Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
Luca Moretti had buried his younger brother in a closed coffin.
Now he was staring at a photograph of that same brother standing beside his fiancée.
For six years, Luca had carried the guilt of Matteo's death.
He had paid for the funeral.
He had stood beside their father while Antonio wept.
He had even ordered the marble headstone himself.
And now Matteo was alive.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Dr. Keller's voice barely registered.
Luca enlarged the photograph on his phone.
The scar was unmistakable.
Matteo had gotten it when he was twelve, after falling from the old estate's stone garden wall.
Luca had been the one who carried him home.
“Where is Isabella?” Luca asked again.
Keller glanced toward Helen.
“Perhaps we should speak privately.”
“No.”
Luca stepped closer.
“You're going to answer me right here.”
Keller sighed.
“Your wife came to this hospital three years ago under another name.”
“Who brought her?”
“I can't disclose—”
Luca slammed his palm against the desk.
“MY WIFE HAS BEEN MISSING FOR THREE YEARS!”
Helen flinched.
Keller's composure cracked.
“She came voluntarily.”
“Then why did she disappear?”
“Because she believed someone was going to kill you.”
Luca stopped.
Keller continued carefully.
“She arrived with documents suggesting your family's financial operations had been compromised. She was terrified.”
“By whom?”
“I never learned the full story.”
“Did she tell you Matteo was alive?”
The doctor's face changed.
It was only a flicker.
But Luca saw it.
“You know my brother.”
Keller looked toward the door.
“Mr. Moretti, you should leave.”
Luca reached for his phone.
“Caleb, I want someone watching every exit. Dr. Keller isn't going anywhere until we speak to the police.”
Keller's eyes widened.
“You don't understand what you're dealing with.”
“Then explain it.”
The doctor lowered his voice.
“Your brother wasn't the only person who survived that fire.”
Before Luca could ask another question, Keller's phone rang.
The doctor glanced at the screen.
His face went white.
He declined the call.
It rang again.
Luca looked at the display.
V. STERLING.
“Answer it,” Luca said.
Keller hesitated.
“Put it on speaker.”
The doctor obeyed.
Vanessa's voice filled the room.
“Adrian, did he find the compartment?”
Nobody spoke.
“Adrian?”
Keller closed his eyes.
Then Vanessa said something that made Luca's blood turn cold.
“Tell me Isabella didn't leave the second photograph.”
Luca snatched the phone.
“Which photograph, Vanessa?”
Silence.
Then a sharp intake of breath.
“Luca?”
“Where is Matteo?”
Vanessa began crying.
“Please don't go near him.”
“You told me he was dead.”
“I never told you that.”
“You stood beside me at his grave!”
“I didn't know you then!”
Luca froze.
Vanessa was right.
He had met her two years after Matteo's supposed death.
He had been so consumed by grief that he hadn't noticed how quickly she learned everything about his family.
“Then when did you meet him?”
Vanessa's answer came in a whisper.
“Before I met you.”
The call disconnected.
Luca turned toward Keller.
“Start talking.”
Keller sat down.
“Six years ago, Matteo was brought here after the warehouse fire. He had burns, smoke inhalation, and a head injury.”
“Why wasn't I notified?”
“He arrived under an assumed name.”
“Who arranged that?”
“Your father.”
Luca stared.
“My father believed Matteo had died.”
Keller shook his head.
“No. Your father arranged for him to disappear.”
For a moment, Luca couldn't move.
Antonio Moretti had spent years telling Luca that Matteo's death was the greatest tragedy of their family.
He had cried at the funeral.
He had visited the grave every Sunday.
Had all of it been a lie?
“Why?”
Keller hesitated.
“Matteo had discovered someone was stealing from the family's legitimate businesses and using the money to finance illegal shipments. The people responsible tried to kill him.”
“Who?”
“I don't know everyone involved.”
“Did Isabella know?”
“Not at first.”
Keller rubbed his forehead.
“Three years later, she discovered something in your father's private records. Something that connected the fire to people still working around you.”
“And she came here?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't she tell me?”
Keller looked ashamed.
“She tried.”
Luca remembered Isabella's letter.
Someone intercepted my messages.
“Who stopped her?”
Keller looked at the floor.
“I was told she had become a danger to herself.”
“By Vanessa?”
“Vanessa presented documents showing Isabella was experiencing severe paranoia. I accepted them.”
“You accepted them without speaking to her husband?”
“She said you were the person Isabella feared.”
Luca stared at him.
Keller's voice grew quieter.
“Afterward, I realized the records had been altered.”
“Did you report it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because my daughter was threatened.”
The admission hung between them.
Luca wanted to grab the man.
Instead, he stepped away.
Anger would not bring Isabella home.
Evidence might.
“Where is she now?”
“I don't know.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Four months ago.”
“The day that photograph was taken?”
Keller nodded.
“She returned to collect something Margaret Ellis had been keeping.”
“What?”
“A second photograph.”
Luca felt his stomach tighten.
“Of whom?”
“Your father.”
Luca frowned.
“Why would Isabella need a photograph of Antonio?”
Keller looked toward Helen.
Then back at Luca.
“Because it showed him meeting someone the night before he died.”
“Who?”
Keller's voice was barely audible.
“Your fiancée.”
Luca stared.
His father had died eighteen months earlier.
Vanessa had been with Luca for nearly a year at the time.
Antonio had never trusted her.
He had repeatedly warned Luca not to marry her.
But Luca had dismissed his objections as an old man's suspicion.
Now he remembered Antonio's final hospital visit.
His father had grabbed his wrist and whispered:
Don't sign anything she gives you.
Luca had assumed he was confused by medication.
What if Antonio had been trying to warn him?
His phone rang.
Caleb again.
“Boss, we've got a problem.”
“What happened?”
“Vanessa left the estate. Matteo stayed behind.”
“Keep eyes on him.”
“We tried.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone disabled the security cameras. By the time we got inside, he was gone.”
Luca swore.
“Find him.”
“There's something you need to see first.”
A photograph arrived.
It showed the inside of Antonio's old study.
A desk drawer had been pulled open.
Documents littered the floor.
And on the wall, written in thick black marker, were seven words.
LUCA, ASK YOUR WIFE ABOUT THE FIRST FIRE.
Luca stared at the message.
“The first fire?”
Keller stood suddenly.
“What did you say?”
Luca turned.
“You know something?”
The doctor looked terrified.
“There were two fires, Mr. Moretti.”
Luca's heart began pounding.
“What?”
“The warehouse fire six years ago wasn't the beginning.”
Keller swallowed.
“Three years before that, there was a fire at a private residence in Connecticut.”
“What does that have to do with Isabella?”
The doctor hesitated.
Then spoke.
“Because your wife was the only surviving witness.”
Luca slowly lowered his phone.
He had known Isabella for eleven years.
They had been married for eight.
She had told him about her childhood, her parents, her dreams.
But never about a fire in Connecticut.
“Who died?” he asked.
Keller looked at him.
“That's the part you won't believe.”
“Tell me.”
The doctor whispered:
“The woman who died in that house was registered as Isabella Moretti.”
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And Luca realized he might not even know his wife's real name.
Continue to Chapter 4: Who was the woman Luca married—and why had someone else died using her identity?
