Chapter 2 - **The Secret Buried With His Father
Adrian Moretti had spent fourteen years believing he knew exactly how his father died.
Carlo Moretti had been murdered outside a restaurant in Naples.
Two shooters.
Seven bullets.
A rival family.
That was the official story.
Adrian had been twenty-two when he received the call.
By sunrise, he had inherited an empire.
By the following week, three men believed responsible were dead.
By the following month, the Moretti organization belonged completely to Adrian.
He had never questioned the story.
Until Elena Rossi stood inside his communications room and told him she had discovered something else.
“What did you find?”
Elena glanced at Marco.
Adrian understood.
“Marco stays.”
She hesitated.
“Five years ago, when I worked for your company, I found an insurance payment.”
Adrian said nothing.
“It came from a shell corporation in Switzerland.”
“To whom?”
“A man named Luca Ferraro.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
Marco’s expression became equally serious.
Luca Ferraro had been Carlo Moretti’s closest friend.
He had also been Adrian’s godfather.
Luca had disappeared fourteen years ago, three days after Carlo’s murder.
Most assumed he had been killed in retaliation.
Adrian had assumed the same.
“How much?”
“Two million euros.”
“When?”
“The payment was approved two days before your father died.”
Adrian felt something cold settle in his chest.
“Approved by whom?”
“That was the problem. The authorization code belonged to your father.”
Marco looked at Adrian.
Elena continued.
“At first I thought it was legitimate. But then I checked the digital records. The transaction had been backdated.”
“Meaning?”
“Someone created the payment after your father died and made it look like he authorized it before.”
Adrian’s voice became very quiet.
“Who had access?”
“I couldn’t determine that.”
“And this is why someone threatened you?”
“I think so.”
“You said there was more.”
Elena nodded.
“I found another payment.”
“To Luca?”
“No.”
“To whom?”
She looked toward the door.
“Adrian, we shouldn’t stay here.”
Marco immediately moved to the corridor.
Adrian remained focused on her.
“To whom, Elena?”
“Your mother.”
The words landed harder than she intended.
Adrian’s mother, Sofia Moretti, had died six years earlier.
Cancer.
She had spent her final months in a villa overlooking Lake Como.
Adrian had been with her when she died.
He had held her hand.
“What payment?”
“Five hundred thousand euros.”
“From where?”
“The same shell company.”
“When?”
“One week after my father’s death.”
“Yes.”
Adrian stared through the window.
The sea was darkening.
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing. I never discovered why the money moved.”
“Did my mother know?”
“I don’t know.”
Marco returned.
“Hallway clear.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Find Luca Ferraro.”
Marco stared.
“He’s been missing fourteen years.”
“Then start looking fourteen years backward.”
Before Marco could respond, the yacht lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then darkness.
Emergency lighting came on seconds later.
Red strips illuminated the floor.
Marco swore.
“Engine room.”
He touched his radio.
Nothing.
Static.
Adrian took Elena’s hand.
“We move.”
They left the communications room.
Somewhere below, an alarm began sounding.
Adrian didn’t like alarms.
They created panic.
Panic created mistakes.
The yacht captain appeared at the staircase.
“Mr. Moretti, we’ve lost primary power.”
“Engines?”
“Still running, but communications are down.”
“Satellite?”
“Disabled.”
“By failure?”
The captain hesitated.
“No.”
“Then restore it.”
Adrian continued toward the bridge.
Elena stayed close.
When they reached the upper hallway, she whispered, “Someone planned this.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t seem worried.”
“I’m extremely worried.”
“You don’t look worried.”
Adrian glanced at her.
“That’s why I’m still alive.”
They entered the bridge.
Two officers were working on the electrical system.
The captain followed.
Adrian looked at the navigation display.
Their route had changed.
“Captain.”
The man froze.
Adrian pointed.
“Why are we heading south?”
“We aren’t.”
“Yes, we are.”
The captain rushed forward.
His face changed.
“Autopilot has been altered.”
“Can you override it?”
“I should be able to.”
He attempted several commands.
Nothing.
“We’ve been locked out.”
Marco’s voice came from behind.
“Adrian.”
He held a tablet.
“One of the security feeds came back.”
On the screen was the medical room.
Empty.
Then a figure entered.
Crew uniform.
Black gloves.
Cap pulled low.
The figure placed something on the medical table.
Then looked directly toward the camera.
Even with the poor resolution, Elena recognized the posture.
“That’s him.”
The figure reached upward.
Feed gone.
Adrian turned.
“Medical room.”
Marco and two guards moved first.
Adrian followed with Elena despite Marco’s objection.
The medical room was three levels below.
When they arrived, the door was open.
Nothing moved inside.
Marco entered.
“Clear.”
On the center table lay a manila envelope.
Adrian opened it.
Inside were photographs.
His father.
Luca Ferraro.
His mother.
And another man Adrian immediately recognized.
Vittorio Moretti.
Adrian’s uncle.
Carlo’s younger brother.
Vittorio had helped raise Adrian after his father’s death.
He had taught him how to negotiate.
How to shoot.
How to survive betrayal.
Vittorio was currently in Sicily.
Or supposedly.
Elena pointed toward one photograph.
“What?”
“Look at the date.”
Adrian did.
It was taken one day after Carlo’s murder.
Luca Ferraro stood outside a private airfield.
Beside him was Vittorio.
Alive.
Together.
Marco cursed.
“That’s impossible.”
Elena shook her head.
“No. That’s why someone wanted the records destroyed.”
Adrian turned the photograph over.
Handwriting.
YOUR FATHER TRUSTED THE WRONG BROTHER.
Adrian felt anger beginning to rise.
Controlled.
Cold.
Dangerous.
Another photo showed Sofia Moretti entering a bank.
Another showed Vittorio speaking to Luca.
Then Adrian reached the final photograph.
He stopped breathing.
Elena noticed.
“What is it?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
The photograph was of Elena.
Five years earlier.
Outside Adrian’s Naples office.
Standing beside—
Vittorio Moretti.
Elena stared.
“I never met him.”
Adrian looked at her.
“That’s you.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s my uncle.”
“I’m telling you, I never met him.”
Marco examined it.
“Could be manipulated.”
Adrian turned it over.
Another message.
SHE LIED TO YOU BEFORE. SHE WILL LIE AGAIN.
Elena backed away.
“No.”
Adrian watched her.
“I swear to you.”
“Then explain the photograph.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re standing three feet from him.”
“I don’t remember that happening!”
“Memory is convenient.”
Pain crossed Elena’s face.
“Do you really think I did this to myself?”
Adrian looked at her injuries.
“No.”
“Then believe me.”
“I believe someone hurt you.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
The ship suddenly tilted.
Everyone grabbed nearby furniture.
The captain’s voice came over the emergency system.
“Mr. Moretti, we have a navigation problem.”
Adrian grabbed the radio mounted on the wall.
“Define problem.”
“We’re approaching restricted waters.”
“How long?”
“Twenty-three minutes.”
“Override?”
“Still locked.”
Marco looked at Adrian.
“Someone wants us somewhere.”
Adrian agreed.
“Why?”
Elena stared at the photograph again.
Then her eyes widened.
“What?”
“That airfield.”
She grabbed the photo showing Luca and Vittorio.
“I know it.”
“Where?”
“An island.”
“What island?”
“San Aurelio.”
Marco looked confused.
Adrian wasn’t.
San Aurelio was a small privately owned island south of their current position.
It belonged to the Moretti family.
Adrian had not visited it since childhood.
His father once used it for private meetings.
The villa had been abandoned after Carlo died.
Adrian looked toward the navigation map.
Their new course led directly there.
Someone had taken control of his yacht.
Someone wanted him on his father’s abandoned island.
And someone had brought Elena aboard with a secret connected to a fourteen-year-old murder.
Adrian looked at Marco.
“Take control manually.”
“We may need to access the engine control room directly.”
“Do it.”
Marco left.
Elena remained beside Adrian.
“You think I’m part of this.”
“I don’t know what to think.”
She looked hurt.
He hated that it affected him.
She whispered, “Five years ago, I wanted to tell you what I found.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because the night before I planned to meet you, someone came to my apartment.”
“The man who threatened your brother?”
“Yes.”
“What did he look like?”
“I barely saw him.”
“Voice?”
Elena froze.
Adrian noticed.
“What?”
She slowly turned toward him.
“The voice.”
“What about it?”
“The man who threatened me five years ago…”
Her face became pale.
“It was the same voice I heard last night.”
Adrian understood.
The same person had been hunting Elena for five years.
And that person was now aboard the Imperatrice.
A sudden sound came from the hallway.
A gunshot.
Then another.
Adrian pushed Elena behind him.
Marco’s voice erupted through the radio.
“Adrian! Lock the medical room!”
Adrian grabbed the door.
Too late.
A man appeared at the far end of the corridor.
Black crew uniform.
Gun in hand.
He raised it.
Adrian fired first.
The stranger disappeared around the corner.
Adrian followed.
“Elena, stay!”
He reached the corridor.
Empty.
A service door swung open.
Adrian rushed through.
Staircase.
Footsteps below.
He descended.
Deck Four.
Deck Five.
Then the engine-level passage.
The man vanished through another door.
Adrian followed.
He reached an exterior maintenance platform.
Nothing.
Only darkness and ocean.
Then something moved behind him.
Adrian turned.
A knife flashed.
He blocked the first strike.
The attacker hit him hard in the ribs.
Adrian slammed the man against the railing.
They struggled.
The attacker wore a mask.
Adrian grabbed it.
Almost pulled it away.
The man struck him again and jumped backward.
“Who sent you?”
The attacker laughed.
Adrian recognized nothing about the voice now.
Distorted.
Artificial.
The attacker backed toward the edge.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“This yacht was never the target.”
Adrian raised his gun.
“What is?”
The man looked past him.
Toward the upper decks.
Then said two words.
“Elena is.”
He jumped.
Adrian rushed to the railing.
The sea below swallowed the figure.
No boat.
No light.
Nothing.
Adrian turned and ran.
When he reached the medical room, the door stood open.
His guards were unconscious.
Marco was bleeding from his temple.
And Elena was gone.
On the floor lay her torn white satin strap.
May you like
Beside it was a note.
COME TO SAN AURELIO IF YOU WANT HER ALIVE.
