Chapter 10 - The MemoryAlessandro stared.
“Your grandfather?”
Lily nodded.
“He visits me.”
Sophia covered her mouth.
“Lily.”
“He comes when Mommy sleeps.”
Alessandro knelt.
“What does he look like?”
Lily shrugged.
“Old.”
“Does he say his name?”
She nodded.
“Grandpa Antonio.”
Everyone exchanged looks.
Alessandro tried to remain calm.
“Where do you see him?”
“In the room under the stairs.”
The hidden room.
Alessandro's heart raced.
“What does he tell you?”
“He says not to trust the man with clean hands.”
Every eye moved instinctively.
Marco looked down at his gloves.
Alessandro's attention shifted.
“Clean hands?”
Lily nodded.
“The bad man never gets dirty.”
A chill ran through Alessandro.
He suddenly remembered something.
At every crime scene his father had ever ordered cleaned, there had always been one constant.
No blood on the hands of the person giving orders.
Alessandro looked around.
Everyone was watching everyone.
Then Lily pointed toward the kitchen.
“He washed them.”
Alessandro moved.
Marco followed.
In the kitchen sink, water dripped from a silver faucet.
A white towel lay nearby.
There was a faint reddish stain.
Too faint to be blood.
Wine, perhaps.
Alessandro picked it up.
A smell reached him.
Lemon soap.
The same soap his father had insisted every servant use when he was alive.
Marco frowned.
“Nothing unusual.”
Alessandro remembered the recording.
Trust the man who refuses the throne.
Gabriel had refused the empire.
Marco had refused to become a family head.
Victor had never wanted public power.
Elena had wanted none.
Who wanted the throne?
A name emerged.
Luca Moretti.
His cousin.
The one missing from the party.
Alessandro turned.
“Where is Luca?”
Marco checked his radio.
“No answer.”
Alessandro called him.
Straight to voicemail.
Then his phone received a photograph.
Luca.
Standing beside a woman.
The woman was elderly.
White hair.
Elegant black dress.
Alessandro recognized her instantly.
His mother.
Alive.
The message contained coordinates.
And one final sentence:
COME ALONE. BRING THE GIRL.
Gabriel saw the photograph.
His face went pale.
“That's not your mother.”
Alessandro turned.
“What?”
May you like
Gabriel whispered:
“That woman is the reason our family burned.”
