Chapter 3 - The Photograph in the Locked Drawer
Diana didn’t leave.
She slowly put her handbag back on the desk.
“What did you just say?”
Marcus looked furious.
“Dominic, don’t.”
Dominic closed the office door.
“You wanted the truth.”
Diana looked between them.
“Yes.”
Dominic walked to his desk and opened the locked bottom drawer.
This time he removed the photograph.
He placed it before her.
Three younger men stood outside a warehouse.
Dominic.
Marcus.
And someone Diana didn’t recognize.
“His name was Adrian Vitelli,” Dominic said.
Diana’s stomach tightened.
Vitelli.
The same family from the letter.
“He died seven years ago.”
“How?”
Marcus answered.
“An accident.”
Dominic laughed without humor.
“No.”
Marcus turned.
“Careful.”
Diana felt the atmosphere change.
“What happened?”
Dominic looked at her.
“Adrian discovered somebody was stealing from both families.”
“Families?”
Neither answered.
Diana understood.
Not ordinary families.
“Adrian believed there was a traitor inside our organization,” Dominic continued. “Three days later, his car went off a bridge.”
Diana looked at Marcus.
“And you think Marcus did it?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
“Then why the warning?”
Dominic flipped the photograph.
The handwriting was visible.
Never trust Marcus Santoro.
Diana stared.
“Who wrote that?”
“Adrian.”
Marcus shook his head.
“You don’t know that.”
“I had it authenticated.”
“Seven years later.”
“Because you gave me a reason.”
Marcus’s face hardened.
“What reason?”
Dominic looked at Diana.
“The message.”
Marcus laughed.
“You think a text proves something?”
“Who sent it?”
Silence.
Diana stepped toward Marcus.
“Who sent the message?”
Marcus looked at her.
Then Dominic.
Finally, he pulled out his phone.
He opened the conversation.
The sender was saved as A.V.
Diana’s skin prickled.
“That’s impossible.”
“Yes,” Marcus said. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
The recent messages were short.
SHE WORKS FOR HIM.
SHE DOESN’T KNOW YET.
And finally:
TELL DIANA WHO HER FATHER REALLY WAS.
Diana stopped breathing.
“My father?”
Dominic went still.
Marcus looked devastated.
“You weren’t supposed to see that yet.”
Diana slapped him.
The sound cracked through the office.
“Don’t ever say that to me again.”
Marcus touched his cheek.
She turned toward Dominic.
“What does my father have to do with this?”
Dominic looked genuinely shaken.
And Diana realized something terrifying.
He knew.
“You know something.”
“Diana—”
“What do you know?”
Her father, Anthony Moretti, had died when Diana was twelve.
At least, that was what she had been told.
A construction accident.
Her mother rarely discussed him.
Diana remembered only pieces.
His laugh.
His old watch.
The smell of coffee.
The way he used to call her piccola.
Dominic sat slowly.
“Anthony Moretti wasn’t a construction worker.”
The room tilted.
“What?”
“He worked for my father.”
Diana stared.
“Doing what?”
Dominic said nothing.
She understood anyway.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
She backed away.
“My mother said—”
“Your mother protected you.”
“From what?”
Dominic’s eyes softened.
“From us.”
The word hurt more than she expected.
Diana turned toward Marcus.
“And you knew?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Before you were hired.”
Her face went cold.
“You knew who I was when I walked into that interview?”
“Yes.”
Diana looked at Dominic.
“And you?”
Dominic didn’t answer.
That answer destroyed her.
“You both knew.”
“Diana—”
“Eighteen months.”
She laughed bitterly.
“I organized your lives. Protected your schedules. Covered your mistakes. Worked myself sick.”
Her eyes filled.
“And the entire time, I was the only person in the building who didn’t know why I was really there.”
“You earned your position,” Dominic said.
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Or did you hire me because of my father?”
Dominic stood.
“I hired you because your résumé was exceptional.”
“You knew my name.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
“I promised your mother.”
Diana froze.
“My mother?”
Dominic realized his mistake immediately.
“You’ve spoken to my mother?”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Diana’s voice dropped.
“When?”
Dominic answered quietly.
“Last year.”
Diana stared at him.
“You went behind my back.”
“She asked me to keep you away from the past.”
“And hiring me into your company accomplished that?”
“I didn’t know you were Anthony’s daughter until after your second interview.”
“Then you should have told me.”
“I wanted to.”
“But?”
“Your mother begged me not to.”
Diana grabbed her coat.
“I’m done.”
Dominic moved forward.
“Diana.”
“No.”
She pointed at him.
“You don’t get to order me around now.”
Then Marcus spoke.
“There’s something else.”
Diana laughed.
“Of course there is.”
Marcus held up his phone.
“The messages from A.V. started three weeks ago.”
“So?”
“Yesterday, I received a photograph.”
He opened it.
Diana looked.
Her blood turned cold.
The photograph had been taken through a café window.
It showed Diana having coffee with her sister.
A timestamp sat in the corner.
Two days earlier.
Beneath it was a message.
ANTHONY’S DAUGHTER HAS HIS EYES.
Diana whispered:
“Who took this?”
“We don’t know.”
For the first time, Dominic’s anger wasn’t directed at her.
It was fear.
Controlled fear.
“You’re not going home alone.”
“You don’t control me.”
“This isn’t about control.”
“Everything with you is about control.”
“Not this.”
Diana looked at him.
Dominic stepped closer.
“When your father died, people disappeared. Money disappeared. Evidence disappeared. Someone spent years making sure the truth stayed buried.”
He pointed toward the photograph.
“Now somebody knows exactly who you are.”
Diana’s phone buzzed.
All three looked down.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Diana standing inside Dominic’s office.
Taken seconds earlier.
From somewhere nearby.
Then a message:
May you like
ASK DOMINIC WHAT HE DID THE NIGHT YOUR FATHER DIED.
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