Chapter 8 - The Woman Carlo Buried Without a Grave
Adrian had been sixteen the last time he saw Isabella Moretti.
She kissed his forehead.
Told him she loved him.
Then disappeared.
Carlo said she had run away with another man.
Adrian hated her for three years.
Then he stopped hating her and started pretending she had never existed.
Now she was standing in a mirror behind the man who supposedly caused her disappearance.
Elena watched his face.
“You need to know if it’s real.”
“Yes.”
“Could it be old?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“The painting.”
“What about it?”
“It was restored last year.”
The frame in the photograph showed the new restoration.
The image was recent.
Adrian stood.
“We’re going.”
Elena blinked.
“You spent yesterday telling me not to.”
“Yesterday my dead father was the problem. Today my dead mother is in his house.”
“Welcome to my life.”
He looked at her.
Despite everything, they both almost laughed.
The old Moretti house stood outside the city.
Adrian had not entered it since Carlo’s funeral.
Security surrounded the property from a distance.
He refused to take Elena inside.
She refused to remain outside.
They compromised.
Elena would enter with Adrian but remain behind his men.
She broke that agreement within six minutes.
The front door was unlocked.
No guards.
No alarm.
The house felt staged.
A record played somewhere upstairs.
Adrian recognized the music.
His mother’s favorite.
“Trap,” he whispered.
“Obviously.”
They entered the drawing room.
Empty.
Then a door opened.
Isabella Moretti stepped out.
She was older.
Thinner.
But unmistakably alive.
“Adrian.”
He could not speak.
She covered her mouth.
“My boy.”
He stood frozen.
Elena had never seen him helpless before.
Isabella moved toward him.
Adrian stepped back.
Pain crossed her face.
“I understand.”
“No,” Adrian said. “You don’t.”
“Carlo told you I abandoned you.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then where were you?”
“Prison.”
Adrian stared.
“Not a legal one.”
Isabella touched a scar near her wrist.
“Your father kept me in houses. Clinics. Places owned by men who owed him favors.”
“For twenty years?”
“Almost.”
“Why?”
“Because I discovered what he was building.”
“Project Inheritance.”
Her eyes widened.
“You know.”
“Marco knew.”
At his name, Isabella closed her eyes.
“Marco tried to free me.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
One year before Marco’s death.
“He found where I was being held. He arranged a transfer. Something went wrong.”
“Luca?”
“Yes.”
Elena watched Adrian absorb another betrayal.
“Where is Carlo?” he asked.
“Gone.”
“Santoro?”
“Gone.”
“Luca?”
Isabella hesitated.
“Upstairs.”
Adrian drew his weapon.
“No,” Isabella said.
“Why?”
“He wants to talk.”
“That would be new.”
“He says Carlo is going to kill him.”
“He deserves worse.”
“Adrian.”
“No.”
Isabella touched his arm.
He looked down at her hand.
Twenty years.
A mother’s touch after twenty years.
It nearly broke him.
“Please,” she said.
They went upstairs.
Luca sat in Adrian’s childhood bedroom.
Unarmed.
At least visibly.
He looked exhausted.
“You brought Elena.”
“She goes where she chooses,” Adrian said.
Elena glanced at him.
The sentence mattered.
Luca nodded.
“Fair.”
“Talk.”
Luca looked at Elena.
“I didn’t kill Marco.”
“You helped,” she said.
“Yes.”
The confession came too easily.
Elena’s hands curled.
“I gave Carlo the location of Marco’s meeting.”
“Why?”
“Because Carlo told me Marco was going to destroy all of us.”
“And you believed him?”
“I wanted to.”
“Why?”
“Because he promised me Adrian’s place.”
Adrian’s face became stone.
Luca laughed bitterly.
“There. That’s the truth. I was jealous. You got everything. The name. The respect. Marco’s loyalty.”
“You had my trust.”
“I wanted your throne.”
“You could have asked. I would have given it to you.”
Luca looked stunned.
Adrian’s voice was cold.
“I never wanted it.”
That hurt Luca more than anger would have.
“What does Carlo want now?” Elena asked.
“The money Marco put in Sofia’s trust.”
“He can’t touch it.”
“He doesn’t need the money.”
“Then?”
“He needs the evidence attached to it destroyed.”
“How?”
“Using both access keys.”
Adrian looked at the files.
“We have one.”
“Carlo has the second.”
“Then why does he need us?”
“The system requires Sofia’s biological guardian.”
Elena’s blood ran cold.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“And if I refuse?”
Luca looked at her.
“He takes Sofia.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“He’ll never get near her.”
Luca laughed.
“He already has.”
Adrian froze.
“What?”
Luca pointed toward the security feed on his phone.
The safe house.
Rosa’s home.
A black vehicle stood in the driveway.
Elena grabbed the phone.
“No.”
A man carried Sofia toward the car.
Rosa lay on the grass.
Motionless.
Elena screamed her daughter’s name though Sofia was miles away.
Adrian called his team.
No response.
Then his phone rang.
Carlo.
Adrian answered.
His father said only one sentence.
“Bring Elena to the harbor by midnight, or Sofia learns exactly how her father died.”
Then a child’s frightened voice came through the line.
May you like
“Mama?”
The connection ended.
