Chapter 14 - The Man Who Sold Her Future
Marco did not deny being in the car.
That hurt more than any lie could have.
He sat across from Elena inside an interview room at the prosecutor's office.
His wrists were not restrained.
Luca waited outside because Elena had asked to speak to Marco alone.
She needed to know whether the man who had helped her after her father's death had also helped cause it.
Marco looked older than he had a week earlier.
“Elena.”
“Don't.”
He lowered his eyes.
“You were with him.”
“Yes.”
“The night he died.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was afraid.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“I know.”
“I'm tired of fear being used as an excuse.”
Marco looked at her.
“It isn't an excuse.”
“Then explain.”
He inhaled slowly.
“Giovanni called me that night.”
“You knew him before I started working with you?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since I was eighteen.”
Elena's jaw tightened.
“You pretended not to.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Giovanni asked me to.”
“He was dead.”
“I made him a promise.”
“And you kept that promise while lying to me for five years?”
Marco looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
Elena looked through the glass wall.
Luca stood outside.
He could not hear.
Good.
This belonged to her.
“What happened in the car?”
“Giovanni picked me up.”
“Why?”
“He wanted help.”
“With?”
“Taking the final bank records to a journalist.”
Elena blinked.
“What journalist?”
“A woman named Francesca Leone.”
“Did he meet her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Marco's hands tightened.
“Someone followed us.”
“Santi?”
“I didn't know then.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Elena's pulse quickened.
“Continue.”
“We were outside Milan. Giovanni noticed the car behind us.”
Marco looked down.
“He panicked.”
“What happened?”
“He told me there was a recorder beneath the seat.”
“The one investigators found.”
“Yes.”
“He said if anything happened, I needed to get it to you.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because we crashed.”
Elena swallowed.
“Who caused it?”
“The other car hit us.”
“So my father didn't fall asleep.”
“No.”
“Did he die immediately?”
Marco's silence answered.
Elena felt sick.
“He was alive.”
“For several minutes.”
Her eyes burned.
“What did he say?”
Marco looked at her.
“He asked about you.”
Elena covered her mouth.
“He kept saying your name.”
She fought tears.
“What else?”
“He told me where the recorder was.”
“And?”
“He told me not to let Santi find you.”
“You did a terrible job.”
“I know.”
“What happened next?”
“I climbed out.”
“And my father?”
“I tried.”
Marco's voice broke.
“The door was crushed. Smoke was everywhere.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“He told me to run.”
“So you did.”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“I returned later.”
“To get the recorder?”
“Yes.”
“But Santi had arrived first?”
“No.”
Elena opened her eyes.
“Who?”
Marco looked terrified even now.
“Kemal.”
Of course.
“Kemal took the recorder?”
“No.”
“What did he take?”
“A folder from Giovanni's coat.”
“What was inside?”
“I don't know.”
“Did Kemal kill my father?”
Marco shook his head.
“No.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then Santi?”
“I never saw Santi.”
Elena frowned.
“Who drove the car that hit you?”
“I couldn't see.”
“Why did Santi's company store the wreck?”
“Because he arrived afterward.”
“So Santi knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why let everyone believe it was an accident?”
“Because everyone benefited from silence.”
That sentence seemed to summarize Elena's entire life.
Everyone benefited from silence except the victims.
“Why did you help me afterward?”
Marco looked stunned.
“Because I loved Giovanni.”
“Then why lie?”
“Because I failed him.”
There it was.
Not fear.
Shame.
The same poison that had destroyed her father.
Marco continued.
“I couldn't save him. I couldn't bring you the recorder. Then Santi found me.”
“And threatened your sister.”
“Years later.”
“Why did you give me jobs?”
“Because your father asked me to look after you if anything happened.”
Elena laughed bitterly.
“So you spent five years helping me pay the debt created by the people who killed my parents.”
Marco's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“That is unbelievably stupid.”
“Yes.”
She stood.
Marco looked at her.
“Will you ever forgive me?”
Elena stopped at the door.
“I don't know.”
His face fell.
“But I understand you more than I did ten minutes ago.”
That was all she could give.
For now.
Outside, Luca stood when she emerged.
He did not ask whether she was okay.
He had learned.
Instead he said, “Do you want coffee?”
Elena almost cried again.
“Yes.”
They walked outside.
Autumn sunlight warmed the street.
Luca bought two coffees from a kiosk.
They sat on a bench.
“My father suffered,” Elena said.
Luca's jaw tightened.
“For several minutes.”
He took her hand.
She let him.
“But he was thinking about me.”
“Yes.”
“I spent years believing he died drunk.”
Luca said nothing.
“I hated him for leaving me with that debt.”
“You had reasons.”
“I know.”
“That doesn't make grief simple.”
“No.”
They sat quietly.
Then Elena's phone rang.
Sofia Bellini.
“Elena, I need you at the office.”
“Why?”
“We found the original trust documents.”
“That sounds good.”
“It isn't.”
Elena's stomach tightened.
“What?”
“The Bellarosa ownership transfer requires two signatures before you can dissolve the company.”
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
“And?”
Sofia hesitated.
“Giovanni's designated co-trustee.”
“Who?”
“Luca Demir.”
Elena looked at him.
He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
She put the call on speaker.
Sofia continued.
“Luca became co-trustee automatically after Yusuf died.”
Luca frowned.
“I never knew.”
“Neither did anyone else apparently.”
Elena asked, “So Luca and I can dissolve Bellarosa together?”
“Yes.”
Relief appeared.
Then Sofia said, “But there's another problem.”
“Of course there is.”
“The company owns collateral attached to thousands of loans.”
“What kind of collateral?”
“Property.”
Elena's relief vanished.
“Homes?”
“Some.”
“Businesses?”
“Yes.”
“Can we return them?”
“Potentially.”
“Then do it.”
Sofia exhaled.
“Elena, Bellarosa is worth hundreds of millions.”
“I don't care.”
Luca looked at her.
Sofia continued.
“If you dissolve it and forgive the illegal debt, you may also lose the legal assets.”
“Good.”
“Think about this.”
“I have.”
“For ten seconds.”
“For five years.”
Silence.
Elena's voice hardened.
“I know what it feels like to wake up afraid because someone owns a piece of your future.”
Luca's eyes remained on her.
“I will not become the woman profiting from that.”
Sofia sighed.
“I expected that answer.”
“Then why argue?”
“Professional obligation.”
Elena smiled.
“Prepare the papers.”
“I will.”
The call ended.
Luca looked at her.
“What?”
“You just walked away from perhaps two hundred million euros.”
“I didn't have it yesterday.”
“You have it today.”
“Not for long.”
He smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. Say it.”
“You're extraordinary.”
Elena felt herself blush.
“Stop.”
“I thought you enjoyed compliments.”
“Not from you.”
“That seems unfair.”
She looked at him.
The first time another man had complimented her, Luca had kissed her in front of everyone.
Now a simple sentence from him felt more intimate.
She leaned closer.
“Kiss me.”
He did.
No jealousy.
No audience.
No claim.
Just choice.
When they separated, Luca's phone rang.
Dario.
He answered.
His face changed.
“When?”
Elena watched.
“What happened?”
Luca put down the phone.
“Kemal escaped transport.”
Her happiness vanished.
“How?”
“Ambush.”
“Where is he?”
“We don't know.”
Elena immediately understood.
“What does he want?”
Luca looked toward the city.
“The ledgers.”
“And us.”
“Yes.”
Her phone vibrated.
A new message.
No number.
Only a photograph.
It showed Luca's villa from outside the gates.
Beneath it:
YOU TOOK MY FAMILY.
NOW I TAKE YOURS.
Elena looked at Luca.
He read it.
Then his eyes met hers.
Kemal had finally understood exactly what Elena meant to Luca.
And unlike the men at the rooftop gala, he wasn't jealous.
May you like
He was hunting.
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