Chapter 3
I did not open the flash drive at home.
Not with Ruby crying in the kitchen.
Not with Evelyn standing too straight, trying to become older than twelve because fear had demanded it from her.
Not with Claudia’s perfume still hanging in the hall like a lie.
I took the drive to my attorney, Sofia Maren.
She had been Isabella’s friend before she became mine.
Sharp.
Patient.
Impossible to intimidate.
The moment she saw Isabella’s bracelet in the evidence bag, she sat down.
“Where did you find it?”
“Under the lavender.”
Her eyes filled.
“She told me she hid something there.”
My head snapped up.
“You knew?”
“She called me the night before the crash. She said she had proof, but she sounded terrified. I told her to come to my office in the morning.”
My throat closed.
“She never made it.”
“No.”
Sofia looked at me, and her grief made mine feel less lonely.
“I gave the police my call log. They said it didn’t change anything. Weather. Slick road. Bad visibility.”
I placed the flash drive on her desk.
“Then let’s change it now.”
She called a forensic technician before touching it.
While we waited, I checked my phone.
Thirty-seven missed calls.
My father’s old board members.
Claudia’s mother.
Marco’s wife, Celeste.
And one unknown number.
A voicemail waited.
I played it.
A child’s voice whispered, “Uncle Alessio?”
My blood went cold.
It was Evelyn’s cousin, Mateo.
Marco’s seven-year-old son.
Then Celeste’s voice hissed, “Hang up.”
The message ended.
I called back immediately.
No answer.
I called Luca.
“Find Celeste and Mateo.”
“Already trying, boss. Marco’s house is empty.”
My stomach tightened.
“Empty?”
“Closets open. Some clothes gone. Security cameras disabled.”
Of course.
Marco had planned for this.
Men like my brother always had a second door.
Sofia’s technician arrived and copied the drive.
We watched the first file.
Isabella appeared on screen in our greenhouse.
My wife.
Alive.
Hair tied back.
Soil on her cheek.
Lavender behind her.
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
“Alessio,” she said, looking into the camera. “If you’re seeing this, I failed to make you listen while I was alive.”
I bent forward like I had been struck.
Sofia covered her mouth.
Isabella continued.
“I don’t blame you for trusting Marco. He’s your brother. I blamed myself for weeks because I didn’t want to see it either.”
Her voice trembled, but she stayed steady.
“Marco has been stealing through Ventresca Imports. Not small amounts. Millions. He used shell vendors tied to Claudia Bellini’s family.”
Claudia’s maiden name.
My skin went cold.
“I thought Claudia was only helping him launder the money. Then I found life insurance paperwork taken out on me without my signature.”
Sofia whispered, “God.”
Isabella looked over her shoulder in the video.
Then back.
“Your father knew. He told me family scandals kill companies faster than crimes. He said if I loved you, I would stay quiet.”
My father had died six months after Isabella.
I had mourned him as a pillar.
Now the pillar was cracking.
“I am putting copies in three places,” Isabella said. “One with Sofia if I make it there. One hidden here. One with the only person in that house who sees more than anyone thinks.”
The video cut off.
I looked at Sofia.
“Marta.”
My housekeeper.
The woman Claudia treated like furniture.
The woman who recorded the terrace.
We drove back immediately.
Police were still at the estate.
Claudia and Marco had been taken for questioning.
Ruby was asleep on Marta’s lap in the nursery.
Evelyn sat beside them, holding her sister’s hand.
When I entered, both girls looked at me.
Ruby’s eyes were swollen.
“Is Claudia coming back?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
I crouched.
“Not if I can stop it.”
Evelyn’s jaw trembled.
“Marco said judges listen to him.”
I hated that my child knew that kind of sentence.
“Then we’ll find louder truth.”
Marta looked at me.
Her face was pale.
“You opened the drive.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“I hoped I would never need mine.”
“You have something?”
She nodded.
“In the chapel.”
Our family chapel stood beyond the gardens, a stone building my grandfather built for weddings and funerals.
Mostly funerals.
Marta led me to the old piano.
She lifted the bench lid and removed the false bottom.
Inside was a sealed folder wrapped in cloth.
Isabella’s handwriting marked the front.
For my daughters.
My hands shook.
Evelyn stepped forward.
“That’s Mom’s writing.”
I looked at Marta.
“She meant for them?”
“When they were older,” Marta whispered. “But maybe secrets have already taken enough.”
I opened the folder.
Inside were letters.
One for Ruby.
One for Evelyn.
One for me.
And one photograph.
Isabella standing beside a man I did not recognize, outside a warehouse with Marco in the background.
The man had bruises on his face and fear in his eyes.
On the back, Isabella had written:
Daniel Cross. Witness. If he disappears, Marco killed more than money.
Sofia read it over my shoulder.
“I know that name.”
“Who is he?”
“A truck driver. He was blamed for Isabella’s crash.”
My pulse pounded.
“He survived?”
Sofia nodded slowly.
“He vanished before trial. The official report said he fled.”
Marta crossed herself.
Evelyn whispered, “Maybe he didn’t flee.”
My phone rang.
Luca.
I answered.
His voice was sharp.
“We found Celeste’s car.”
“Where?”
“Near the river.”
“And Mateo?”
A pause.
“That’s the problem.”
My hand tightened.
“What problem?”
“There’s no sign of him. But someone left a note on the windshield.”
I closed my eyes.
“What does it say?”
May you like
Luca swallowed.
“Stop digging, or the next garden gets a child.”
