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CHAPTER 2: THE SECRET BENEATH THE ESTATE The three knocks echoed through the underground passage. Then... Silence. No one moved. Even the guards seemed afraid to breathe. The sound hadn't come from the room behind us. It had come from somewhere deeper. Far below the foundations of the Valenti estate. Rinaldi slowly turned toward the darkness. "There shouldn't be anything beyond this tunnel." "There isn't," one guard whispered. "There wasn't." I looked at the fresh footprints disappearing into the shadows. Marco had known exactly where he was going. Which meant someone else knew these forgotten passages even better. I stood. "Take Elena upstairs." She was still unconscious, Sophie's tiny hand wrapped tightly around her mother's fingers. "No!" Sophie clung to Elena. "I don't want to leave Mommy." I crouched beside her. "You won't." "I promise." "You'll stay with her every second." She searched my face. Children always knew when adults lied. Finally... She nodded. "Okay." Two medics had just arrived with a stretcher. They carefully lifted Elena. As they carried her away, her fingers suddenly tightened around my sleeve. Her eyes fluttered open for only a second. "They're watching..." Then she slipped back into unconsciousness. Watching. Not waiting. Watching. I turned to my security team. "Seal every entrance to these tunnels." "What about the police?" Rinaldi asked. "Not yet." Several heads snapped toward me. Normally, any kidnapping would bring law enforcement immediately. But nothing about this was normal. Someone had erased Elena's disappearance from every report. Someone had installed a new steel door beneath my own mansion. Someone inside my household had been helping them. If the conspiracy reached this far... I had no idea how far above the estate it extended. Calling the police too early might only warn whoever was behind it. "We handle this first." No one argued. Except one voice. "You shouldn't." Everyone turned. The unconscious guard Marco had struck was beginning to wake. Blood trickled from the back of his head. He looked terrified. "Sir..." "What is it?" He swallowed. "I've seen that tunnel." "When?" "Last year." The corridor fell silent. "You never reported it?" "I... I signed a confidentiality agreement." My expression hardened. "With whom?" He hesitated. Then quietly answered. "Miss Celeste." Twenty minutes later... The mansion no longer felt like home. Every hallway seemed to hide another lie. The staff stood gathered in the grand hall. No phones. No conversations. No one allowed to leave. Celeste descended the staircase wearing a cream-colored silk dress. Perfect hair. Perfect posture. Perfect calm. As if she had simply awakened to another ordinary morning. She glanced toward the frightened employees. Then smiled gently at me. "I heard there was some excitement downstairs." Her voice never shook. Not once. I studied her carefully. Nothing. No panic. No surprise. No curiosity about Elena. Only calculation. "You knew Elena was alive." A tiny pause. "So she was found." Not relief. Confirmation. Sophie's frightened face flashed through my mind. Three nights. A little girl had cried herself to sleep while this woman calmly hosted charity lunches upstairs. I stepped closer. "Where is Marco?" "I have no idea." "You spoke to him yesterday." "I speak to many employees." "You ordered him to guard the western corridor." Her smile remained. "Did I?" She was good. Very good. Every answer revealed nothing while sounding perfectly reasonable. Most people would have stopped there. I wasn't most people. "You lied about Aunt Rosa." Her smile faded. Only slightly. "I don't know what you mean." "She's been dead for almost a year." Silence. "I misspoke." "No." I took another step. "You tested Sophie." She blinked once. "You wanted to know whether she remembered the conversation." Still silence. "You expected a five-year-old to repeat your lie." For the first time... Something cold appeared behind Celeste's elegant mask. "You seem unusually emotional today." "No." "I've simply run out of patience." The air between us tightened. Around us, every servant remained frozen. No one dared interrupt. Finally Celeste smiled again. Slowly. "Be careful, Adrian." The way she said my name sent ice through my veins. "You may discover things about your family that you aren't ready to hear." I stared at her. "What does that mean?" "You'll find out." Before I could respond... A scream erupted upstairs. High. Terrified. Sophie. I ran. The entire house exploded into motion. Two guards followed me. The others rushed toward the staircase. Sophie's bedroom door stood wide open. Inside... Everything had been destroyed. Furniture overturned. Drawers emptied. The mattress slashed open. Feathers floated through the air like falling snow. One nurse lay unconscious beside the crib. The medic assigned to Elena... Was gone. So was Elena. Sophie's rabbit lay on the floor. Covered in blood. Not much. Just enough. Sophie herself stood trembling in the corner. Unable to speak. I knelt immediately. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head violently. "They..." Her breathing became uneven. "They took Mommy again." Rage settled over me with terrifying clarity. Not hot. Cold. Precise. Someone had kidnapped a wounded woman from inside my own house. Surrounded by armed guards. There had been no alarm. No gunfire. No witnesses. Only impossible silence. Then Sophie whispered something so softly I almost missed it. "They left this." She opened her tiny hand. Inside rested a black chess piece. A king. Carved from obsidian. Its base carried a single silver engraving. A crown. And beneath it... One Latin sentence. Veritas Nunquam Sepulta. The truth is never buried. Rinaldi stared at it. His face turned white. "You've seen this before," I said. He didn't answer. "You have." Finally... He whispered, "My father told me never to speak that phrase." "Why?" "He said..." Rinaldi's hands began shaking. "...because everyone who searched for the truth beneath the Valenti estate..." He looked toward the basement door. "...disappeared." At that exact moment... The mansion's grandfather clock struck noon. One. Two. Three. ... Twelve. On the twelfth chime... Every security monitor in the estate suddenly switched on by itself. One hundred and twenty-seven cameras. Every screen. The same image. A masked figure sitting calmly in a wooden chair. Behind him... Elena. Still alive. Still tied. The figure slowly lifted a voice changer. Then spoke directly into the cameras. "Welcome home, Adrian." A pause. "You've opened the first door." Another pause. "But you've been living inside the lie..." His gloved hand gently rested on Elena's shoulder. "...for sixteen years." The screen flickered. Then one final sentence appeared in white letters across every monitor. IF YOU WANT HER ALIVE... COME ALONE. END OF CHAPTER 2 / Chapter 3 / 14

CHAPTER 4: THE BOY WHO SHOULD HAVE DIED

CHAPTER 4: THE BOY WHO SHOULD HAVE DIED

No one reached for a weapon.

No one panicked.

The thirty people inside the underground chamber simply watched me with calm, almost respectful expressions.

As if they had expected this moment for years.

The old man stepped forward.

He looked to be in his seventies.

Silver hair.

Straight posture.

Sharp blue eyes that had forgotten nothing.

"My name is Lucien."

His voice carried effortlessly through the chamber.

"You've spent sixteen years searching for answers."

I didn't move.

"I wasn't searching."

"No."

A faint smile touched his lips.

"You were kept from searching."

Behind him, Marco still knelt with his head lowered.

He refused to look at me.

I ignored him.

"My nephew."

The words felt unfamiliar.

"Where is he?"

Lucien raised one finger.

A wooden door at the far end of the chamber opened.

Footsteps echoed slowly across the stone floor.

One pair.

Steady.

Unhurried.

A young man emerged from the shadows.

Around sixteen years old.

Tall.

Dark hair.

Gray eyes.

He wore a simple black sweater instead of the formal clothes worn by everyone else.

The moment I saw his face...

My heart stopped.

He looked exactly like Victor.

Not merely similar.

It was as if my brother had stepped out of an old photograph sixteen years younger.

The room remained silent as the boy approached.

Lucien rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Adrian..."

He spoke gently.

"This is Julian."

The boy studied me carefully.

There was no fear in his eyes.

Only curiosity.

"So..."

His voice was calm.

"You're my uncle."

I couldn't answer.

Every memory of Victor flooded back at once.

His laugh.

His stubbornness.

The way he always stood with one hand in his pocket.

Julian stood exactly the same way.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

Yet he was standing only a few feet away.

Alive.


"You lied."

My voice was colder than I intended.

Lucien shook his head.

"No."

"Someone did."

He nodded.

"Many people did."

I stepped closer.

"If he's alive..."

I looked directly into Julian's eyes.

"...whose funeral did I attend?"

Silence settled over the chamber.

Even Lucien didn't answer immediately.

Finally he said,

"That..."

"...is the wrong question."

The words ignited something inside me.

"The wrong question?"

"Yes."

He slowly walked toward an enormous chessboard carved into the floor.

"The real question is..."

He picked up a white king.

"...why did someone need the world to believe the last Valenti heir was dead?"

I stared at Julian.

Last heir?

"I'm standing right here."

Lucien smiled sadly.

"No."

"You are the caretaker."

He turned the white king upside down.

"The heir..."

He placed the piece before Julian.

"...has always been him."


Before I could speak again...

The chamber doors burst open.

One of Lucien's men rushed inside.

His breathing was frantic.

"Sir!"

Lucien frowned.

"What happened?"

"The northern entrance has been breached."

Every face in the room changed.

Fear.

Real fear.

Lucien looked toward Marco.

"How many?"

Marco answered immediately.

"At least twelve."

"They're early."

Lucien's jaw tightened.

"They've never attacked during daylight before."

He turned toward me.

"You should leave."

I almost laughed.

"You kidnapped one of my employees."

"You hid my nephew."

"You manipulated my security chief."

"And now you're telling me to leave?"

Lucien stepped closer.

For the first time...

The confidence disappeared from his face.

"They're coming to kill him."

He looked at Julian.

"They've already failed once."

"They won't fail again."

A distant explosion shook the underground chamber.

Dust rained from the ceiling.

People shouted.

Someone rang an old brass alarm.

Julian didn't move.

He simply looked at me.

"Do you believe him?"

The question hit harder than the explosion.

I honestly didn't know.


Another blast echoed through the tunnels.

This one much closer.

Lucien pointed toward a side passage.

"Take Julian."

"No."

Julian folded his arms.

"I'm done running."

"Julian."

"No."

His voice echoed through the chamber.

"I've spent sixteen years hiding underground."

"I'm tired."

Lucien's expression hardened.

"You don't understand what's coming."

"I understand enough."

Julian looked at me again.

"My father left me one message."

My pulse quickened.

"He said..."

Julian spoke slowly, carefully.

"...if Uncle Adrian ever finds you..."

"...don't trust anyone."

A long silence followed.

"Not even you."

Lucien closed his eyes.

As though he had expected those words.

Another explosion.

Closer.

The lights flickered.

Then suddenly...

Every light in the chamber went out.

Darkness swallowed everything.

Only the emergency lamps remained.

Flashing red.

A scream echoed somewhere beyond the entrance.

Then gunfire.

Automatic weapons.

Not pistols.

Professional rifles.

Lucien whispered only one sentence.

"They're here."


The first masked attacker appeared seconds later.

Black tactical armor.

Night-vision helmet.

Suppressed rifle.

No insignia.

No flag.

No identification.

He wasn't trying to negotiate.

He opened fire the instant he entered the chamber.

Bullets shattered marble pillars.

People scattered in every direction.

Marco tackled Julian behind the giant stone chessboard.

I grabbed the nearest fallen pistol and returned fire.

The attacker dropped instantly.

Two more rushed through the doorway.

Then four.

Then six.

They moved with military precision.

Whoever they were...

They had trained for this.

One attacker shouted,

"Secure the heir!"

Not "kill everyone."

Not "capture Lucien."

Only one objective.

Julian.

Lucien looked at me across the chaos.

Now.

Finally.

I believed him.


Marco fired beside me.

Back to back.

Just like we had years ago.

Without looking at him, I spoke.

"You owe me an explanation."

"I know."

"You'll get one chance."

"I know."

"If you lie..."

"I won't."

Another attacker fell.

The firefight spread through the chamber.

Stone exploded into dust.

People screamed.

The underground sanctuary had become a battlefield.

Then...

Something impossible happened.

A masked attacker reached Julian.

Instead of shooting...

He removed his helmet.

The young man's face appeared.

Julian froze.

"So..."

he whispered.

"It really is you."

The attacker smiled.

He looked almost identical to Julian.

Same eyes.

Same face.

Same age.

Like looking into a mirror.

The chamber fell silent.

Even the gunfire seemed distant.

The stranger lowered his rifle.

Then calmly spoke the sentence that turned every certainty upside down.

May you like

"You've been living my life for sixteen years."

END OF CHAPTER 4

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