Chapter 5 - A Promise Made Before the Funeral
By sunrise, Landon had arranged a flight to Sicily.
He told no one outside the room.
Not Matteo.
Not family executives.
Not even Isabella until the plane was ready.
When he finally told her, she objected immediately.
“You can’t take Leo.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“He’ll know you’re leaving.”
“He’s four.”
“He’s not stupid.”
“I never said he was.”
“You don’t understand him the way Santino did.”
That sentence hurt more than Landon allowed her to see.
Perhaps Isabella realized it, because her voice softened.
“Leo remembers pieces. Smells. Songs. Places. Things none of us expect.”
“What does he know about Sicily?”
“More than I realized.”
“Has he been there?”
“Once.”
Landon frowned.
“When?”
“When he was a baby.”
“With Santino?”
“And me.”
“You never told me.”
“It was a vacation.”
“At the house with blue shutters?”
Isabella looked away.
There it was again.
Another withheld truth.
“You stayed there.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The summer Santino met Serena.”
Landon let the silence accuse her.
Isabella sighed.
“I promised him.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because he knew something was wrong long before you did.”
“And apparently everyone except me knew.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“We knew pieces. You’re only seeing the whole shape now because the pieces are finally meeting.”
Landon glanced through the nursery door.
Leo slept again, one hand beneath his cheek.
“Tell me everything about that trip.”
Isabella leaned against the hallway wall.
“Santino said he had business in Palermo. He asked me to come because he wanted to make it a family trip.”
“Was Serena there?”
“I met her twice.”
“You met her?”
“Yes.”
“And you forgot to mention this last night?”
“I was trying to decide how many promises I was willing to break.”
Landon looked at her sharply.
“Start breaking them.”
A tired smile appeared.
“You really are impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Santino said the same.”
For a second they both almost smiled.
Then Isabella continued.
“Serena helped us when Leo got sick.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing serious. Fever. But we were far from the hotel, Santino was panicking, and Serena knew a doctor nearby.”
“So that’s how you met.”
“Yes.”
“And the song?”
“I heard Santino sing it in Sicily.”
“Did Serena hear?”
“Probably.”
That explained one mystery.
Not the others.
“What about the second verse?”
Isabella shook her head.
“I don’t remember it.”
“Could Santino have hidden a message in the song intentionally?”
“Maybe later.”
She looked toward Leo.
“After Sicily he sometimes changed the lyrics.”
“A game?”
“I thought so.”
Landon understood.
Santino had turned a lullaby into a memory device.
Something Leo might retain without understanding.
It was clever.
And heartbreaking.
“What else does Leo remember?”
“I asked once. He became upset.”
“Ask again.”
“No.”
“Isabella.”
“He is not evidence.”
Landon stopped.
“You’re right.”
She seemed surprised.
He looked at Leo.
“He’s a child.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll wait.”
That answer changed something between them.
For two years, Isabella had accused Landon without words of treating protection like control.
Perhaps she had been right.
Downstairs, Serena stood beside the windows holding coffee she had not touched.
She had borrowed one of Isabella’s sweaters and a pair of jeans.
Without the waitress uniform, she looked less like a frightened employee and more like the woman from the Sicilian photograph.
Dominic sat across the room checking travel logistics.
“We leave in forty minutes,” Landon said.
Serena looked up.
“I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No.”
“You know the house.”
“So do property records.”
“You know what Santino was looking for.”
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t return.”
“Someone already found you.”
“And your solution is to bring me directly back to the place where this started?”
“My solution is to end it.”
Serena shook her head.
“You sound exactly like him.”
Landon paused.
“Santino?”
“When he decided something, yes.”
“Then you know arguing won’t work.”
“It worked with him occasionally.”
“I’m less reasonable.”
“I noticed.”
Dominic stood.
“I’ll give you two privacy.”
Serena looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because if I stay, I may start charging by the argument.”
He left.
Landon approached Serena.
“Why are you afraid of Sicily?”
For once she did not hide behind sarcasm.
“Because the last time I was there, somebody tried to erase my life.”
“Tell me.”
She looked out at the waking city.
“The day before Santino died, I met Rousseau in Marseille.”
“The banker.”
“Yes.”
“He gave me access instructions for the encrypted account. Santino told me to wait until he contacted me again.”
“He never did.”
“No.”
Serena’s fingers tightened around the cup.
“Then I received a message from an unknown number.”
“What did it say?”
“Your friend is dead. You’re next.”
Landon’s jaw tightened.
“What happened?”
“I tried calling Santino.”
“No answer.”
“I called Isabella.”
Isabella had never mentioned that.
“She told me?”
“She didn’t answer.”
“What did you do?”
“I returned toward Sicily.”
“Why?”
“My passport, files, everything important was there.”
“That was dangerous.”
“I know that now.”
Her mouth twisted.
“I knew it then too.”
“What happened?”
“Someone followed me from Palermo.”
“Who?”
“I never saw their face.”
“The car accident?”
She nodded.
“They forced my vehicle off the road.”
Landon looked at the scar he had noticed.
“I woke in a clinic six hours later. A doctor who knew my mother treated me unofficially.”
“How did your death get reported?”
“My car burned.”
She spoke without drama.
“Police assumed the body inside was mine.”
“There was a body?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“They never identified them publicly.”
Landon felt sick.
Serena continued.
“The doctor told me to stay dead.”
“You agreed.”
“I had just learned Santino had died.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“I thought whoever killed him had tried to kill me.”
“Why not contact authorities?”
“I didn’t know which authorities were safe.”
“Isabella?”
“Eventually.”
“When?”
“After the funeral.”
Landon stared.
“You spoke to her.”
“Yes.”
“What did she give you?”
“The envelope.”
“What was inside?”
Serena finally looked at him.
“A photograph of Leo.”
That was not the answer he expected.
“And?”
“A key.”
“To what?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Anything else?”
“A note.”
Serena walked toward her bag.
From a hidden pocket, she removed a folded piece of paper protected inside plastic.
She handed it to Landon.
Santino’s handwriting.
He recognized it instantly.
Serena,
If you’re reading this, I failed to finish what I started.
Do not blame yourself.
Do not trust anyone simply because they carry my name.
Keep the key.
Stay invisible.
If Landon finds you himself, tell him everything.
But make sure he comes because he chose the truth, not because someone led him to you.
And Serena—
If Leo ever remembers the stars, take him home.
S.
Landon read the final line again.
“Take him home.”
Serena nodded.
“I never understood.”
“Home means Sicily?”
“I think so.”
“The house?”
“Maybe.”
Landon turned the note over.
Nothing.
“Where’s the key?”
Serena reached beneath her shirt and pulled out a thin chain.
A small brass key hung from it.
“You’ve worn it for two years?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Santino died asking me to.”
The answer held no romance.
Only loyalty.
Landon understood that kind of loyalty.
It could ruin lives.
It could also save them.
He handed the note back.
“You’re coming.”
Serena looked tired.
“I knew you would say that.”
“And?”
“I still think it’s a terrible idea.”
“Probably.”
That surprised her.
“So why do it?”
Landon looked toward the staircase leading to Leo’s room.
“Because my brother left his son a message.”
His expression hardened.
“And somebody killed him before he could explain it.”
Seven hours later, their plane descended over the blue Sicilian coastline.
Serena sat rigidly beside the window.
Landon watched the land rise beneath them.
Cefalù appeared in the distance.
Golden stone.
Blue water.
Mountains.
Beautiful enough to make danger seem impossible.
Dominic approached from the rear cabin.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“The house.”
Landon looked at him.
“What about it?”
“Local security checked it twenty minutes ago.”
“And?”
“The front door was open.”
Serena went pale.
Dominic continued.
“Someone has been inside recently.”
“How recently?”
“The fireplace is still warm.”
Landon looked through the window toward the approaching coastline.
Someone had reached Santino’s secret house before them.
May you like
And whoever it was had known exactly where to wait.
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