Chapter 3 - “Uncle Al… That Man Took My Mommy”
Aleandro did not interrogate Daniel Vieri in the basement.
His father would have.
His grandfather certainly would have.
Aleandro took him to the library instead.
That decision confused everyone.
Especially Daniel.
The library was one of the mansion’s least-used rooms. Morning light spilled through high windows onto shelves filled with books nobody had opened in years.
Marco remained beside the door.
Aleandro sat opposite Daniel.
“Start talking.”
Daniel rubbed his wrists.
“I was hired six months ago.”
“By Vittorio.”
“Yes.”
“For security audits.”
“That was the paperwork.”
“And the real job?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Watching your transportation network.”
Marco swore quietly.
Aleandro’s face did not change.
“For whom?”
“I never met him.”
“Then how did you receive instructions?”
“Encrypted messages. Payments through a consulting firm.”
“Name.”
“Northstar Logistics.”
Aleandro knew it immediately.
Northstar appeared twice in the western warehouse ledger.
“How does Elena fit into this?”
Daniel leaned forward.
“She saw something she wasn’t supposed to see.”
“What?”
“Documents.”
“What documents?”
“Shipment manifests. Account transfers. Names.”
“Whose names?”
“I don’t know all of them.”
Aleandro’s patience thinned.
“You seem to know very little for a man who walked my employee out of my home at midnight.”
Daniel stared at him.
“I walked her out because she begged me to.”
Silence.
Marco laughed without humor.
“You expect us to believe that?”
“Elena came to me two days ago. She knew I was connected to Northstar.”
“Why would she trust you?”
“She didn’t.”
Daniel looked at Aleandro.
“She threatened me.”
That was not the Elena Aleandro knew.
Daniel saw the disbelief.
“She said if I didn’t help her, she would send everything she found directly to you.”
“What did she find?”
“That someone is stealing from you.”
Aleandro glanced at the ledgers on the side table.
“I noticed.”
“It’s more than money.”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Someone is preparing to make it look like you stole from your own companies.”
Marco stiffened.
Daniel continued.
“They’re creating transactions in your name. Using your codes. Your approvals. When it’s finished, regulators, competitors, maybe even law enforcement will see you at the center.”
“A financial trap,” Aleandro said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To weaken you.”
“For what?”
Daniel looked toward the door.
“To replace you.”
That answer sat in the room for several seconds.
Aleandro finally asked, “Where is Elena?”
“I don’t know.”
Marco moved.
Aleandro raised one hand.
Daniel said quickly, “I was supposed to take her to a safe apartment.”
“Where?”
“Twenty-third Street.”
“And?”
“Two vehicles followed us.”
“Who?”
“I couldn’t identify them.”
“What happened?”
“Elena saw them first. She told me not to go to the apartment.”
“Where did you go?”
“South station.”
Daniel swallowed.
“She got out.”
“You let a terrified woman leave alone?”
“She made me.”
Nobody made Daniel Vieri do anything.
Aleandro could see that immediately.
“What did she say?”
Daniel looked toward the window.
“She said, ‘If they’re following you, they know you helped me. Go back. Let them think you still work for them.’”
“And you obeyed?”
“I have a sister.”
Something changed in his voice.
“They sent me photographs of her house two months ago. I understood the message.”
Aleandro leaned back.
“Why return here this morning?”
“Because I received instructions.”
“From Northstar?”
“Yes.”
“To do what?”
“Watch the mansion.”
Marco’s hand tightened.
Daniel met Aleandro’s eyes.
“They wanted to know when you realized Elena was gone.”
Aleandro felt the trap becoming visible.
Someone was not simply hiding from him.
Someone was studying his reactions.
“Did you report?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena has a daughter.”
Daniel glanced toward the corridor.
“I saw the little girl through the window.”
Aleandro said nothing.
A knock came.
Rosa entered carrying Mia’s rabbit.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Aleandro frowned.
“What is it?”
Rosa looked embarrassed.
“Mia says Bunny is sick.”
Marco stared at her.
Rosa continued, “Normally I wouldn’t bother you, but Mia won’t let anyone touch it except you.”
Aleandro looked toward Daniel.
Then at the rabbit.
“Why me?”
Rosa gave him the faintest smile.
“She says Uncle Al knows how to fix important things.”
Aleandro did not know whether to be irritated or strangely moved.
“Bring her.”
Mia entered a moment later.
She walked directly to Aleandro.
“Bunny has a lump.”
Aleandro looked at the toy.
“A lump.”
“Here.”
She pointed at the belly.
The stitching caught his eye again.
Three crooked stitches.
New thread against old fabric.
“Did your mother sew this?”
Mia nodded.
“Last night.”
Daniel suddenly stood.
Marco immediately pushed him back into his chair.
“What?” Aleandro asked.
Daniel stared at the rabbit.
“Elena told me she had made a backup.”
The room changed.
Aleandro took Bunny carefully.
Mia protested.
“Don’t hurt him.”
“I won’t.”
He examined the seam.
“Elena sew often?”
Rosa answered.
“Only when Bunny tears.”
“Was it torn yesterday?”
Rosa frowned.
“No.”
Aleandro looked at Marco.
“Get scissors.”
Mia grabbed his sleeve.
“No!”
He lowered his voice.
“I’ll sew him back.”
“You know sewing?”
“No.”
“Then Rosa does it.”
“Deal.”
Rosa produced tiny sewing scissors from her apron.
Aleandro cut the newest stitches.
His fingers pushed aside the stuffing.
Something hard rested inside.
He pulled out a folded piece of cloth.
Inside it was a microSD card.
Nobody spoke.
Aleandro placed the card on the table.
Mia looked disappointed.
“That was in Bunny?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Aleandro looked at her.
“Your mother wanted us to find it.”
“Will it tell you where Mommy is?”
“I hope so.”
Marco brought a secured laptop.
The card contained seventeen files.
Photographs.
Scanned ledgers.
Audio clips.
Security schedules.
And one video recorded by Elena herself.
Aleandro opened it.
Elena appeared on-screen.
Her hair was loose.
She was sitting in the servants’ quarters.
The recording time showed 9:14 p.m. the previous evening.
“If you’re watching this,” Elena said quietly, “then something has gone wrong.”
Mia moved toward the screen.
“Mommy.”
Aleandro’s chest tightened.
Elena continued.
“I don’t know who I can trust. I’m sorry, Mr. Moretti. I should have come to you sooner.”
She looked away from the camera.
“I found documents in the west guest room three weeks ago. At first I thought they were ordinary business papers. Then I saw your name.”
A photograph appeared.
Aleandro recognized his signature.
It looked perfect.
He had never signed the document.
Elena continued.
“There are transfers being authorized using your name. I heard two men say they were preparing for ‘the transition.’”
Marco looked at Aleandro.
Elena lowered her voice.
“One of them said the transition would happen after the Moretti accounts were frozen.”
Aleandro felt the outline of the plan.
Destroy his financial control.
Turn his own organization against him.
Take what remained.
Then Elena said the sentence that changed everything.
“I recognized one of the voices.”
The video froze momentarily.
Then resumed.
“He comes to the mansion every Sunday.”
Aleandro leaned closer.
“He has eaten at your table.”
A noise sounded behind Elena in the recording.
She turned suddenly.
The video ended.
Marco immediately opened the next file.
A photograph filled the screen.
Taken through a partially open door.
Two men stood beside a table covered with documents.
One was Daniel Vieri.
The other man’s face was turned away.
But his right hand rested on the table.
A distinctive gold ring covered his smallest finger.
Black stone.
Silver crest.
Aleandro knew that ring.
Every Moretti family adviser had been given one twenty-five years earlier.
Only three were still alive.
Marco looked pale.
Daniel whispered, “Now you understand.”
Aleandro stared at the ring.
One of the remaining owners was Marco.
One was Aleandro himself.
And the third belonged to Vittorio Greco.
The family attorney.
The man who had helped Aleandro bury his father.
The man who knew every account.
Every secret.
Every weakness.
Aleandro closed the laptop.
“Confirm Vittorio’s location.”
Marco took out his phone.
Two minutes later, he looked up.
“The man at the Chicago hotel isn’t Vittorio.”
“Who is he?”
“A driver using Vittorio’s identification.”
Aleandro slowly stood.
“Where is Vittorio?”
Nobody answered.
Then Aleandro remembered something.
Every Sunday, Vittorio ate lunch at the mansion.
And every Sunday after lunch, he spent exactly twenty minutes alone in the family chapel.
For nineteen years, Aleandro had assumed the old lawyer went there to pray.
Now he wondered what else was beneath that chapel.
May you like
And whether Elena Rossi had disappeared because she had discovered it first.
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