Chapter 8 - The Night Daniel DisappearedMatteo told the story like it was a business transaction.
Twelve months earlier.
Daniel had discovered the vault.
He wanted to expose Black Meridian.
But Alessandro intercepted him.
“You stopped him,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I believed exposing it would get everyone killed.”
“You kidnapped him.”
“I protected him.”
“From whom?”
Matteo.
The answer came from Elena.
She pointed toward her uncle.
“Matteo ordered Daniel killed.”
My eyes moved between them.
“Then why is he alive?”
Alessandro answered.
“Because I faked his death.”
“You hid him.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
He hesitated.
Then a gunshot shattered a window.
Everyone ducked.
Matteo cursed.
“Someone else is here.”
Victor checked the cameras.
“We're surrounded.”
Alessandro looked at Elena.
“Move.”
She nodded.
We escaped through a service tunnel.
The tunnel led to an old church outside the city.
Inside, a man waited.
Older.
Thin.
Bearded.
I stopped breathing.
“Daniel?”
He looked at me.
His eyes filled with tears.
“Nora.”
Emma screamed.
“Daddy!”
She ran.
Daniel dropped to his knees despite the pain.
He caught her.
He held her like he had been waiting years.
I stood frozen.
All the anger.
All the grief.
All the nights I had cried alone.
They collided inside me.
Then Daniel looked at Alessandro.
“You brought her.”
Alessandro nodded.
“I had no choice.”
Daniel's smile disappeared.
“You should never have brought Isabella here.”
I turned.
“Why?”
Daniel looked at Emma.
“Because they found us.”
A sound echoed outside.
Cars.
Many of them.
Daniel stood.
“We have five minutes.”
“To do what?”
He looked at me.
“To tell you the truth.”
He opened an old metal box.
Inside were passports.
Money.
Photographs.
And a letter.
He handed it to me.
It was addressed to me.
My hands shook as I opened it.
I read the first line.
Then I stopped.
I couldn't breathe.
Daniel had written:
Nora, if you are reading this, then Alessandro has finally failed to protect our daughter.
I looked up.
Alessandro was standing in the doorway.
Daniel continued.
“There is one person who knows where the vault is.”
“Who?”
Daniel looked at Emma.
“She does.”
My daughter smiled.
Then she walked toward the wall.
She touched an old painting.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a keypad.
Emma placed her tiny hand against it.
The machine beeped.
ACCESS GRANTED.
Everyone froze.
The vault was opening.
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And on the screen appeared a message:
WELCOME, ISABELLA MORETTI.
