Chapter 3 - I ignored every order my father gave me.At midnight, I went to the chapel.
Alone.
The estate had become a maze of lies.
Every guard I had trusted might have belonged to my mother.
Every camera might have been watching me.
Every hallway might have concealed another prison.
I crossed the courtyard beneath heavy rain.
The chapel doors were open.
That frightened me more than a locked door would have.
I entered.
Candles burned along the altar.
No guards.
No Grace.
Only an old wooden chair in the center of the room.
On it sat a tape recorder.
I pressed play.
My mother’s voice filled the chapel.
“You are wondering why your wife disappeared.”
I stood still.
“She discovered the ledger.”
“What ledger?”
The recording continued.
“She found the original Ferraro accounts. The ones your father hid before his death.”
A pause.
“Grace threatened to expose us.”
I looked toward the altar.
Something was tucked beneath a candle.
A file.
I opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Bank accounts.
Names.
Payments.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police commanders.
Every powerful person in the region seemed connected to the Ferraro family.
Then I saw the final page.
My name.
LUCA FERRARO.
Under it was a note.
DESIGNATED SUCCESSOR.
I turned the page.
There was another name.
GRACE FERRARO.
And beside hers:
THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME.
My stomach twisted.
The recorder clicked.
My mother spoke again.
“She was not kidnapped because she was your wife.”
“She was kidnapped because she was going to become the mother of the next Ferraro heir.”
The recording stopped.
A door slammed behind me.
I turned.
Three men raised guns.
I fired before they could.
One dropped.
The second dove behind a pew.
The third ran.
I chased him outside.
Rain hammered the courtyard.
He disappeared behind the cemetery.
I followed.
Then I saw something strange.
A grave.
Freshly disturbed.
The name on the stone was mine.
LUCA FERRARO
I stared at it.
Below the name was tomorrow’s date.
My heart pounded.
A voice came from behind me.
“You weren't supposed to see that.”
I spun.
A woman stood beneath an umbrella.
Grace’s doctor.
Dr. Evelyn Shaw.
She had examined Grace throughout her pregnancy.
She lowered the umbrella.
“She is alive.”
I took one step forward.
“Where?”
“She was moved.”
“By who?”
She hesitated.
“Your brother.”
I froze.
“My brother is dead.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“That's what Elena wanted everyone to believe.”
I stared at her.
“My brother died with my father.”
“No.”
She looked terrified.
“Your brother survived the massacre.”
“What massacre?”
She glanced toward the estate.
“The night your father supposedly died.”
A car engine roared behind us.
Evelyn grabbed my arm.
“Get down.”
A bullet tore through the umbrella.
We dropped behind a stone wall.
More shots followed.
I pulled my weapon.
“How many?”
“Four. Maybe five.”
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Your mother's men.”
I looked toward the cemetery.
One of the attackers was approaching.
I raised my gun.
Then Evelyn suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“Wait.”
“What?”
She stared at the man's face.
“He isn't Elena's man.”
“Who is he?”
Her eyes widened.
“The man who has been guarding Grace.”
A second bullet struck the stone.
The attacker shouted:
“Luca!”
I knew the voice.
It was one of my father's oldest soldiers.
He ran toward us.
His face was bleeding.
“She escaped.”
I stood.
“Who escaped?”
“Grace.”
My heart stopped.
“Where is she?”
He pointed toward the forest.
“She found out what your mother did to the baby.”
I stared at him.
“What did she do?”
He hesitated.
May you like
Then whispered:
“The baby isn't the only heir.”
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