Chapter 6 - The Doctor Who Lied to Lorenzo Duca
Lorenzo found Marco in the underground garage.
He was standing beside Isabella's old Mercedes.
The damaged vehicle had been stored beneath a protective cover for three years because Lorenzo could never bring himself to destroy it.
Marco removed the cover.
He froze when Lorenzo entered.
For several seconds neither man spoke.
They had known each other since they were fifteen.
They had fought together.
Built businesses together.
Buried parents.
Celebrated births.
Marco had stood beside Lorenzo at his wedding.
Held newborn Lucas in the hospital.
And carried Isabella's coffin.
“Why are you looking at her car?” Lorenzo asked.
Marco looked tired.
“Because Keller left through the garage.”
“How?”
“There is an old service tunnel.”
Lorenzo stopped.
“What tunnel?”
“Built during Prohibition. It connects the garage to a utility building outside the east wall.”
“You knew?”
“I found it this morning.”
“Convenient.”
Marco heard the accusation.
“What happened?”
Lorenzo held up a phone.
He played Rachel's recording.
Marco listened.
His face became unreadable.
When the video ended, he looked at Lorenzo.
“You think she's talking about me.”
“She said the man had access to cameras and cars.”
“So do three other people.”
“She said I call him brother.”
Marco laughed once.
No humor.
“You call me brother.”
“Yes.”
“You also called Antonio brother.”
Lorenzo stared.
Antonio Duca.
Lorenzo's older cousin.
Raised in the same house after Antonio's father died.
Lorenzo had not seen him in four years.
Antonio left the country after a disagreement involving family businesses.
Or that was the story.
“Antonio didn't have access to this estate.”
“He did before he left.”
“Rachel's video was made after.”
Marco looked toward Isabella's car.
“Was it?”
Lorenzo's expression changed.
“What are you saying?”
“Antonio never really left.”
The garage seemed colder.
“Explain.”
“He was still working through shell companies.”
“With Marrow?”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Isabella asked me not to.”
Lorenzo grabbed Marco's jacket.
“You don't get to use her name.”
Marco did not resist.
“She was gathering evidence.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Not enough.”
“Did you know she was in danger?”
Marco's eyes changed.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo shoved him against the car.
“Then why was she alone that day?”
“She wasn't supposed to be.”
“Answer me.”
“I assigned two men.”
“They disappeared.”
“They were paid off.”
“By who?”
“I didn't know then.”
“And now?”
Marco looked directly at him.
“Antonio.”
Lorenzo released him.
For years he had blamed unknown enemies.
Rival families.
Business disputes.
Government contacts.
He never considered blood.
“Why?”
“Money.”
“That simple?”
“No.”
Marco walked toward a workbench and removed an envelope.
Inside were financial records.
“Antonio believed the legitimate side of the family empire should have been his. He thought you pushed him out.”
“He stole from us.”
“He told himself you stole from him first.”
“And Marrow?”
“Marrow needed access. Antonio needed money.”
Lorenzo read the records.
Payments.
Millions.
Consulting companies.
Overseas accounts.
Dates overlapping Isabella's death.
“Why was Lucas involved?”
Marco shook his head.
“At first, he wasn't a target. The research program needed wealthy families because private treatment generated enormous billing and fewer questions.”
“Then Isabella found out.”
“Yes.”
“And after she died?”
“Antonio realized Lucas could control you.”
Lorenzo looked up.
“What?”
“If Lucas stayed sick, you stayed distracted.”
The truth was so cruel Lorenzo almost rejected it.
But it fit.
For three years Lorenzo had ignored parts of his empire.
Delegated decisions.
Trusted Marco, managers, relatives.
Spent millions on doctors.
Stopped asking business questions.
A sick child had turned one of the most dangerous men on the East Coast into a father who barely slept.
Exactly as intended.
“Where is Antonio?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Marco reached inside his jacket slowly.
He withdrew a small notebook.
“I've been tracking his financial activity for eighteen months.”
Lorenzo took it.
Addresses.
Transfers.
Names.
One entry from two weeks ago.
DUCA MEDICAL STAFF – P.V.
Patricia Vale.
Lorenzo stiffened.
“She was paid?”
“No. Someone used her employee identification to authorize shipments.”
“Then she was framed.”
“Yes.”
“And Keller?”
“Complicated.”
“What does that mean?”
“Rachel was telling the truth. Keller wasn't running the program.”
“But he participated.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Marco hesitated.
“Because Antonio had Rachel.”
Lorenzo stared.
“Blackmail?”
“Rachel discovered the fraud. Antonio threatened Emma and Claire if Keller didn't cooperate.”
Lorenzo remembered Keller's email.
I won't harm Isabella.
Not innocence.
But perhaps desperation.
“Where is Keller now?”
Marco looked toward the service tunnel.
“He left to meet someone.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Lorenzo's entire body tightened.
Marco raised both hands.
“I told him to run.”
“Why?”
“Because the real traitor inside this house would kill him if he stayed.”
“You?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Marco looked toward the upper floors.
“Estate manager.”
“Thomas?”
Marco nodded.
Thomas Reid had worked for the Duca family twenty-seven years.
He managed household staff.
Vehicle schedules.
Deliveries.
Guest access.
Security coordination.
Everything.
Lorenzo felt sick.
Rachel said someone with access to cars and cameras.
Lorenzo had called Thomas “Uncle Tom” as a teenager.
Not brother.
But Isabella might have described him differently.
“Proof?”
Marco handed him another page.
Unauthorized medication shipments had been signed by T. Reid.
The security outage originated from Reid's office terminal.
“And you're only telling me now?”
“I confirmed it twenty minutes ago.”
Lorenzo turned.
“Where is he?”
Marco's radio crackled.
Static.
Then a guard's voice.
“Mr. Duca, we have a problem upstairs.”
Lorenzo ran.
He reached the third floor in less than a minute.
Lucas's bedroom was empty.
The bedcovers were thrown aside.
Emma's stuffed rabbit lay on the floor.
Claire stood in the corridor screaming.
Dr. Chen was unconscious but breathing near the nurses' station.
And taped to Lucas's bedroom door was a note.
Lorenzo tore it free.
It contained only one sentence.
IF YOU WANT YOUR SON BACK, COME TO ISABELLA'S GARDEN ALONE.
Below it was a time.
11:00 p.m.
Lorenzo looked at the clock.
Ten hours.
Then he noticed another detail.
The handwriting was familiar.
He had seen it on birthday cards.
Household ledgers.
Christmas gift tags.
Thomas Reid.
After three years of hunting enemies outside his gates, Lorenzo finally understood.
May you like
The enemy had been serving dinner inside them.
---
