Chapter 8 - The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Rain fell over the cemetery.
Luca walked between the graves with Clara beside him.
Behind them, Marco protected Isabella inside an armored vehicle.
They reached the family mausoleum.
The door was open.
Luca pushed it.
Inside, a woman stood beside his father's grave.
She turned.
His mother.
Alive.
Luca stared at her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she smiled.
“My son.”
Luca's voice was barely audible.
“You're dead.”
“So everyone believes.”
“You let me bury an empty coffin?”
“I had no choice.”
“You had every choice.”
She lowered her head.
“Your father was worse than you knew.”
Luca stepped closer.
“You worked with Victor.”
“Yes.”
“You helped Adrian.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
“Did you help kill Elena?”
“No.”
Luca raised his gun.
His mother didn't move.
“Then who did?”
“Adrian ordered it.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena discovered the ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The one your father created.”
She pulled a small metal key from her pocket.
“The original records are hidden beneath the family cemetery.”
Clara frowned.
“Why would Elena know?”
“She found them.”
“Then why didn't she tell Luca?”
His mother looked at Clara.
“Because she didn't know who Luca had become.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“What does that mean?”
“You were becoming like your father.”
Silence.
His mother continued.
“Elena was afraid that if she told you the truth, you would kill everyone involved before she could expose them.”
Luca looked away.
It hurt because he knew there was truth in it.
His mother handed him the key.
“The ledger proves everything.”
“Where?”
“Under your father's grave.”
They returned to the mausoleum.
Luca opened a hidden compartment.
Inside was a metal box.
The ledger was there.
Names.
Payments.
Murder orders.
Judicial bribes.
Police protection.
And finally—
Elena's name.
Beside it was Adrian's signature.
Luca's hands trembled.
But there was one more page.
A handwritten note from Elena.
If Luca finds this, tell him I never stopped loving him. I only feared what grief would turn him into.
Luca closed his eyes.
For three years, he had believed his wife's last thought was fear.
It had been love.
Then Isabella appeared beside him.
She held a photograph.
“Daddy.”
He turned.
She handed it to him.
It showed Elena, pregnant, standing beside a younger Luca.
On the back were words:
For the family we almost lost.
Luca knelt.
He pulled Isabella into his arms.
“I am sorry.”
She cried against his shoulder.
“I thought you were bad.”
“I was angry.”
“Are you still angry?”
Luca shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I found you.”
Isabella hugged him.
Clara watched from the doorway.
For the first time, Luca looked less like the feared man of Chicago.
He looked like a father.
Then a gunshot shattered the silence.
His mother fell.
Luca caught her.
“Mom!”
She gasped.
“Adrian…”
Clara ran outside.
A black car sped away.
Luca looked at the road.
Then at his mother.
She whispered,
“He's going after the house.”
“What house?”
“Your house.”
Luca's face changed.
“The penthouse?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
She pointed toward Isabella.
“The estate.”
Luca understood.
Adrian wasn't running away.
May you like
He was returning for the final piece of evidence.
And Isabella was the only person who knew where it was.
