Chapter 6 - Vault 17The Moretti Bank vault opened at midnight.

Vincent entered alone.

Isabella waited outside with Emily and Grace.

Dominic stood near the corridor.

Nobody trusted anybody anymore.

Vault 17 was smaller than Vincent remembered.

He inserted the brass key.

The lock clicked.

The door opened.

Inside was a single wooden box.

No cash.

No jewelry.

No documents stacked in neat folders.

Just one photograph.

Vincent lifted it.

Sofia stood beside a little boy.

The boy was maybe three years old.

Dark hair.

Brown eyes.

A small scar over his right eyebrow.

Vincent stared.

He knew that scar.

Because he had one exactly like it.

His hands began shaking.

On the back of the photograph was a message.

His name is Luca.

Vincent's breath caught.

He sat down hard.

Another line.

He's yours.

For several seconds, Vincent could not move.

His wife had been pregnant.

He had never known.

She had given birth.

He had a son.

And someone had hidden him for three years.

He looked at another envelope.

Inside was a birth certificate.

Mother: Sofia Bellamy.

Father: Vincent Moretti.

Child: Luca Moretti.

Date of birth:

Three years earlier.

The same month Sofia vanished.

Vincent closed his eyes.

A sound escaped his throat.

Not a cry.

Something worse.

A broken breath carrying three years of grief.

Then he saw the second page.

Custody transferred under emergency protection.

No destination.

Only initials.

D.M.

Vincent went still.

Dominic Moretti.

His lieutenant.

His closest friend.

The man who had stood beside him through wars, funerals, betrayals, and every terrible night since Sofia vanished.

Vincent stepped out of the vault.

Dominic looked up.

“You found something.”

Vincent held the paper.

“D.M.”

Dominic's face changed.

“I can explain.”

Vincent drew his gun.

Everyone froze.

“You've been lying to me.”

Dominic slowly raised his hands.

“I protected the boy.”

“Where is he?”

“I don't know.”

“Don't lie.”

“I swear.”

Vincent pressed the weapon closer.

“Tell me where my son is.”

Dominic's eyes filled with anger.

“You weren't supposed to know yet.”

Vincent stared.

“Yet?”

Dominic exhaled.

“Sofia asked me to hide him.”

“You knew she was alive?”

“For eleven months.”

Vincent almost pulled the trigger.

“You let me believe she was dead.”

“She wanted you to survive.”

“From what?”

“From the people inside your organization.”

Vincent lowered the weapon slightly.

Dominic continued.

“Your security team was compromised.”

“Who?”

“Three men.”

“Names.”

Dominic gave him the names.

Two were dead.

One had vanished.

Vincent looked at the list.

Then froze.

The third name wasn't unfamiliar.

It was attached to someone currently working inside the estate.

A senior security chief.

Someone who had been standing ten feet away when Emily vanished.

Vincent turned toward the corridor.

Dominic whispered:

“Don't go back there.”

“Why?”

“Because Charles is already inside.”

Vincent looked down.

The blue phone vibrated.

A new voice message.

Sofia.

Vincent pressed play.

Her voice was weaker than before.

“If you found Vault 17…”

A long pause.

“…you know about Luca.”

Vincent's eyes closed.

Sofia continued.

“I wanted to tell you.”

Her breathing became shaky.

“But I couldn't.”

Then:

“Because the first time they tried to kill me, they used our son.”

Vincent opened his eyes.

The recording continued.

“Charles doesn't want your money, Vince.”

“He wants something you inherited from your father.”

Vincent frowned.

“What?”

Sofia whispered:

“A ledger.”

The recording ended.

Another message appeared.

THE LEDGER IS IN THE HOUSE.

Then:

CHARLES KNOWS WHERE.

Vincent looked at Dominic.

“Where?”

Dominic's face had gone pale.

“In your father's study.”

Vincent remembered the room.

It had been locked since his father died.

Only two people had keys.

Vincent.

And Charles.

A crash sounded from upstairs.

Then a scream.

Emily.

Vincent ran.

He reached the grand staircase.

Grace stood at the top.

Blood was running from her forehead.

“Emily!”

Grace pointed down the hall.

“He took her.”

“Who?”

She could barely speak.

“Your father’s study.”

Vincent looked toward the locked corridor.

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