Chapter 5 - THE LETTER UNDER THE FLOOR
I called my father's old number.
Disconnected.
I called his lawyer.
Voicemail.
Then I remembered something.
His workshop.
After his funeral, I hadn't gone back.
Not once.
Dante insisted on coming with me.
The workshop was a small brick building outside the city.
Dust covered everything.
My father's tools were exactly where he'd left them.
Dante walked quietly behind me.
“You don't have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
I opened drawers.
Nothing.
Cabinets.
Nothing.
Then I remembered his favorite saying.
“When you hide something important, don't hide it where people look.”
I stared at the floor.
Dante noticed.
“What?”
I pointed.
One wooden plank was newer than the others.
He crouched.
Together, we lifted it.
Underneath was a metal box.
My hands shook.
Inside were photographs, bank statements, and letters.
One letter had my name on it.
ELEANOR.
I opened it.
My father's handwriting filled the page.
My daughter,
If you're reading this, I failed to tell you the truth.
I stopped breathing.
Dante stood beside me.
The letter explained everything.
My mother had worked as an accountant for Dante's father.
She discovered that someone inside the Russo organization was secretly moving money through legitimate businesses.
She tried to expose it.
My father helped her.
Then she disappeared.
My father spent years protecting me from the people who had threatened them.
But there was one final paragraph.
The person who betrayed your mother was not Victor Hale.
It was someone closer.
Someone inside the family.
Dante's face hardened.
“Isabella.”
“Maybe.”
Then another paper fell from the box.
A transfer record.
The money had moved through an account belonging to…
Celia.
Dante went completely still.
“Celia?”
His former fiancée.
The woman from the estate.
“No,” he whispered.
The evidence seemed overwhelming.
Celia had received payments.
She had access to his schedule.
She had known about the restaurant.
She had visited the estate.
But something bothered me.
“This is too easy.”
Dante looked at me.
“What?”
“Someone wanted us to find this.”
He stared at the documents.
“You think it's planted?”
“I think someone knew we'd come here.”
His phone rang.
Gabriel.
“Dante, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“Celia is missing.”
Dante's eyes hardened.
“What do you mean missing?”
“She left her apartment two hours ago.”
“Where did she go?”
Gabriel hesitated.
“Her last location was your father's old warehouse.”
Dante looked at me.
We drove there immediately.
The warehouse was empty.
Except for a single chair.
On it sat the diamond ring Dante had intended to give Celia.
Beside it was a note.
YOU NEVER ASKED WHY SHE HATED YOU.
Dante picked it up.
His expression changed.
Not fear.
Pain.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He didn't answer.
Then a gunshot cracked through the building.
The window beside me shattered.
Dante grabbed me and pulled me behind a concrete pillar.
His body covered mine.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Dante whispered:
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Eleanor.”
“I stay with you.”
He looked at me.
Something unspoken passed between us.
Then we heard footsteps.
Someone walked into the warehouse.
Celia.
Her hands were raised.
Blood covered her sleeve.
“Dante.”
He stepped forward.
“Where were you?”
She began crying.
“They have my brother.”
Dante froze.
“What?”
“They've had him for seven years.”
She looked at me.
“They made me get close to you.”
My stomach dropped.
“Then why didn't you betray him?”
Celia's voice broke.
“Because I fell in love with him.”
Dante stared at her.
She wiped her tears.
“I was supposed to destroy you.”
She looked at me.
“Instead, I spent six years trying to keep you alive.”
The truth was finally becoming clear.
Celia wasn't the villain.
May you like
She had been another prisoner.
And somewhere in the shadows, the real enemy was still watching.
