Chapter 4 - Rosa's Locked Drawer
Elina backed away from Adrian.
“You said you thought Lucia’s death wasn’t an accident.”
“I do.”
“You didn’t say you had evidence.”
“I didn’t have proof.”
“What did you have?”
Adrian glanced toward his men.
“Leave us.”
They obeyed.
The apartment became silent.
“When Lucia’s car was recovered,” Adrian said, “my mechanic inspected the brake system before police impounded it.”
“And?”
“The line had been cut.”
Elina’s stomach twisted.
“You knew she was murdered.”
“I suspected it.”
“And you did nothing?”
His eyes flashed.
“You think I did nothing?”
“I think six months passed.”
“I spent six months tearing apart my own organization trying to find who touched that car.”
“Carlo?”
“I investigated him.”
“And?”
“Nothing connected him directly.”
“My mother has his name written in a letter.”
“Yes.”
“Lucia had his name.”
“Yes.”
“And now my mother is missing.”
“Yes.”
Elina stepped closer.
“Then why is Carlo still walking around?”
“Because if I accuse the wrong man without proof, whoever actually killed Lucia disappears.”
“What if he is the right man?”
“Then tomorrow he makes a mistake.”
Elina understood.
“You want to use me.”
Adrian flinched almost imperceptibly.
“No.”
“You want me to go to the vineyard.”
“I want Rosa alive.”
“So do I.”
“And I want whoever is behind this to believe we’re following instructions.”
Elina stared at him.
“You’re still using me.”
Adrian did not insult her by denying it.
“Yes.”
The honesty angered her almost as much as a lie would have.
He continued.
“But you will not go alone.”
“The message says—”
“I don’t care.”
“My mother could die.”
“If they wanted Rosa dead, they wouldn’t need you at the vineyard.”
Elina hated the logic.
“What do they want?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked at the broken chest.
“But I think Lucia knew.”
They searched Rosa’s apartment until dawn.
Inside the chest were dozens of letters.
Most had never been sent.
Rosa had written to Lucia every year.
Birthday letters.
Apologies.
Stories about Elina.
Your sister loves cinnamon pancakes.
Elina broke her wrist climbing a tree at twelve.
She asks about her father sometimes. I never know what to say.
She wants to study art, but we cannot afford university.
The pages destroyed Elina in a way she hadn’t expected.
Her mother had not forgotten Lucia.
She had lived with her.
Secretly.
Every year.
Every birthday.
Every silence.
At the bottom of the chest, Elina found a small silver necklace.
Two halves of a heart.
One engraved E.
One engraved L.
Adrian recognized it immediately.
“Lucia wore that.”
“What?”
“She had the L.”
Elina looked at the empty chain.
“Where is it?”
“Police returned it after the crash.”
He swallowed.
“I put it in her jewelry box.”
For the first time, Elina believed completely that Lucia had been her sister.
Not because of DNA.
Because Rosa had bought two cheap pieces of silver and intended them for two daughters.
At seven in the morning, Adrian’s security team returned with information about the vineyard.
Abandoned for twelve years.
Originally purchased by Adrian’s grandfather.
Multiple access roads.
Main house partially collapsed.
Underground wine storage.
“Carlo knows the place?” Elina asked.
“Everyone in the family does.”
Adrian’s security chief, Enzo, spread maps across Rosa’s kitchen table.
“We can position people here and here.”
“No visible weapons,” Adrian said. “Nobody approaches until I give the signal.”
Elina looked at him.
“You’re coming?”
“Yes.”
“The message says alone.”
“Then they’ll be disappointed.”
“No.”
“Elina.”
“If Rosa gets hurt because you walk in—”
“If you walk in alone, both of you might disappear.”
She didn’t have an answer.
At eleven-thirty, they reached a road overlooking the vineyard.
Elina wore a small transmitter beneath her blouse.
Adrian’s men were positioned out of sight.
Adrian insisted on walking the final distance with her.
“You stay behind me,” he said.
She gave him a disbelieving look.
“This is my mother.”
“And whoever took her may have killed my wife.”
They entered together.
The old building smelled of damp wood and dust.
“Mom?”
A chair sat in the middle of the largest room.
Empty.
A phone rested on it.
The screen lit.
Incoming video call.
Elina answered.
Rosa appeared.
Her hands were bound.
“Elina!”
“Mom!”
“Don’t come here.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
A masked man stepped into frame.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Adrian moved beside Elina.
“I’m here.”
“Good.”
“What do you want?”
“The key.”
Adrian glanced at Elina.
“What key?”
“The one Lucia left.”
“We don’t have it.”
The man laughed.
“Then Rosa Valdez has a short afternoon.”
“Wait!” Elina shouted.
The screen went dark.
She turned toward Adrian.
“The brass key.”
“D’Angelo said it was stolen.”
“Unless he lied.”
Adrian’s expression sharpened.
They returned to Orelio immediately.
The restaurant remained closed.
D’Angelo stood behind the bar.
When Elina demanded the key, his face collapsed.
“I didn’t want them to find it.”
“So you lied?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
He reached beneath his shirt.
A thin chain hung around his neck.
At the end was a tiny brass key.
“You had it the entire time?”
“Lucia told me that if someone came asking for it, I should never hand it over.”
“My mother has been kidnapped!”
“I know.”
“Then give it to me.”
D’Angelo closed his hand around the key.
“There’s something you need to understand.”
“What?”
“Lucia didn’t leave only the key.”
He walked toward the oldest section of the wine cellar.
Rows of dusty bottles lined brick walls.
He stopped before a wooden cabinet.
“In the year before she met Adrian, Lucia spent months researching the Valdez family.”
He removed one bottle.
Behind it was a small keyhole.
The brass key fit.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside sat an old digital recorder and a leather notebook.
Adrian stared.
Elina reached for the recorder.
“Don’t,” D’Angelo warned.
“Why?”
“Because Lucia made me promise that the first time it was played, you would both be present.”
Elina looked at Adrian.
Together they pressed play.
Static.
Then a woman’s voice.
Elina’s own voice.
Almost.
“If you’re hearing this,” Lucia said, “then something happened to me.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Lucia continued.
“And if Elina is standing beside you…”
A tiny laugh came through the speaker.
“…then hello, sister. I’m sorry I found you too late.”
Elina covered her mouth.
The recording continued.
“I know who has been watching our family.”
“I know what happened to Aunt Maribel.”
“And Adrian, if you are hearing this, please listen before you let anger decide what happens next.”
A pause.
Then Lucia spoke the sentence that changed everything.
“Carlo Moretti isn’t working alone.”
Adrian opened his eyes.
“The person helping him is someone you trust more than anyone.”
The recording suddenly stopped.
Battery failure.
D’Angelo cursed.
Elina shook the device.
“Who?”
No answer.
Adrian immediately called Enzo.
No response.
Again.
Nothing.
Then the front door of Orelio opened.
Enzo walked inside.
He looked calm.
Too calm.
And behind him stood three armed men.
Elina’s heart dropped.
Enzo slowly removed his earpiece.
Adrian stared at the man who had protected him for eleven years.
“Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”
Enzo’s expression never changed.
“I’m sorry, boss.”
May you like
Then he raised his gun.
---
