Chapter 3 - Someone Inside the Ferretti House
By sunrise, Hope was sitting inside Luca Ferretti’s private study wearing borrowed sweatpants, drinking coffee that probably cost more than her monthly phone bill.
She hated it.
Not the coffee.
The room.
The mansion.
The quiet luxury.
The guards outside every door.
Everything about the place made her feel trapped.
Luca stood near the fireplace.
Cal worked at a laptop.
Nobody had slept.
Hope finally broke the silence.
“What does connected to us mean?”
Cal did not look up.
“I’m trying to find out.”
“Try faster.”
Luca looked toward her.
“Who were your parents?”
Hope laughed.
“Don’t.”
“It matters.”
“My mother was a nurse. My father was a mechanic.”
“Names?”
“Why?”
“Because my brother knew yours.”
Hope set the cup down.
“Daniel and Rebecca Whitaker.”
Luca’s expression changed.
Hope noticed immediately.
“You know that name.”
“No.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Luca looked away.
“Rebecca.”
Hope stood.
“What?”
“My mother had a friend named Rebecca.”
“How close?”
“I was a child.”
“Last name?”
“I don’t remember.”
Hope stepped toward him.
“Try.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“My mother died when I was twelve.”
The anger drained slightly from Hope.
“I’m sorry.”
“She kept letters. Elias found them years later.”
“Letters from Rebecca?”
“Possibly.”
Cal looked up.
“Where are they?”
“Family archives.”
Hope stared.
“You have family archives?”
Luca gave him a dry look.
“You worked intelligence. You’re surprised rich criminals keep paperwork?”
Cal almost smiled.
“Fair.”
Luca pressed an intercom.
“Bring me the blue file boxes from my mother’s storage.”
A voice answered.
“Yes, sir.”
Hope folded her arms.
“So we sit?”
“We investigate.”
“And the men who attacked us?”
“My people are identifying them.”
“Your people missed three men entering your house.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“They had help.”
That statement settled heavily.
“Inside help?” Hope asked.
“Yes.”
Cal closed the laptop.
“The estate’s security layout isn’t public. The attackers knew camera blind spots.”
Luca nodded.
“The east gate had been manually placed in maintenance mode eight minutes before Hope arrived.”
Hope stared.
“That’s why the instructions told me east gate.”
“Yes.”
“You think they used me?”
“I think someone wanted you inside the property when the attack began.”
Hope’s face went still.
Cal leaned forward.
“That means the delivery order was bait.”
“Why?”
“To see what you would do.”
Luca looked at her scars.
“Or to confirm who you were.”
Hope felt cold.
The kitchen fight replayed.
Three attackers.
The older woman screaming.
Her decision to go back.
Had someone predicted that?
No.
“You can’t know I’d run inside.”
“Elias might have,” Luca said.
Hope looked at him.
He continued.
“My brother studied people.”
“I met him for fourteen minutes.”
“Apparently he knew about you before then.”
A knock came.
An elderly man entered carrying two blue archival boxes.
“Mr. Ferretti.”
Luca turned.
“Thank you, Vincent.”
Hope noticed Cal watching the man.
Vincent was perhaps sixty-five.
Silver hair.
Perfect suit.
Cal asked, “How long have you worked for the family?”
Vincent looked at him.
“Forty-two years.”
“Long time.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Elias?”
“I changed his diapers.”
Pain flickered across the old man’s face.
Luca opened the first box.
Letters.
Photographs.
Receipts.
He searched.
Hope noticed an old picture.
A younger woman holding two boys.
Luca and Elias.
Beside her stood another woman.
Hope’s breath stopped.
She picked it up.
“That’s my mother.”
Luca looked.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca Whitaker was younger.
Maybe twenty-five.
But Hope knew the eyes.
The smile.
The tiny mole beside her left eyebrow.
On the back, handwriting:
Sofia, Rebecca, Luca & Elias — Cape Ann, 1994.
Hope sat down.
“My mother never told me.”
Luca stared at the picture.
“I remember her.”
“What?”
“Rebecca.”
He looked at Hope.
“She stayed with us one summer.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent spoke from behind them.
“I do.”
Everyone turned.
The old man looked uncomfortable.
“Mrs. Ferretti helped Rebecca leave Boston.”
“Leave what?”
Vincent looked at Luca.
“Your father.”
Silence.
Luca’s voice became dangerous.
“Explain.”
Vincent hesitated.
“Rebecca worked as a nurse at a private clinic used by the family.”
Hope stared.
“She met Sofia there.”
“Yes.”
“And my father?”
Vincent lowered his eyes.
“Daniel Whitaker was not Hope’s biological father.”
Hope felt the floor disappear.
“No.”
Luca stood motionless.
Cal slowly closed the laptop.
Hope shook her head.
“No. My father raised me.”
“Yes,” Vincent said.
“He was your father in every meaningful sense.”
“Who was biological?”
Vincent looked at Luca.
Luca understood first.
His face turned white.
“No.”
Hope looked between them.
“What?”
Vincent whispered, “Your father, Luca.”
Hope stopped breathing.
Luca stepped backward.
“No.”
“Your father had an affair with Rebecca. Sofia discovered it after Rebecca became pregnant.”
Hope’s voice disappeared.
Vincent continued.
“Sofia helped her leave. Daniel Whitaker married her afterward and raised Hope as his daughter.”
Hope’s hands began shaking.
“You’re saying—”
She looked at Luca.
He stared back.
“You’re saying Luca is my—”
“Half brother,” Cal finished quietly.
Hope laughed.
One disbelieving sound.
“No.”
She walked toward the door.
Luca moved.
“Hope.”
“Don’t.”
“We should verify.”
“Of course we should verify!”
She turned.
“I spend three years carrying the death of a soldier I met for fourteen minutes, and now you’re telling me he was my brother?”
No one answered.
Hope’s voice cracked.
“Elias knew?”
Vincent looked down.
“Yes.”
Hope’s eyes filled.
“When?”
“Several months before his deployment ended.”
She turned away.
That hurt more than everything else.
Elias had known.
During those fourteen minutes, he had known she was his sister.
And he never told her.
Why?
The answer came from memory.
His hand around hers.
Don’t tell him yet.
He had not been talking about his death.
He had been talking about her.
Hope covered her mouth.
Luca looked shattered too.
“He knew.”
Vincent nodded.
“He found Sofia’s letters.”
“And said nothing to me?”
“He was afraid.”
“Of me?”
Vincent’s silence answered.
Luca’s face hardened.
Cal stood.
“Maybe he wasn’t afraid of Luca.”
Everyone looked at him.
Cal placed the flash drive on the desk.
“He was investigating financial transfers involving the Ferretti organization. If Elias discovered Hope was related to the family at the same time he discovered a traitor, telling Luca might have exposed her.”
Hope looked toward the guards outside.
“Someone inside.”
“Yes.”
Luca turned to Vincent.
“Who knew?”
“About Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“Your father. Sofia. Me. Elias eventually.”
“Anyone else?”
Vincent hesitated.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Your uncle Gabriel.”
Luca went still.
“The man who owned Red Meridian.”
“Yes.”
Cal and Hope exchanged a look.
Luca walked toward the window.
“My uncle died eighteen months ago.”
Hope asked, “Did you see his body?”
Luca turned slowly.
“Yes.”
“Funeral?”
“Yes.”
“Medical confirmation?”
His silence said enough.
Cal opened his laptop.
“I’ll check.”
Vincent suddenly swayed.
Hope noticed first.
“Vincent?”
The old man gripped the desk.
His face had gone gray.
Hope reached him as his knees buckled.
“Call an ambulance!”
Luca caught Vincent’s shoulders.
Hope checked his pulse.
Too slow.
“Vincent, what did you take?”
He struggled to focus.
“Coffee.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes.”
Hope looked at Luca’s untouched cup.
Then hers.
“Who brought it?”
Vincent’s lips moved.
Luca leaned close.
“What?”
Vincent whispered one name.
“Marco.”
Luca’s face changed.
“Marco?”
Hope looked up.
“Who is Marco?”
Before Luca could answer, a gunshot sounded downstairs.
Then another.
Security alarms erupted.
Luca drew his weapon.
Cal rushed to the window.
“Vehicles moving at the north gate.”
Hope stayed beside Vincent.
“Who is Marco?”
Luca stared toward the hallway.
“My cousin.”
Another gunshot.
Closer.
“And,” Luca continued, voice hollow, “the man who has controlled security for this house for twelve years.”
The lights went out.
Hope heard running footsteps outside the study.
Then Marco Ferretti’s voice came through the darkness.
“Luca?”
A pause.
May you like
“Open the door.”
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