Chapter 3 - THE DEAD WOMAN’S VOICELuca escaped through the hotel laundry shaft less than two minutes before the third floor collapsed.
Rain hammered his shoulders as he emerged into an alley.
Matteo was waiting.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing.”
“What did you find?”
Luca handed him the ledger.
Matteo opened it.
His face changed.
“This isn’t accounting.”
“No.”
“It’s names.”
“Read them.”
Matteo turned the first page.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officials.
Bank directors.
Property developers.
Then one name appeared in black ink.
Victor Valenti.
Luca’s father.
Beside it was an amount.
Twenty million dollars.
Then another line.
Payment completed.
Matteo looked up.
“Boss…”
“Keep going.”
Three pages later, they found another name.
Isabella Valenti.
An amount.
Five million.
Then Adriano.
Two million.
Then a name Luca had never seen in any family document.
Gabriel Russo.
Elena’s father.
Matteo looked stunned.
“Your father paid Elena’s family.”
“For what?”
“To disappear.”
Luca stared at the ledger.
“What happened to Gabriel Russo?”
“Dead eight years ago.”
Luca looked at the rain.
“And Elena was told nothing.”
A light switched on upstairs in the abandoned hotel.
Then another.
Then another.
Someone was still inside.
Luca looked back.
“We need to go.”
They drove directly to a safe apartment.
At 2:16 a.m., Luca inserted the old videotape into a portable player.
The screen flickered.
Static.
Then a woman appeared.
Luca stopped breathing.
His mother.
Alive.
Younger than he remembered.
She sat in Room 317.
Her eyes were red.
Her hands were shaking.
“Luca.”
His body went rigid.
“If you are seeing this, you are older now.”
She smiled sadly.
“I hoped you would never need to see this.”
The camera shifted.
His father entered the room.
Victor Valenti.
Young.
Cold.
Angry.
“You promised,” his mother said.
Victor closed the door.
“I did.”
“You promised Luca would be protected.”
“He will be.”
“From whom?”
Victor looked at her.
“From the family.”
The tape skipped.
His mother leaned toward the camera.
“There are things about the Valenti family that Luca must never know unless they come for him.”
She took a breath.
“The companies.”
“The offshore accounts.”
“The names.”
“None of them began with your father.”
Luca leaned closer.
“He inherited the machine.”
The screen flickered.
His mother continued.
“The person who built it was someone you call family.”
A shadow appeared behind her.
She turned.
The recording became distorted.
Then Luca heard a voice.
A woman’s voice.
“You should have listened.”
The screen went black.
Luca looked at Matteo.
“Play it again.”
“It’s damaged.”
“Fix it.”
“I’ll try.”
Luca stood.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Silence.
Then breathing.
“Who is this?”
A whisper.
“Your mother was telling you the wrong thing.”
Luca stared into the darkness.
“Who are you?”
“You keep looking at the dead.”
A pause.
“You should be looking at the living.”
The call ended.
Matteo looked toward the window.
“We may have company.”
A reflection moved across the glass.
Luca drew his gun.
The window exploded.
A bullet tore through the room.
Matteo dragged Luca down.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Luca crawled to the wall.
“Stay down.”
Matteo looked toward the shattered window.
“Sniper?”
“Maybe.”
Luca looked across the street.
A figure was standing on the rooftop opposite.
Long coat.
No weapon visible.
Just watching.
Then the figure raised a hand.
And waved.
The person turned.
Disappeared.
Matteo ran downstairs.
Luca followed.
Outside, they found a black envelope taped to their car.
Inside was a single photograph.
Elena.
Alive.
Sitting in a chair.
Beside her was Marco.
Also alive.
Both blindfolded.
Under the photograph was a note.
ONE OF THEM KNOWS THE LEDGER IS FAKE.
Luca stared at the words.
Another message arrived.
ASK ELENA WHY HER MOTHER DIED.
Luca’s expression hardened.
“Whoever is doing this wants us to distrust Elena.”
Matteo shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed to the photograph.
“Look closer.”
Luca did.
There was a reflection in the mirror behind Elena.
A man standing outside the frame.
Luca zoomed in.
His blood turned cold.
He recognized the face.
Not Adriano.
Not Victor.
Not Matteo.
Someone else.
Someone who had been dead for fifteen years.
Luca whispered the name.
“Gabriel Russo.”
The phone rang again.
This time, a woman spoke.
“Now you understand.”
“Where are they?”
“You have until sunrise.”
“To do what?”
“Choose which prisoner gets to live.”
Luca’s grip tightened.
“And the other?”
The woman laughed softly.
“You already know what happens to people who learn too much.”
The call ended.
Matteo stared at Luca.
“Boss…”
Luca looked at Gabriel Russo’s photograph.
His eyes narrowed.
“If Gabriel is alive…”
May you like
He slowly raised his gaze.
“…then Elena’s entire life is a lie.”
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