Chapter 7 - The Secret Her Father Left Behind
Paolo wanted to be found.
That was the only conclusion that made sense.
“He looked directly at the camera twice,” Elena said.
They had returned to Luca's villa before noon.
“He knew we'd see him.”
Luca stood in front of a large digital map.
“Which means he's directing us.”
“Or trapping us.”
“Probably both.”
Elena sat at the conference table with the black notebook open before her.
Dario had copied every page.
The original was now locked in a safe.
Elena studied the shipping entries.
Each contained numbers that meant nothing to her.
Milan.
Verona.
Rome.
Istanbul.
Geneva.
Dates.
Weights.
Initials.
One set of letters repeated frequently.
YS.
“Yusuf Santi?” Elena asked.
Luca glanced over.
“My father was Yusuf Demir.”
“Oh.”
She looked again.
“Then YD should be your father.”
“It is.”
“YS?”
Luca sat opposite her.
“No idea.”
Elena pointed to another pattern.
“GR is my father.”
“Yes.”
“VS is Vittorio.”
“Yes.”
“And LC?”
“Possibly a company.”
“Or a person.”
“Could be.”
Elena looked up.
“Who was closest to your father?”
Luca hesitated.
“My uncle Kemal.”
“Initials don't match.”
“No.”
“Your mother?”
His expression closed instantly.
Elena noticed.
“You don't have to answer.”
“Leyla Cem.”
Elena looked at the page.
LC.
“Your mother.”
“Yes.”
“She was involved?”
“I don't know.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
Elena felt guilty.
“I'm sorry.”
Luca gave a small nod.
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
The room became quiet.
Elena thought of her father.
“Both of our parents died in car accidents.”
“Yes.”
“You don't think that's strange?”
“I didn't.”
“But now?”
Luca looked toward the shipping records.
“Now I think very little about the past was accidental.”
Dario entered.
“We found Paolo.”
Elena stood.
“Where?”
“Lake Como.”
Luca looked unsurprised.
“Where exactly?”
“Villa near Bellagio. Property belongs to a shell company.”
“Santi?”
“No.”
Dario paused.
“Your mother.”
Luca's face changed.
“My mother died fifteen years ago.”
“Company remained active.”
“Who controls it?”
“We're working on that.”
Elena looked between them.
“Paolo is staying in a house owned by Luca's dead mother.”
Nobody answered.
That evening they drove north.
Lake Como appeared beneath darkening skies.
Luca sat beside Elena in silence.
She sensed tension in him she had never seen before.
“Did your mother know my father?”
“Yes.”
“Well?”
“Very.”
Elena waited.
Luca continued.
“My mother disliked most people associated with my father.”
“That seems sensible.”
“She liked Giovanni.”
“Why?”
“He made her laugh.”
Elena smiled faintly.
“My father could be funny.”
“I remember.”
“You remember him?”
“Clearly.”
“How old were you when he disappeared?”
“Nineteen.”
“Did you miss him?”
Luca looked surprised.
“Yes.”
That answer changed something.
Giovanni had not been merely an employee.
He had mattered to Luca's family.
The villa near Bellagio sat above the lake surrounded by cypress trees.
No guards.
No cars.
The front door stood open.
Luca went in first.
Elena followed despite his look.
He did not stop her.
Progress.
The house smelled abandoned.
Dust covered the furniture.
A single lamp burned in the dining room.
On the table sat three glasses.
A bottle of wine.
And Paolo.
Older than Elena remembered.
Gray at his temples.
Tired eyes.
He raised his hands.
“I'm unarmed.”
Luca said, “That would be a foolish assumption for me to make.”
Paolo smiled weakly.
“You sound exactly like Yusuf.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Don't.”
Paolo looked at Elena.
“You grew up.”
She almost laughed at the absurdity.
“You disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“You stole from the locker.”
“Yes.”
“You burned my father's shop.”
Paolo's face changed.
“I burned an empty building before Santi's men could search it.”
“My father's letter was inside.”
“I didn't know.”
Elena's anger rose.
“That's convenient.”
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve more than that.”
“Yes.”
Paolo gestured toward the table.
“Sit.”
Nobody moved.
Paolo sighed.
“Then stand.”
He placed the black envelope on the table.
“Elena, your father didn't trust me when he died.”
“You were his best friend.”
“That was why he didn't trust me.”
She frowned.
“Explain.”
“I worked for Santi.”
Luca's eyes narrowed.
Paolo raised a hand.
“Not willingly at first.”
“No one ever works for men like Santi willingly,” Elena said bitterly.
“Some do.”
He looked ashamed.
“I did eventually.”
Elena's stomach tightened.
“For money?”
“For fear.”
“That isn't better.”
“I know.”
Paolo opened the envelope.
Inside was another ledger.
Several photographs.
And a cassette tape.
“Giovanni discovered the theft fifteen years ago. He asked me to help him copy records.”
“So you did?”
“Yes.”
“Then betrayed him.”
Paolo looked at her.
“Yes.”
The word struck like a slap.
“You told Santi?”
“I told one of Santi's people where Giovanni was going.”
“Verona.”
“Yes.”
Luca's hand tightened.
“You caused the explosion.”
“No. I thought they would frighten him.”
“Two men died.”
“I know.”
Paolo looked destroyed by the memory.
“I've lived with it every day.”
Elena didn't care.
“What happened afterward?”
“Giovanni escaped. Yusuf discovered there was a traitor. I ran.”
“Why didn't Santi kill you?”
“Because I became useful.”
“What about my father's death?”
Paolo looked away.
Elena's heart began pounding.
“Paolo.”
“I don't know.”
“Look at me.”
He did.
“Did Santi kill my father?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you help?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly?
Elena couldn't tell anymore.
Paolo pushed the ledger toward her.
“This is my part.”
“Why give it now?”
“Because Santi knows you found Giovanni's part.”
“How?”
Paolo looked toward Luca.
“Someone inside Luca's organization is feeding him information.”
Luca showed no reaction.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Convenient.”
Paolo nodded.
“Yes.”
Elena picked up one photograph.
It showed Yusuf Demir.
Giovanni Rossi.
Leyla Cem Demir.
And Vittorio Santi.
All four stood outside the villa.
A fifth figure had been cut from the photograph.
Only one shoulder remained.
“Who was that?”
Paolo's expression changed.
“That's the reason Giovanni died.”
Elena's breath caught.
“Who?”
Paolo looked at Luca.
“Your uncle.”
Luca's eyes hardened.
“Kemal?”
Paolo nodded.
“Kemal Demir was not merely involved.”
He poured himself a glass of wine with shaking hands.
“He built the entire operation with Santi.”
Luca remained motionless.
“No.”
“I have proof.”
“Where?”
Paolo pointed toward the cassette.
“Your mother recorded them.”
Luca stared at the tape.
Paolo continued.
“Leyla discovered what Kemal and Santi were doing. She told Giovanni. Giovanni started copying records. Yusuf tried to stop his brother quietly.”
“And my mother?” Luca asked.
Paolo looked at him with something close to pity.
“She planned to take you and leave Milan.”
Luca's face lost color.
Elena looked between them.
“What happened?”
Paolo's voice dropped.
“Three days before she was supposed to leave, her car went off a mountain road.”
Silence filled the room.
Luca walked toward Paolo slowly.
“You are accusing my uncle of murdering my mother.”
Paolo stood.
“I am telling you why Giovanni spent fifteen years hiding evidence.”
Luca stopped inches from him.
“Be certain.”
“I am.”
“Because if you're lying—”
“Luca.”
Elena touched his arm.
He looked at her hand.
Then her face.
His anger remained.
But he stepped back.
Paolo looked relieved.
Elena picked up the cassette.
“How do we listen?”
“There's an old player upstairs.”
They found it in Leyla's bedroom.
Luca inserted the cassette himself.
Static.
Then a woman's voice.
Calm.
Elegant.
Luca closed his eyes.
His mother's voice said:
“If anything happens to me, Kemal and Vittorio are responsible.”
Elena looked at Luca.
His expression shattered for one second.
Then Leyla continued.
“They are moving objects through Yusuf's routes, but that is not the worst of it. They are using debt contracts to control witnesses and their families.”
Elena stopped breathing.
Debt contracts.
Her father.
Her.
Leyla's voice continued.
“Giovanni has copied the records. I told him to protect Elena before anything else.”
Luca opened his eyes.
The tape clicked.
Then another male voice entered.
Kemal.
“You think Yusuf will choose you over his brother?”
Leyla answered.
“I think my husband already has.”
A sound.
A door.
Then the recording ended.
Luca stood completely still.
Elena reached for him.
Before she touched him, Dario shouted from downstairs.
“Luca!”
A gunshot shattered the window.
Glass exploded across the room.
Luca pulled Elena down.
Another shot struck the wall.
Men shouted outside.
Paolo yelled from below.
“They found us!”
Luca covered Elena with his body.
She felt his heart pounding against hers.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
He looked into her eyes.
“Stay behind me.”
Elena whispered, “You promised to learn.”
His mouth tightened.
“Tonight I'm learning badly.”
Despite the danger, she almost laughed.
Then another window shattered.
Dario returned fire toward the trees.
Luca pulled Elena toward the hallway.
They reached the stairs.
Paolo was waiting.
He held the black envelope.
“Back exit.”
They moved through the kitchen.
Outside, headlights appeared between the trees.
Two vehicles.
More men.
Dario shouted, “Boat!”
They ran toward the lake.
A small motorboat waited at the dock.
Elena climbed in.
Luca followed.
Paolo reached the edge.
Then stopped.
“What are you doing?” Elena shouted.
Paolo looked toward the villa.
“Fixing one mistake.”
“No!”
He handed the black envelope to Luca.
“Get her out.”
Luca grabbed his arm.
“Come with us.”
Paolo shook his head.
“If Santi thinks I still have the ledger, he'll follow me.”
“You'll die.”
Paolo looked at Elena.
“I've been afraid of that for fifteen years.”
He smiled sadly.
“I'm more afraid she'll spend another day paying for what we did.”
Then he pulled free.
The boat accelerated.
Elena watched Paolo disappear into darkness.
Minutes later, flames rose from the villa.
She didn't know whether he escaped.
She didn't know whether Santi's men found him.
She knew only that Luca was staring back at the burning house with tears he refused to let fall.
And inside the envelope resting between them was proof that the most dangerous enemy Luca had ever faced was not Vittorio Santi.
May you like
It was his own family.
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