Chapter 5 - The Secret Between Their Families
For twenty years, Enzo Moretti had believed his father died alone.
Now he learned Elena Russo had been there.
Not as the woman standing beside him.
As a child.
Daniel explained after Vittorio ended the call.
“Elena was nine.”
Antonio closed his eyes.
He already knew.
Elena stared at her father.
“You knew this too?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
Antonio’s voice broke.
“Your mother realized Vittorio knew she was cooperating with us. She planned to take you away.”
Elena remembered fragments.
Suitcases.
Her mother crying.
A late-night drive.
Rain.
Then nothing.
“Enzo’s father, Matteo, agreed to help,” Daniel said.
Enzo stared.
“My father knew Sofia?”
“They were working together.”
Daniel continued.
“Vittorio’s men followed them. Matteo intercepted the car. He got Elena out before the crash.”
Elena touched her temple.
A memory surfaced.
Strong arms carrying her.
A man shouting.
Rain against her face.
“Matteo saved me?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
Daniel looked at Enzo.
“Vittorio discovered his brother had betrayed him.”
Enzo knew the rest before Daniel spoke.
“Matteo died three weeks later.”
Silence.
Elena walked toward Enzo.
He looked at her.
“My father died because he saved you.”
Tears appeared in Elena’s eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“But—”
“Don’t ever apologize for surviving.”
The words broke something open between them.
Elena reached for him.
Enzo pulled her against his chest.
For once he did not care who watched.
She held him tightly.
Two children separated by twenty years of lies had finally discovered their parents had died protecting the same future.
Theirs.
Marco cleared his throat.
“We still have a problem.”
Enzo slowly released Elena.
“Vittorio.”
“And the people outside.”
Daniel knew another exit.
They left through an underground passage built beneath the old church decades earlier.
By dawn, they were inside a Moretti safe house.
Enzo stood by the window.
Elena entered.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I tried.”
“So did I.”
She stood beside him.
For several moments they watched the city wake.
Then Elena said, “Were you really jealous?”
Enzo looked at her.
“Now?”
“No. On the terrace.”
“This is what you want to discuss?”
“I’ve had a difficult twenty-four hours. Humor me.”
He almost smiled.
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“I was jealous.”
“Of Marco?”
“Extremely.”
Her lips curved.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m aware.”
“He was putting sunscreen on me.”
“I’m aware.”
“And you thought—”
“I don’t want to discuss what I thought.”
Elena laughed.
For the first time since Monaco, the sound held warmth.
Enzo looked at her.
Then the laughter faded.
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“I meant what I said.”
“What part?”
“You are my weakness.”
She searched his face.
“That doesn’t sound romantic.”
“It isn’t supposed to.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means I spent my life making sure nobody mattered enough to be used against me.”
“And then?”
“You applied for a job.”
Her eyes softened.
“I was very qualified.”
“You were unbearable.”
“I corrected three errors in your interview.”
“Four.”
“You remember?”
“I remember everything about that day.”
Elena’s breathing slowed.
Enzo stepped closer.
“I don’t know when it happened.”
“What?”
“When you stopped being my employee and became the first person I looked for when I entered a room.”
“Elena—”
She kissed him.
Enzo froze.
Only for half a second.
Then his hand moved carefully to her waist.
The kiss was not dramatic.
It was quiet.
Two years of restraint collapsing into something surprisingly gentle.
When they separated, Elena rested her forehead against his.
“That was long overdue.”
“You’re telling me?”
She smiled.
Then Marco entered.
“I have terrible timing.”
Enzo did not move away.
“Yes.”
Marco placed a folder on the table.
“We found Vittorio.”
The mood changed instantly.
“Where?”
“Monaco.”
Elena blinked.
“We just came from Monaco.”
“Exactly.”
Marco opened satellite photographs.
Vittorio owned a villa under another name overlooking the harbor.
Less than four miles from their hotel.
“He was watching us the entire time,” Elena whispered.
Enzo looked at the photographs.
“No.”
“What?”
“He wanted us to discover him.”
Daniel entered behind Marco.
“Enzo’s right.”
“Why?”
“Because Vittorio needs the original evidence.”
“We have it.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at him.
“The memory card contains copies.”
Elena frowned.
“Where are the originals?”
Daniel looked directly at her.
“Your mother hid them.”
“Where?”
“I never knew.”
“Then how does Vittorio expect me to?”
“Because Sofia left you the answer.”
Daniel placed an old photograph on the table.
It showed Sofia holding nine-year-old Elena on a beach.
On the back was a handwritten sentence.
Where the sea touches the white house, Elena will always be safe.
Elena stared.
“I know where this is.”
Enzo turned.
“Where?”
“Capri.”
Antonio entered.
His face went pale when he saw the photograph.
“Sofia’s family had a house there.”
Daniel nodded.
“The White House.”
Enzo immediately began planning.
But Antonio remained frozen.
“What?” Elena asked.
Her father looked at her.
“There’s something else.”
Elena almost laughed from exhaustion.
“Of course there is.”
Antonio removed an old document.
“Sofia left the property to you.”
“I own it?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she made me promise never to take you there unless Vittorio returned.”
Elena looked at the photograph.
Then at Enzo.
“We’re going to Capri.”
Enzo nodded.
But Marco’s phone rang.
He listened.
Then went pale.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Our Monaco security team checked Vittorio’s villa.”
“And?”
“It’s empty.”
Enzo’s expression hardened.
Marco continued.
“But they found travel records.”
“To where?”
Marco looked at Elena.
“Naples.”
The closest major airport to Capri.
Vittorio was already ahead of them.
Then Daniel’s phone vibrated.
A photograph arrived.
The White House.
Taken minutes earlier.
Someone stood on its terrace.
Vittorio.
Below the photograph was a message.
May you like
COME HOME, ELENA.
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