Chapter 2: The Woman in the Photograph
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
The kitchen smelled of spilled whiskey, broken glass, and the roast chicken cooling beneath the dining room lights.
Lucy clung to Vittorio's hand.
Emma stood beside the pantry with her phone pressed against her chest.
Bianca stared at the photograph as if she could destroy it simply by refusing to look away.
Vittorio extended his hand.
“Give me the phone, Emma.””
She hesitated.
“Sir, there are things on here you need to see privately.””
“Then I'll see them privately.””
Emma handed him the device.
His thumb hovered over the photograph.
The silver-haired man wore the same watch Vittorio had given him for his sixtieth birthday. A gold Patek Philippe with a scratched clasp, because Anthony Moretti had always refused to take it off, even when he worked in the garden.
Anthony had been his friend since they were nineteen.
They had started their first business in a rented garage, sleeping on cardboard boxes when they couldn't afford rent and eating sandwiches bought with their last few dollars.
Anthony had stood beside Vittorio at his father's funeral.
He had held Lucy as a newborn while Vittorio cried quietly in a hospital corridor.
And three months ago, Vittorio had stood beside Anthony's coffin, listening to a priest describe the sudden heart attack that had supposedly taken his friend.
Now Anthony was sitting in a restaurant.
Alive.
Or at least, alive when the photograph had been taken.
Vittorio enlarged the image.
The timestamp read 11:47 p.m., the night before Anthony's funeral.
“Who took this?”” he asked.
Emma answered carefully.
“I did.””
“You followed my wife?””
“No, sir. I was asked to deliver something to the restaurant.””
“By whom?””
Emma looked at Bianca.
Bianca's chin lifted.
“Don't you dare.””
Vittorio turned toward her.
“Answer the question, Emma.””
“Mrs. DeLuca asked me to deliver an envelope. She said it contained documents for her brother.””
Marcus immediately stepped forward.
“I've never seen that envelope.””
Emma looked at him.
“You were sitting at the same table.””
Marcus's face flushed.
“Watch your mouth.””
“Marcus,” Vittorio said, “sit down.””
“I am not one of your employees.””
“No. Employees know better than to lie to my face.””
Marcus's fingers curled into fists.
For a moment, Vittorio thought he might attack again.
Instead, Marcus pulled out a chair and sat.
Vittorio returned his attention to Emma.
“What happened after you took the photograph?””
“I went back to the car. But I could hear them through the restaurant's open terrace doors.””
“What did you hear?””
Emma glanced at Lucy.
Vittorio understood immediately.
“Take my daughter upstairs,” he told her.
“Stay with her. Lock the door if anyone tries to come in.””
Lucy tightened her grip.
“No, Daddy.””
He crouched in front of her.
“Sweetheart, I need to talk to the grown-ups.””
“Are you going to leave me?””
The question nearly broke him.
He cupped her face between his hands.
“Never.””
“Promise?””
“I promise.””
Lucy searched his expression.
Then she nodded, though she didn't release his hand until Emma gently led her toward the stairs.
Halfway across the kitchen, Lucy turned.
“Daddy?””
“Yes?””
“Will I have to eat from the floor tomorrow?””
Vittorio's throat tightened.
“No, baby. You will never have to do that again.””
She disappeared around the corner.
Only when he heard the upstairs door close did he stand.
“Now,” he said to Emma, “tell me everything.””
Emma unlocked another recording.
A woman's voice filled the kitchen.
Bianca's voice.
“I don't care what you promised him. The money has to be moved before Vittorio returns.””
A man's voice answered.
“He's not supposed to return until Friday.””
“He changed his flight.””
“Then we accelerate the plan.””
There was a pause.
Then Bianca spoke again.
“And Lucy?””
Vittorio stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
“She's becoming a problem,” Bianca said.
“She asks too many questions. She knows I took the letters.””
“What letters?””
“The ones from her mother.””
Marcus swore under his breath.
Vittorio slowly turned toward him.
“What letters?””
Bianca stepped forward.
“Those recordings are taken out of context.””
Vittorio didn't look at her.
“What letters, Bianca?””
She folded her arms.
“Your daughter found some old correspondence. I put it away because she was too young to understand it.””
“Where did you put it?””
“Somewhere safe.””
“Where?””
“I don't remember.””
Vittorio's eyes narrowed.
“You expect me to believe you took letters from my daughter's dead mother, hid them, and then forgot where you put them?””
Bianca's lips pressed together.
Marcus rose.
“This is ridiculous. We're talking about a child finding old papers. Why are you acting like she's uncovered a government conspiracy?””
“Because your sister mentioned my daughter's name in a conversation about money.””
Marcus looked at Emma's phone.
“Those recordings could be fabricated.””
“Then you won't mind if my lawyers examine them.””
Marcus's expression shifted.
Just slightly.
Enough.
Vittorio noticed.
“Interesting,” he said.
Marcus frowned.
“What?””
“You were certain the recordings were fake a moment ago. Now you're worried about my lawyers.””
“I'm worried about you ruining your family over some nonsense.””
Vittorio stepped closer.
“You should be worried about yourself.””
Bianca moved between them again.
“Vittorio, listen to me. I know how this looks. I know you're angry. But I love you.””
He stared at her.
“Do you?””
“Yes.””
“Then tell me why you were meeting Anthony the night before his funeral.””
Bianca's mouth opened.
Then closed.
“I didn't know he was going to die.””
“That's not what I asked.””
“He was alive when I saw him.””
“And yet you attended his funeral without saying a word.””
“He asked me not to tell you.””
Vittorio's expression hardened.
“Why?””
Bianca looked at Marcus.
It was a tiny movement.
But it was enough to make Vittorio's stomach tighten.
“Why?”” he repeated.
Bianca exhaled sharply.
“Anthony was afraid of you.””
For several seconds, the only sound was the refrigerator humming.
Vittorio almost laughed.
“Anthony Moretti was afraid of me?””
“He believed you'd destroy him if you discovered what he'd done.””
“What had he done?””
Bianca shook her head.
“I don't know everything.””
“You sat with him at a restaurant the night before his funeral. You delivered an envelope. You discussed moving money.
You mentioned my daughter. Don't insult me by pretending you know nothing.””
Her eyes flashed.
“Fine. Anthony said you were planning to take everything.””
“Everything I built with him?””
“He said the company was no longer safe. He said there were people who wanted you dead.””
Vittorio remained silent.
Bianca seized on the silence.
“He told me he needed time to disappear. He said the funeral would buy him enough time to get away.””
“Then why did you attend the funeral?””
“Because he asked me to.””
“And you helped him fake his death?””
Bianca's face tightened.
“I helped him survive.””
Vittorio looked at the photograph again.
The image had been taken outside a restaurant overlooking the river. Anthony wore a dark suit, and Bianca sat opposite him with an envelope beside her plate.
A second photograph showed Anthony leaving through a side entrance.
A third showed Marcus waiting beside a black sedan.
Vittorio enlarged that one.
Marcus was clearly visible.
The driver's door stood open.
Marcus had one hand extended toward Anthony.
“Care to explain?”” Vittorio asked.
Marcus looked away.
“I was giving him a ride.””
“Where?””
“Somewhere private.””
“Where?””
“I don't remember.””
Vittorio nodded slowly.
“Emma, do you have anything else?””
“Yes, sir.””
She opened a video.
The image was shaky, filmed through a gap in a curtain.
Bianca sat at a desk in the study, counting stacks of cash.
Marcus stood beside her.
On the desk lay a folder marked with the DeLuca company seal.
Marcus tapped the folder.
“Once the transfer clears, we won't need to worry about him anymore.””
Bianca placed the cash inside a leather bag.
“And Lucy?””
Marcus sighed impatiently.
“Stop worrying about the child. Once the guardianship papers are signed, she'll be sent to that school you found.””
“What if Vittorio refuses?””
Marcus smiled.
“He won't have a choice.””
Bianca stopped counting.
“And if he comes home early?””
“Then we make sure he doesn't stay home for long.””
The video ended.
Vittorio stared at the black screen.
For a long time, he said nothing.
Then he placed the phone on the table with extraordinary care.
“Guardianship papers,” he repeated.
Bianca's face had gone pale.
“Vittorio—”
“Which school?””
“I don't remember the name.””
“Which school?””
“It was only an option.””
“Which school?””
She raised her voice.
“I said I don't remember!””
Vittorio leaned forward.
“Do you know what happens to people who use my daughter's name to cover up financial crimes?””
Bianca took a step backward.
“Don't threaten me.””
“I'm not threatening you. I'm explaining your future.””
He turned toward the stairs.
“Emma, call Dr. Harris. Tell him Lucy needs to be examined tonight. Then call my attorney, and ask him to come here immediately.””
Bianca's expression sharpened.
“You cannot take my daughter away from me.””
“Watch me.””
“You need my permission!””
“No,” Vittorio said.
“I need a judge's permission to make it permanent. But tonight, I need only to keep her safe.””
He took out his phone and dialed a number.
“Rafael? It's me. I need two security officers at the house immediately. Nobody leaves without being identified, and nobody enters without my approval.””
Bianca's face twisted.
“You're imprisoning us?””
“I'm securing my home.””
“This is insane!””
Vittorio ignored her.
He called another number.
“Daniel, I need a forensic accountant and an independent audit of every account connected to the family business. Start with transfers made during the past six months.””
He listened.
Then his expression changed.
“What do you mean the account has already been flagged?””
Silence.
Vittorio walked toward the window.
“When?””
He listened again.
“By whom?””
The answer came through the phone.
Vittorio's fingers tightened around it.
“Send me the documents.””
He ended the call.
For the first time that night, uncertainty crossed his face.
Bianca saw it.
She took a slow breath, and a strange confidence returned to her voice.
“You see?”” she said.
“This is bigger than me.””
Vittorio turned.
“What did you do?””
“I tried to protect us.””
“From what?””
She looked toward the front entrance.
“From the people who know what happened to Anthony.””
A car engine sounded outside.
Headlights swept across the kitchen windows.
Then came the crunch of tires on gravel.
Marcus hurried toward the window.
His expression drained of color.
“Oh, God.””
Vittorio moved beside him.
A black sedan had stopped at the entrance.
A man stepped out.
He wore a dark overcoat and carried a slim leather briefcase.
Vittorio recognized him immediately.
He was the attorney who had handled Anthony Moretti's estate.
The same attorney who had certified the documents confirming Anthony's death.
And the same man who had signed the statement declaring there was no surviving beneficiary.
Bianca whispered, “He's early.””
Vittorio looked at her.
“Who is he really working for?””
Before she could answer, the doorbell rang.
Then his phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message appeared on the screen.
*If you want Lucy to live long enough to learn the truth about her mother, don't let that man inside.*
Vittorio read it twice.
Then he looked toward the stairs.
May you like
For the first time in years, the most dangerous thing in his house wasn't the person standing in front of him.
It was the person he had never known was missing.
