Chapter 2: The Man Who Knew My Father
I didn't sleep.
Not because of the pain, although my shoulder throbbed whenever I moved.
Not because of the unfamiliar bed or the armed men stationed outside my bedroom.
I couldn't sleep because of one sentence.
Your father didn't simply walk out on your family.
At six in the morning, I was staring at the ceiling when the door opened.
A woman entered carrying a silver tray.
She was in her late fifties, with neatly pinned gray hair and a warm face that seemed completely out of place in a house filled with armed men.
“Good morning, sweetheart.””
I blinked.
“Good morning.””
“My name is Sofia. I'm the housekeeper. I've been looking after Mr. Moretti's family for thirty years.””
She placed the tray on the bedside table.
There was coffee, toast, scrambled eggs, and a small bowl of strawberries.
“I didn't order breakfast.””
Sofia smiled.
“Neither did I. But Mr. Moretti has a terrible habit of worrying about people without knowing how to show it.””
I looked toward the door.
“Is he always like that?””
“Like what?””
“Terrifying.””
Sofia laughed softly.
“Only when he's awake.””
That surprised a small laugh out of me.
She adjusted the pillow behind my back.
“Careful with that shoulder.””
“Thank you.””
Her expression softened as she studied my face.
“You gave us quite a fright, you know.””
“I'm sorry.””
“Don't apologize. Matteo hasn't stopped talking about you since the accident. He told everyone at breakfast that you were his guardian angel.””
I lowered my eyes.
“He's a lovely little boy.””
“He is.””
Sofia hesitated.
Then she added, “He's had a difficult few years.””
I looked up.
“What happened to his mother?””
Her hands paused over the breakfast tray.
“Isabella died when Matteo was very young.””
“I'm sorry.””
“So is he.””
She looked toward the window.
“Mr. Moretti has never been the same since.””
Before I could ask anything else, a small voice came from the hallway.
“Sofia!””
Matteo appeared in the doorway, wearing blue pajamas covered in little dinosaurs.
He was holding a stuffed bear by one leg.
“Can I see Elena?””
Sofia smiled.
“You can, but you must be gentle.””
Matteo hurried to the bed.
“Look what I brought!””
He held up a small wooden box.
“What's inside?””
“My treasure.””
He opened it.
Inside were three toy cars, a marble, a plastic dinosaur, and a photograph of a smiling woman with dark hair.
I recognized her immediately as his mother from the portrait hanging in the hallway.
“That's your mommy?”” I asked.
Matteo nodded.
“Papa says she was the prettiest lady in the world.””
“She certainly looks beautiful.””
“She liked strawberries.””
I glanced at the bowl on my tray.
“Then perhaps you should have some.””
Matteo carefully took one.
“Can I ask you something?””
“Of course.””
“Does your mommy live somewhere far away?””
My smile faded.
“My mother passed away when I was younger.””
He looked down at the photograph.
“Do you miss her?””
“Every day.””
He thought about that.
Then he placed his small hand over mine.
“I miss mine too.””
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then the door opened again.
Dante stood there.
He was wearing a charcoal suit, a crisp white shirt, and the same expression of controlled authority I had seen the previous night.
But his eyes softened when they landed on Matteo.
“What's happening here?””
Matteo held up his treasure box.
“I'm showing Elena Mommy.””
Dante approached the bed.
“That's very nice, piccolo.””
“Can Elena come to breakfast with us?””
“Not until the doctor clears her.””
Matteo frowned.
“Then breakfast can come here.””
Dante looked at Sofia.
A second later, she was smiling.
“I'll arrange it.””
After she left, Dante pulled a chair beside the bed.
“I see you've made yourself a friend.””
“Your son is persuasive.””
“He gets that from his mother.””
His gaze lingered on the photograph.
Then his expression changed.
“Have you been thinking about what I told you?””
“How could I not?””
“Good.””
I put down my coffee.
“Start talking.””
Dante studied me.
“Your father worked for my grandfather.””
I frowned.
“My father was a mechanic.””
“That's what he told your mother.””
“What did he actually do?””
“He was an accountant. A very talented one. He managed financial records for several companies controlled by my family.””
I stared at him.
“My father?””
“Yes.””
“That's impossible.””
“Why?””
“Because he spent most of his life fixing old cars. He could barely keep a household budget.””
Dante's expression didn't change.
“People can be very convincing when they want to disappear.””
I remembered the last night I had seen my father.
I was twelve.
He had stood in the kitchen wearing his brown work jacket, arguing with my mother in a voice so low I couldn't make out the words.
I remembered the suitcase beside the door.
I remembered him kneeling to kiss my forehead.
And I remembered the promise.
I'll be back before your birthday, sweetheart.
He never came.
“What did he steal?”” I asked.
“A ledger.””
“What kind of ledger?””
“A record of financial transactions, payments, names, and accounts. Information that could have destroyed several powerful people.””
“And you think he has it?””
“I know he took it.””
“How?””
“Because the last person who saw him alive was my grandfather.””
I felt sick.
“Why would my father take something like that?””
Dante's eyes darkened.
“That is the question I've been trying to answer.””
“Why didn't you find him?””
“We did.””
My breath caught.
“What?””
“We searched for years. Every lead ended in a dead end. Eventually, we believed he had been killed.””
“And you never told me?””
“I didn't know about you until recently.””
I stared at him.
“Recently?””
He nodded.
“Your name appeared in an old file connected to your father's disappearance. I had someone verify it.””
“Why were you looking for him now?””
Dante was silent.
Then he reached into his jacket and removed a folded document.
“Because three months ago, someone started using an account that should have been inactive since the year your father disappeared.””
He placed it on the bed.
I studied the numbers and unfamiliar names.
At the bottom was a handwritten note.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
My father's.
My fingers began trembling.
“Where did you get this?””
“It was delivered to one of my offices.””
I looked up.
“Why is my father's handwriting on a document connected to you?””
“Because I believe he has been trying to contact someone.””
“Who?””
Dante held my gaze.
“You.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Elena—”
“No. He abandoned us. My mother died working two jobs because he couldn't be bothered to come home. I spent years wondering whether I had done something wrong.””
My voice cracked.
“And now you're telling me he might have been watching me?””
Dante said nothing.
I pushed the document away.
“I don't want anything from him.””
“That's your right.””
“Then why am I here?””
His answer came quietly.
“Because someone tried to kill my son, and the evidence suggests the same person has been looking for you.””
A chill moved through me.
“Do you think the chandelier was meant for Matteo?””
“I think it was meant to look like an accident.””
“And you think my father has something to do with it?””
“I think someone wants what he took. And I think they believe you know where it is.””
I stared at the paper.
“I don't know anything.””
“I believe you.””
“Then let me go home.””
Dante leaned forward.
“Elena, your apartment has already been searched. Your phone has been cloned. Someone has been following you for at least eleven days.””
My stomach dropped.
“Eleven days?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't I notice?””
“Because you're busy surviving. Some people exploit that.””
I looked at my hands.
For years, I had worked double shifts, skipped meals, and counted every dollar before spending it.
I had believed my life was difficult because I was unlucky.
Now I wondered whether someone had been watching me struggle.
A sudden knock interrupted us.
Vittorio entered without waiting.
“Boss. We have a problem.””
Dante stood.
“What?””
“Someone called the main gate.””
“And?””
“They asked for Elena Rossi.””
My blood turned to ice.
Dante's eyes narrowed.
“What did they say?””
Vittorio looked at me.
Then back at Dante.
“They said they were calling on behalf of her father.””
I couldn't move.
Vittorio continued.
“They also left a message.””
Dante's voice dropped.
“What message?””
Vittorio placed a small phone on the bedside table.
A recording began playing.
A man's voice filled the room.
Older. Rougher.
But unmistakably familiar.
“Elena, if you're hearing this, stay away from the Moretti family.””
I stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
“They'll tell you they want to protect you. They'll tell you your father was a thief.””
A pause.
May you like
Then the words that shattered the room.
“Your mother didn't die from illness, sweetheart. The Morettis killed her.””
