CHAPTER 4
"Your mother."
Dante's words seemed to remain in the library after he stopped speaking.
Elara stared at him.
"My mother?"
Dante gave a slow nod.
The others said nothing.
That silence told her more than an answer would have.
Elara turned toward Alessandro.
"You knew her."
"We knew of her."
Her eyes narrowed.
"That's not the same thing."
"No," Dante said quietly. "It isn't."
Elara looked at Luca.
"And you?"
Luca lowered his gaze to the newspaper clipping still lying on the desk.
"I've seen her name."
"Where?"
"In old records."
"What records?"
"Family records. Business documents. Some private correspondence."
Her heart tightened.
"Why was she there?"
No one answered.
Elara pressed both hands against the desk.
"My mother died when I was little. My father never spoke about her. I barely remember her."
She closed her eyes.
A faint memory surfaced.
A woman's perfume.
Something soft and floral.
A warm hand smoothing her hair.
A voice humming near her bed.
Elara opened her eyes again.
"There was a silver pendant."
Luca looked at her.
"What?"
"My mother wore one. A little oval pendant." She touched her throat. "I remember holding it when I was a child."
Dante exchanged a glance with Alessandro.
Elara noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing," Alessandro said.
"Don't."
His brows drew together.
"Don't what?"
"Do that."
"Do what?"
"Look at each other as if I'm not here."
Alessandro's expression hardened.
"We're trying to protect you."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
"Then tell me the truth."
Her voice cracked.
Nobody moved.
Elara hated that.
She had spent years believing her father's silence came from grief. Now she wondered whether every quiet moment of her childhood had been built around a secret.
"Did my father erase her from his life?"
Luca answered carefully.
"Perhaps he was trying to erase her from theirs."
Elara looked at him.
"Their?"
"The families."
A chill moved through her.
"Why?"
Luca hesitated.
"I don't know."
"Then find out."
"I am."
"How long?"
He looked away.
"Years."
The admission stunned her.
"You've been investigating my family for years?"
"Your father's death raised questions."
"Questions you never thought to bring to me?"
"We didn't know where you were."
"You knew who I was."
"Yes."
"Then you could have found me."
Luca's face tightened.
"We could have."
Elara looked between the three men.
"You all knew more about my life than I did."
Dante stepped forward.
"Elara—"
"No."
She picked up the photograph.
Her father's young face stared back at her.
"I am done waiting for people to decide what I can handle."
She walked toward the door.
Luca watched her go.
Dante turned toward Alessandro.
"Should we stop her?"
Alessandro's gaze remained fixed on the doorway.
"No."
Dante frowned.
"She's angry."
"She has every right to be."
"And if she finds something?"
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
"Then we'll deal with it."
Dante studied him.
"You're changing."
Alessandro finally looked at him.
"No."
His voice was quiet.
"I'm choosing."
Elara was already halfway down the corridor.
She did not hear him.
She only knew one thing.
If her mother had been part of Bellacorte's hidden history, Elara intended to discover why.
And she would not wait for permission.
Elara reached the main entrance before anyone could stop her.
The front doors opened.
Cold night air swept across her face.
She crossed the stone steps and headed for the gates.
A guard stepped forward.
"Miss Vesperi."
"Move."
"I'm sorry."
"I need to leave."
"I can't allow that."
Elara stopped.
"Why?"
The guard looked uncomfortable.
"Mr. Moretti's instructions."
"Then tell Mr. Moretti to come and tell me himself."
A voice came from behind her.
"I heard."
Elara turned.
Alessandro stood several yards away.
His jacket was gone. His dark shirt was open at the collar, and his expression was as controlled as ever.
She hated how calm he looked.
"You said I could investigate."
"I did."
"My father's house is part of the investigation."
"I know."
"Then let me go."
"No."
Her anger rose.
"You don't get to keep changing the rules."
"The circumstances changed."
"They always change when I ask for freedom."
Alessandro approached.
"Someone entered the estate tonight."
"Then find that person."
"We're trying."
"While I'm locked inside?"
"You're safer here."
"That's your favorite answer."
His eyes narrowed.
"Because it's true."
Elara stepped closer.
"You're using protection as an excuse to control me."
He didn't deny it.
That surprised her.
Instead, he said, "Perhaps."
She blinked.
Alessandro stopped in front of her.
"I've spent most of my life believing that if I controlled every variable, I could prevent disaster."
"And?"
"I was wrong."
His voice had dropped.
Elara studied his face.
There were shadows beneath his eyes.
He looked exhausted.
"You don't have to be afraid of me," he said.
"I'm not."
"Good."
"Then stop giving me reasons to be."
Something shifted in his expression.
He stepped aside.
Elara looked toward the gate.
For one brief moment, she thought he was actually going to let her pass.
Then a guard hurried across the courtyard.
"Sir."
Alessandro turned.
"What?"
"We found something near the eastern wall."
"What?"
"A vehicle."
Dante appeared behind them.
"Whose?"
"We don't know."
Luca followed, already reaching for his phone.
Alessandro looked at Elara.
"Stay here."
She shook her head.
"No."
"Elara."
"I'm coming."
"This isn't a discussion."
"It became one when you told me I could investigate."
Dante gave a short breath that might have been a laugh.
Alessandro glanced at him.
Dante raised both hands.
"I didn't say anything."
Alessandro looked back at Elara.
She held his stare.
Finally, he nodded.
"Stay beside me."
"I can do that."
They crossed the grounds together.
The eastern wall stood beyond a line of cypress trees.
A dark vehicle waited outside it.
One door hung open.
The engine was cold.
And something about the scene made even Dante slow his steps.
The vehicle sat crooked beside the road.
One front tire rested against the curb.
The driver's door remained open.
Dante reached it first.
He looked inside.
His expression changed.
"He's dead."
Elara stopped.
Alessandro immediately moved in front of her.
"Don't look."
"I need to know."
"No."
"Alessandro."
He looked back at her.
She could see the answer in his face.
The driver was dead.
She turned away.
Dante searched the vehicle while Luca examined the area around it.
"No identification," Dante said.
Luca opened the passenger compartment.
"Nothing useful here."
He checked beneath the seats.
A phone.
He picked it up.
"Locked."
Alessandro looked toward the road.
"Any sign of where he came from?"
Luca shook his head.
"Not yet."
Elara stood near the wall.
The cold wind lifted her hair.
Something about the vehicle bothered her.
"Wait."
The men looked at her.
She pointed.
"That."
Luca followed her gaze.
A photograph lay partly beneath the passenger seat.
He retrieved it.
Then his expression went still.
"What?"
He handed it to Alessandro.
Alessandro looked at the image.
His face hardened.
Elara reached for it.
He gave it to her.
Her stomach dropped.
It was her.
She was standing outside the cemetery on the day of her father's funeral.
The photograph had been taken from a distance.
She could see the same black coat.
The same handbag.
The same expression she had worn while staring at her father's grave.
"This was before you took me," she whispered.
"Yes," Luca said.
Elara looked at him.
"How long have they been watching me?"
"We don't know."
"They knew where I lived."
No one answered.
"They knew when I went to the cemetery."
Still nothing.
Her fingers tightened around the photograph.
"So this wasn't about my father's debt."
Alessandro's eyes met hers.
"We never said it was."
"That's worse."
Dante looked toward the road.
"Everyone back inside."
Elara shook her head.
"Whoever did this already knows where I am."
Alessandro's gaze hardened.
"Exactly."
She looked at him.
"Are you afraid?"
His expression didn't change.
"No."
She noticed his hand.
His fingers had tightened into a fist.
She reached for it.
Alessandro looked down.
Her hand rested over his.
For a moment, neither spoke.
She expected him to pull away.
He didn't.
Instead, his fingers closed gently around hers.
Not possession.
Reassurance.
The simple gesture affected her more than it should have.
Then Luca turned the photograph over.
His face changed.
"What?"
He stared at the writing on the back.
Dante moved closer.
"What does it say?"
Luca read it aloud.
"She must never remember."
Elara's breath caught.
The words seemed colder than the night air.
"Remember what?"
Nobody knew.
Or nobody was willing to say.
She looked at Alessandro.
He was staring at the photograph as if it had confirmed something he had spent years trying not to believe.
"Take it inside," he said.
Elara didn't move.
"Why?"
His eyes met hers.
"Because I think someone has been waiting for you to remember."
The security room became the center of the estate within minutes.
Monitors filled one wall.
Guards moved between screens.
The photograph lay beneath a bright lamp.
Elara stood across from the three men.
"She must never remember."
She repeated the words slowly.
"What am I supposed to remember?"
Luca studied the photograph.
"We don't know."
"Then why does everyone look frightened?"
Dante crossed his arms.
"We're not frightened."
Elara gave him a sharp look.
"You are."
He didn't answer.
She turned to Luca.
"Have I ever told you about my childhood?"
"Not much."
"Because there isn't much to tell."
She closed her eyes.
Then frowned.
"Wait."
Alessandro noticed.
"What?"
"I remember something."
Everyone went still.
Elara pressed her fingers against her temple.
"A room."
"What room?" Luca asked.
"I don't know."
She breathed slowly.
"Dark curtains. A wooden table."
Her voice became quieter.
"My mother was there."
Dante looked at Alessandro.
Elara continued.
"She told me to stay underneath the table."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
She swallowed.
"There was a man."
"What man?"
"I couldn't see his face."
The memory came in fragments.
Her mother's voice.
A man's angry tone.
Her father's footsteps.
A door slamming.
Then words.
"I remember what he said."
"What?"
Elara opened her eyes.
"If she remembers the house, we're finished."
Silence.
Luca's face had gone pale.
Dante looked toward the floor.
Alessandro moved toward Elara.
She stepped back instinctively.
He stopped.
He didn't reach for her.
Instead, he waited.
Elara's breathing was uneven.
"I don't know what that means."
"You don't have to know yet."
She looked at him.
He came one step closer.
"You're here."
Her eyes burned.
"I don't know what I remember."
"We'll find out."
"We?"
"Yes."
The word settled between them.
Elara searched his face.
He wasn't giving her an order.
He was making a promise.
She nodded once.
Luca picked up the photograph again.
He examined the corner.
"There."
A tiny symbol had been pressed into the paper.
He took the family seal from the desk and compared them.
Elara moved closer.
"They're the same."
Luca nodded.
Alessandro's expression hardened.
"Where have you seen that symbol?"
Luca looked at him.
"On the old Vesperi records."
Elara's heart began racing again.
"What records?"
Luca hesitated.
"The ones your father left behind."
"Where are they?"
"Somewhere in the east archive."
"Then take me there."
Alessandro looked toward the clock.
"It's late."
"I don't care."
"We'll search tomorrow."
"No."
She looked directly at him.
"You've spent years deciding when I get answers."
Her voice was steady now.
"I'm done waiting."
Alessandro held her gaze.
Then nodded.
"Tomorrow."
Elara turned toward the door.
She stopped.
"One more thing."
The three men looked at her.
"If you find something before I do, don't hide it."
Alessandro answered.
"I won't."
She left.
Luca watched the door close.
Then he looked at the photograph.
"There is something else."
Dante frowned.
"What?"
Luca turned the image over again.
A thin edge of paper showed beneath the photograph backing.
He pulled it free.
His face changed.
"What?"
He handed it to Alessandro.
The note contained one sentence.
Ask what happened the night your father died.
Elara could not sleep.
She sat on the edge of her bed with the photograph in her hands.
The note remained beside her.
Ask what happened the night your father died.
She read it again.
Then again.
Someone knew what questions she was asking.
Someone knew enough about her father to know exactly where to push.
A floorboard creaked outside.
Elara looked toward the door.
Silence.
She stood.
When she opened it, Alessandro, Dante, and Luca were gathered farther down the corridor.
All three looked toward her.
She held up the note.
"What happened?"
Nobody spoke.
Alessandro's eyes settled on the paper.
Elara walked toward him.
"What happened the night my father died?"
His expression changed.
"I was there."
The words struck her.
"What?"
"The night your father died."
Alessandro's voice remained low.
"I saw him."
Elara stared at him.
"When?"
"Shortly before."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know how."
"Try."
He looked away for a moment.
Then back at her.
"Your father was afraid."
"Of whom?"
"I don't know."
"You knew he was in danger."
"Yes."
"And you said nothing."
"I was young."
"You were old enough to know he was frightened."
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
"I was."
Elara stepped closer.
"Then you knew something was wrong."
"Yes."
"And you let me believe he died without anyone knowing what happened."
His eyes hardened with regret.
"I didn't know he was going to die."
"That's not the same as answering me."
"I know."
Her voice shook.
"You don't get to decide which parts of my life I can handle."
Alessandro looked directly into her eyes.
"You're right."
Neither moved.
The anger between them had become something more complicated.
He wanted to protect her.
She wanted the truth.
For the first time, Elara understood that those two things might not always be enemies.
Alessandro seemed about to speak.
Then every light in the estate went out.
Darkness swallowed the corridor.
A gunshot cracked somewhere outside.
Dante moved instantly.
"Stay behind me."
Luca reached for the emergency light.
Alessandro caught Elara by the arm and pulled her behind him.
Another sound came from the eastern wing.
Glass shattered.
Dante drew his weapon.
"Someone's inside."
Luca's emergency light flickered on.
A shadow moved across the far end of the corridor.
Elara held her breath.
Alessandro stepped forward.
"Stay here."
The shadow disappeared.
Then came another crash.
Closer this time.
Elara looked at the three men.
For the first time since she had entered the Moretti estate, they were not arguing about what she should know.
They were preparing to fight for her.
And somewhere beyond the darkness, someone had just entered the house.