
Matteo pressed play.
Static.
Then a child's voice.
A little girl.
Crying.
“Daddy?”
Matteo froze.
The recording continued.
“Why are you leaving?”
A man's voice answered.
“I'll come back.”
Matteo's face drained.
Because he knew that voice.
Marco.
Then a woman's voice screamed.
A gunshot followed.
The tape stopped.
Matteo stared at the recorder.
Luca whispered.
“What was that?”
Matteo didn't answer.
A projector suddenly switched on behind them.
A wall lit up.
An old photograph appeared.
Sofia.
Marco.
A baby.
And Matteo.
The four of them stood together outside a hospital.
The date on the corner read:
October 18, 1999.
Matteo stepped closer.
His heart stopped.
The baby was Elena.
But there was something else in the photograph.
A second baby lay in Sofia's arms.
May you like
And underneath the image, someone had typed five words.
ELENA WAS NEVER THE FIRST DAUGHTER.
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