Chapter 3 - THE SECRET HER FATHER SOLD
“Call my father.”
Elio did not move.
Janevra stood across from his desk with both palms pressed against the polished walnut.
“Now.”
“It’s three in the morning.”
“I’m aware of how clocks work.”
Bruno looked down.
Elio gave him a warning glance.
Janevra was beginning to suspect Bruno enjoyed watching somebody speak to his boss like a human being.
Elio picked up the phone.
Victoriao Moretti answered on the fourth ring.
His irritation vanished when Elio mentioned the photograph.
Thirty minutes later, Janevra’s father entered the study.
He looked at his daughter once.
Then at Elio.
That was enough.
Janevra understood.
“You knew.”
Victoriao removed his coat.
“Jenny—”
“Don’t call me that.”
Her father stopped.
“You knew someone was watching me.”
“I knew there had been concerns.”
“Concerns?”
Elio placed the photograph on the desk.
“A sniper put a round three inches from your daughter’s head tonight.”
Victoriao’s face tightened.
Janevra watched carefully.
Fear.
Real fear.
But beneath it was something worse.
Guilt.
“What did you do?” she whispered.
Victoriao sat.
For the first time in Janevra’s life, her father looked old.
“Your mother left something behind.”
Janevra’s anger disappeared.
“What?”
“Records.”
Her mother, Isabella, had died six years earlier.
Officially, a heart condition.
Janevra had believed it because everyone had told her to.
Victoriao rubbed his face.
“Your mother discovered money disappearing through companies connected to both families. She thought someone was stealing.”
“How much?”
“Almost eighty million dollars.”
Bruno swore quietly.
Elio remained still.
“Who?”
“I never found out.”
“Because you didn’t try,” Janevra said.
Her father looked at her.
“I tried more than you know.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Isabella hid the evidence.”
“Where?”
Victoriao’s answer came slowly.
“With you.”
Janevra stared.
“That makes no sense.”
“Your mother gave you a necklace before she died.”
Janevra instinctively touched her throat.
The small antique pendant had belonged to Isabella.
She wore it almost every day.
Elio’s eyes dropped toward it.
Janevra unclasped the chain.
Her fingers suddenly felt numb.
Victoriao took the pendant and pressed a nearly invisible mechanism along its side.
The back opened.
Inside was not a photograph.
It was a tiny storage device.
Janevra stopped breathing.
“My mother gave me this when I was sixteen.”
“I know.”
“And you knew?”
“I knew she had hidden something. I didn’t know where until last year.”
“How?”
“Daario found an old letter.”
Elio’s gaze sharpened.
“Daario?”
Victoriao nodded.
Janevra thought about the wedding.
Good breeding stock.
His laugh.
His eyes always lingering too long.
“Why was your cousin reading my mother’s letters?”
Elio did not answer.
Because he did not know.
Bruno took the device.
“I’ll get a clean laptop.”
“No network,” Elio said.
Minutes later, encrypted files appeared.
Ledgers.
Shipping manifests.
Photographs.
Bank transfers.
Janevra watched years of secrets unfold.
Her mother had been documenting a hidden financial network connecting shell corporations, warehouses, political donations, and stolen Vieira assets.
Then Bruno opened the final folder.
There was a video.
Janevra’s mother appeared on-screen.
Alive.
Six years younger.
Terrified.
Janevra gripped the desk.
“If you’re seeing this,” Isabella said, “then I failed to stop them.”
Janevra’s eyes filled.
Elio moved closer without touching her.
Isabella continued.
“Victoriao, if you found this, protect our daughter. Janevra, if it’s you…”
Her mother smiled sadly.
“My beautiful girl. I’m sorry.”
Janevra covered her mouth.
“I discovered a group operating inside both families. They are deliberately creating conflict between Moretti and Vieira interests while moving money through legitimate businesses. I don’t know everyone involved.”
Isabella looked toward something off-camera.
“But I know the man coordinating the accounts.”
The video distorted.
Then stabilized.
“His name is Carlo Vieira.”
Elio went completely still.
Janevra looked at him.
“Who is Carlo?”
Bruno answered.
“Elio’s father.”
The room changed.
Elio’s father had supposedly died eleven years earlier.
Janevra knew the story.
A car explosion.
Closed coffin.
A funeral attended by half of Chicago.
Elio stepped toward the screen.
“That’s impossible.”
Isabella continued.
“Carlo Vieira is alive.”
Nobody spoke.
“He has been building something outside the family structure for years. If he discovers I copied these files, I won’t survive.”
The video ended.
Janevra stared at the black screen.
Her mother had not died from a heart condition.
She knew it now.
Her father knew she knew.
“Was she murdered?”
Victoriao closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
The answer destroyed something inside her.
Janevra slapped him.
The sound cracked through the study.
Bruno turned away.
Elio said nothing.
“You lied to me for six years.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“No. You were protecting yourself.”
“I was protecting you!”
“By giving me to the son of the man who murdered my mother?”
Elio flinched.
Victoriao stood.
“I didn’t know Carlo was alive.”
“But you knew somebody killed her.”
“Yes.”
“And you still used me for an alliance.”
Victoriao had no answer.
Janevra backed away.
She could not breathe.
She turned and walked out.
“Janevra.”
Elio followed.
She reached the terrace before the tears came.
“Leave me alone.”
He stopped behind her.
For once, he obeyed.
He did not touch her.
He simply stood there.
Janevra stared across the dark gardens.
“My entire life is a lie.”
“No.”
She laughed bitterly.
“My mother’s death. My father. My marriage.”
“That part is true.”
She turned.
“What?”
Elio’s expression was unreadable.
“Our marriage began as an arrangement. That is true.”
“How comforting.”
“But what I said before the wedding…”
He stopped.
Janevra waited.
“I was wrong.”
The words seemed physically difficult for him.
“You’re not sheltered.”
“No.”
“You’re not weak.”
“No.”
“And you understand this world better than I wanted you to.”
She wiped her cheek.
“Why does that bother you?”
Elio looked away.
“Because people who understand this life know what men like me really are.”
There it was.
Not arrogance.
Shame.
Janevra had never expected shame from Elio Vieira.
“You think I’m afraid of you?”
“You should be.”
“I’m not.”
His eyes returned to hers.
“That,” he said quietly, “is becoming a problem.”
Before Janevra could answer, Bruno rushed onto the terrace.
“Elio.”
Something in his voice made them both turn.
“The man we captured is dead.”
Elio’s expression hardened.
“How?”
“Poison.”
“Someone got into the holding room?”
Bruno shook his head.
“No.”
He held up a photograph from the security camera.
“The poison was delivered by one of our own guards.”
Janevra looked at the image.
She recognized him immediately.
The guard had worked at the Vieira estate since before her wedding.
Elio looked toward the house.
A terrible realization passed between them.
May you like
Their enemy was not outside the gates.
He was already inside.
