CHAPTER 2
Bellacorte appeared beyond the car windows like a city Elara had been warned about all her life without ever being shown why.
The harbor stretched beneath the hills, dark water catching the scattered lights of boats.
Old stone buildings climbed the slopes in uneven rows, their balconies crowded with flowers and shuttered windows.
Farther up, grand houses stood behind walls and iron gates, their gardens hidden from the street.
Elara watched them pass.
None of it looked like the place her father had feared.
It looked beautiful.
That almost made it worse.
The car turned away from the harbor and climbed a narrow road lined with cypress trees. The houses became fewer. The road grew darker.
Then two stone pillars appeared ahead.
A gate opened before the driver slowed.
Elara straightened.
Beyond it stood the Moretti estate.
The house was enormous, pale stone rising beneath a dark roof, with tall windows glowing against the night. Two guards stood near the entrance. Cameras were fixed beneath the eaves. More waited beside the driveway.
Elara counted them without meaning to.
One at the gate.
Two near the entrance.
Another beside the side path.
She glanced at the walls.
High.
Too high to climb quickly.
The car stopped.
Alessandro opened his door.
Elara stayed where she was.
"Is this supposed to make me feel safe?"
He looked at her.
"It is supposed to keep you alive."
She gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
His answer came without hesitation.
That bothered her more than an argument would have.
Dante stepped out and closed his door with a firm click.
Luca came around the other side.
Elara remained seated.
"I want to go home."
Alessandro held out his hand.
"You can't."
"I didn't ask permission."
His gaze rested on hers.
"Neither did the people watching your house."
She hated that he had an answer for everything.
Slowly, she stepped out.
The night air was cooler here. The smell of rain and salt drifted up from the harbor.
She looked toward the gate.
It was already closing.
Heavy iron met stone with a deep metallic sound.
Elara watched the lock slide into place.
Luca noticed.
"You count exits."
She looked at him.
"I count ways out."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
"I noticed."
Dante gave him a sideways glance.
"Don't encourage her."
"She doesn't need encouragement."
Elara looked between them.
"Do you always talk about people as if they aren't standing there?"
"Only when they're listening," Luca said.
Despite herself, she almost smiled.
Almost.
Alessandro gestured toward the house.
"Come inside."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not tonight."
"At least you're honest."
His expression tightened.
She walked past him.
Inside, the estate was even more impressive.
A wide marble hall opened beneath a high ceiling. A chandelier hung above them, casting warm light across dark wooden walls. Portraits filled one side of the room.
Generations of Morettis.
Elara slowed.
The oldest portraits showed stern men and women dressed in clothes from another era.
She searched the faces.
Then stopped.
A young Carlo Moretti stared back from one painting.
Beside him stood three men.
One was unfamiliar.
The other two looked strangely familiar.
Elara's attention sharpened.
"Your father's portrait isn't here."
Alessandro had stopped behind her.
She turned.
"I wasn't looking for it."
"You were."
"I was looking for answers."
His gray eyes held hers.
"You'll get some."
"How many?"
"Enough."
"That's not reassuring."
"No," he said quietly. "It isn't."
He walked toward the staircase.
Elara followed.
Behind them, the front doors closed.
The sound echoed through the hall.
And somewhere inside the estate, a lock turned.
Elara sat across from the three men in a formal sitting room that looked designed for conversations where nobody was expected to raise their voice.
A fire burned in the stone fireplace.
She barely noticed it.
Alessandro placed a folder on the table.
"Your father left an unresolved obligation."
Elara didn't touch the folder.
"You said that already."
"This concerns the Moretti, Romano, and De Santis families."
"How much did he owe?"
Alessandro opened the folder.
"There are several documents."
"How much?"
He looked at her.
"It isn't that simple."
"Then make it simple."
Dante leaned back.
"You have a habit of demanding answers."
"I've spent twenty-four years being told nothing."
That silenced him.
Luca glanced at the papers.
Alessandro slid one toward Elara.
She recognized her father's signature immediately.
Her stomach tightened.
The document carried the name of a Bellacorte company.
She read the page twice.
"This is his signature."
"Yes."
"He never told me about this company."
"He had reasons."
"You keep saying that."
She looked up.
"How much did he owe?"
Alessandro remained silent.
Elara's eyes narrowed.
"You told me this was a debt."
"It was."
"Then why won't you tell me the amount?"
"Because the money isn't the important part."
Her expression hardened.
"You just said it was a debt."
"It is."
"Then what is this really about?"
Dante shifted in his chair.
Luca looked toward Alessandro.
The exchange lasted less than a second.
Elara caught it.
"You know something."
Nobody answered.
She pushed the document back.
"Of course you do."
Alessandro closed the folder.
"Until we know who has been watching you, you remain here."
Elara stared at him.
"You mean I'm a prisoner."
"No."
"You brought me here without my permission."
"Because staying at your house was dangerous."
"You locked me inside a gate."
"For your protection."
"That's what prisoners are told."
Dante leaned forward.
"Nobody is going to hurt you here."
Elara turned to him.
"How comforting."
His jaw tightened.
Alessandro remained calm.
"You won't leave the estate without security."
"I'm not agreeing to that."
"You won't enter restricted areas."
"Why?"
"Because they're restricted."
"That isn't an answer."
"You won't contact anyone in Bellacorte."
Elara folded her arms.
"And if I do?"
Alessandro's gaze sharpened.
"Don't."
She held his eyes.
For a moment neither moved.
Then she asked the question that had been waiting behind everything else.
"Why does someone want me dead?"
Silence settled over the room.
Dante looked toward the fire.
Luca's expression changed.
Alessandro finally said, "We don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"We know someone has been asking about you."
"Who?"
"We're trying to find out."
Elara stood.
"Then find them."
She walked toward the door.
Alessandro didn't stop her.
Behind her, Luca spoke.
"You're going to break the rules."
She turned.
He was smiling slightly.
"Which one should I start with?"
"The one that gets you into the most trouble."
"That's a long list."
"I know."
He rose.
Then he left.
Elara watched him disappear.
Dante followed.
Alessandro remained for another moment.
"You should rest."
"I'll decide what I should do."
His mouth tightened.
"Apparently you will."
Then he left too.
Elara waited until the door closed.
She looked around the room.
The house was beautiful.
The men were powerful.
The gates were locked.
And every answer she had received had created two more questions.
She walked toward the hallway.
If they wanted her to stay inside, they should have realized one thing first.
Elara had never been good at following rules she didn't understand.
The estate was quieter after midnight.
Elara moved through the upper corridor barefoot, having abandoned the shoes she'd worn earlier. The carpet softened her steps.
She had already discovered the dining room, two sitting rooms, a conservatory, and a staircase leading to the east wing.
The east wing was locked.
Naturally, that was where she wanted to go.
Portraits lined the walls.
She stopped beneath one showing the Moretti family three generations earlier.
There was no Vesperi name.
No mention of her father.
Nothing.
Elara moved farther down the corridor.
A tall wooden door stood at the end.
Its lock was newer than the rest.
She reached toward it.
"Looking for something?"
She turned.
Alessandro stood several steps behind her.
He had removed his jacket. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, and without the formal coat, he looked less like an untouchable heir and more like a man who had been awake too long.
Elara folded her arms.
"I was looking for the library."
"You're on the wrong side of the house."
"Then why is there a locked door?"
"Because it's locked."
"You have a remarkable talent for answering questions without answering them."
A faint tension appeared around his eyes.
"You have a remarkable talent for ignoring instructions."
"I wasn't told this corridor existed."
"You weren't supposed to know."
Elara glanced at the door.
"What are you hiding?"
"Nothing that concerns you."
"Then why are you blocking me?"
Alessandro stepped closer.
He was tall enough that Elara had to lift her chin slightly to keep looking at him.
"Because I said so."
She didn't move.
Neither did he.
The space between them seemed suddenly smaller.
Elara became aware of his clean, faintly woody scent. She disliked noticing it.
Alessandro noticed the change in her expression.
He stepped back.
The tension broke.
"You're angry," he said.
"I'm trapped."
"There's a difference."
"Not from where I'm standing."
His eyes held hers.
For the first time, something beneath his controlled exterior showed.
Regret.
Perhaps.
Or concern.
She couldn't tell.
"What are you afraid I'll find?"
"Elara."
"What did my father do?"
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
"I knew Matteo."
Her breath caught.
"You knew him well?"
A pause.
"Well enough."
"Then tell me why he was afraid of Bellacorte."
"I can't."
"Can't?"
"Not yet."
She stared at him.
"You expect me to trust you after kidnapping me?"
"No."
His answer surprised her.
"I expect you to survive long enough to decide whether you can."
Elara had no reply.
She turned away.
"Good night, Alessandro."
She walked back toward the stairs.
He remained where he was.
Neither noticed Luca standing at the opposite end of the corridor.
He had heard every word.
Luca's usual smile was gone.