Chapter 11 - THE FIRST LUCYBianca was barely conscious.

Vittorio knelt beside her.

“What do you mean?”

Bianca coughed.

“Your father created the entire lie.”

His father laughed.

“She's delirious.”

“Shut up.”

Vittorio looked at Bianca.

“Who was the first Lucy?”

Bianca closed her eyes.

“Isabella had a daughter before you knew about her.”

Vittorio looked at his real daughter.

She went pale.

“My daughter?”

“Yes.”

Isabella whispered:

“I had a sister?”

Bianca nodded.

“Lucy was her name.”

Vittorio stared.

The girl standing beside him had the same name as the child he believed was his daughter.

Everything suddenly became unbearable.

“What happened to her?”

Bianca's eyes filled with tears.

“Your father killed her.”

Isabella covered her mouth.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because she wasn't obedient.”

Vittorio's father stepped forward.

“That is enough.”

Vittorio raised his weapon.

“Don't move.”

His father smiled.

“You still believe guns solve family problems.”

“No.”

Vittorio's voice shook.

“Sometimes they do.”

His father stared at him.

Then said:

“You killed her too.”

Vittorio froze.

“What?”

“You were there.”

A memory flashed.

A hallway.

Blood.

A child crying.

His mother's voice.

Vittorio fell backward.

Images began returning.

He was twenty-seven.

He had discovered the trafficking network.

He had confronted his father.

A little girl was hiding behind Isabella.

Someone raised a gun.

A shot.

Isabella screaming.

Vittorio falling.

Then darkness.

He gasped.

His mother had erased his memory.

Not to hide the crime.

To protect him.

Because he had been shot in the head.

The man who pulled the trigger wasn't his father.

It was Marcus.

Marcus stepped forward.

“I was following orders.”

Vittorio looked at him.

“You killed her.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because she saw me.”

Lucy suddenly whispered:

“That's not true.”

Everyone turned.

She pointed at Marcus.

“You killed Grandma too.”

Marcus's face changed.

“What?”

Lucy was crying.

“I remember.”

The cemetery fell silent.

“Grandma wasn't killed in the study.”

Vittorio looked at her.

“She was taken outside.”

Lucy continued.

“She told me to hide.”

“Where?”

“In the car.”

Marcus stepped backward.

Lucy pointed at him.

“You came after her.”

Marcus shook his head.

“No.”

“You had blood on your hands.”

Bianca closed her eyes.

Vittorio understood.

His daughter had remembered.

The Black Ledger wasn't merely financial records.

It was a map of every crime.

Every name.

Every payment.

Every body.

And Isabella had hidden the final evidence inside a child's memory.

Vittorio turned toward his father.

“Where is the vault?”

His father smiled.

“You'll never find it.”

Vittorio looked at Lucy.

She slowly pointed toward the cemetery chapel.

“Under Grandma.”

Everyone froze.

“My mother's grave?”

Lucy nodded.

“There's a door.”

Vittorio stood.

He walked toward the chapel.

His father suddenly shouted:

“Stop!”

Vittorio turned.

For the first time, his father's mask had disappeared.

He looked terrified.

Not angry.

Terrified.

Vittorio smiled.

“You're afraid.”

His father said nothing.

Vittorio pushed open the chapel door.

Behind Isabella Bellini's altar was a stone panel.

He moved it.

A staircase descended beneath the cemetery.

At the bottom was a steel vault.

On the door was one sentence.

ONLY A SON WHO REMEMBERS CAN ENTER.

Vittorio touched the lock.

May you like

I Came Home Early and Found My Housekeeper’s 3-Year-Old Daughter Scrubbi...

I returned home hours earlier than expected and discovered my housekeeper’s three-year-old daughter standing barefoot in the laund...

My Family Inherited Millions and Left Me a Ruined House. Four Months Lat...

The lawyer’s office fell silent as my grandmother’s will was read, and I watched my family inherit millions while I received nothi...

A Desperate Mother Begged a Billionaire for a Job to Feed Her Two Childr...

I was stranded on a lonely Arizona highway with two starving children, a pair of ruined suitcases, and no way to reach our destina...

The door opened.

And inside was a coffin.