Chapter 2 - The Ghost in the Security CamerasThe first thing Elena noticed was that the mansion had too many cameras.
The second was that someone had deliberately left one corridor unprotected.
She stood beneath a Renaissance painting, her right arm supported against her ribs, studying the hallway that connected the west wing to the private library. Two cameras covered the staircase. Another watched the servants' entrance. But the narrow passage beside the library had no visible surveillance.
It was not an oversight.
Someone had created a blind spot.
“You shouldn't be down here.”
Elena turned.
Dante stood at the far end of the corridor, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway.
“Neither should someone who just had surgery,” he added.
“I needed a walk.”
“Then walk in the garden.”
“Does the garden have cameras?”
His expression changed.
“Why?”
Elena nodded toward the corridor.
“Because whoever designed your security system made a mistake.”
Dante followed her gaze.
“That corridor is monitored.”
“Not from here. The camera above the painting covers the stairs, and the one by the library points toward the front entrance. There's a gap between them.”
Dante said nothing.
Elena continued.
“If somebody knew the timing, they could move from the servants' entrance to the library without being recorded.”
“Who taught you to notice things like that?”
She looked away.
“Someone who didn't like being surprised.”
Before Dante could question her further, Lorenzo appeared behind him.
He wore a dark suit with the jacket unbuttoned. His face looked exhausted, but his eyes were immediately alert.
“What happened?”
Dante explained.
Lorenzo studied the hallway.
Then he turned to Elena.
“Show me.”
She hesitated.
“Enzo, I'm not feeling particularly useful right now.”
“Show me anyway.”
Elena walked slowly toward the library, explaining how the angles overlapped everywhere except a narrow strip beside the door.
Lorenzo listened without interruption.
When she finished, he took out his phone.
“Dante, have the security team review every camera in this wing. And find out who approved the last modifications.”
Dante left.
Lorenzo remained beside Elena.
“You've been studying my house.”
“I've been trapped inside it.”
“You could have asked for a tour.”
“Would your guards have shown me the security system?”
For the first time that evening, he almost smiled.
Then he noticed her trembling hand.
“You're hurting.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're lying.”
“I'm standing.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He guided her toward a nearby chair.
She sat reluctantly.
Lorenzo crouched in front of her, maintaining enough distance that she could move away.
“Dr. Aris said you should be resting.”
“Dr. Aris doesn't have people trying to murder him.”
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
“No. But I do.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Elena asked the question she had been avoiding.
“What happened to the driver?”
Lorenzo watched her carefully.
“Why?”
“Because he saw the shooter.”
“He claims he never saw the man's face.”
“Did he describe a tattoo?”
The silence changed.
Lorenzo stood.
“What tattoo?”
Elena immediately regretted speaking.
“I don't know.”
“You just asked.”
She looked toward the dark windows.
“Maybe I saw something.”
“Where?”
“In the Navigator. When it pulled away.”
“What did you see?”
She swallowed.
“A black snake wrapped around a broken crown.”
Lorenzo went completely still.
He knew that symbol.
Seven years earlier, a private security contractor operating in Nevada had used the same insignia. The company had disappeared after a federal investigation into weapons trafficking and several unexplained deaths.
Its name had been Black Crown Security.
And one of its former executives now worked for Lorenzo.
Dante.
Lorenzo kept his expression neutral.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen that symbol before?”
Elena looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
She lowered her eyes.
“On my father's wrist.”
The words seemed to drain the air from the room.
Lorenzo pulled a chair opposite her.
“Your father was a construction worker.”
“That's what the records say.”
“And what do you say?”
“That my father knew how to make people disappear.”
Lorenzo waited.
Elena's voice became quieter.
“When I was twelve, men started coming to our trailer after midnight. They wore suits, carried briefcases, and never used real names. My father would make me stay in my bedroom.”
“What were they doing?”
“I don't know everything. But I remember one conversation.”
She stared at her hands.
“A man told my father that a family in New York had become a problem.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“What family?”
“I didn't hear.”
“Did you recognize the man's voice?”
“No.”
She hesitated.
“But I remember what my father called him.”
Lorenzo leaned forward.
“What?”
“The Prince.”
Something cold moved through Lorenzo's chest.
For years, that nickname had belonged to only one man.
His younger brother.
Matteo Moretti.
Matteo had died in a warehouse fire nine years earlier.
At least, that was what Lorenzo had been told.
Before he could respond, Dante returned.
His face was pale.
“Boss, we found something.”
Lorenzo stood.
“What?”
“The security changes were authorized through your personal account.”
“I never authorized them.”
“I know.”
Dante hesitated.
“And there's something else.”
He handed Lorenzo a tablet.
The screen displayed footage from a camera outside Elena's bedroom.
At 2:17 that morning, a figure wearing a medical coat entered the hallway.
The person paused outside her door.
Then carefully placed something beneath it.
Lorenzo enlarged the image.
A small white envelope.
Elena's face drained of color.
She had found that envelope when she woke.
And hidden it beneath her mattress.
Lorenzo turned toward her.
“What was in it?”
She could barely speak.
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
“My mother.”
Lorenzo stared.
Elena's next words came out as a whisper.
“She was standing beside your father.”
May you like
And on the back of the photograph, someone had written:
Your mother didn't die. She was murdered because she knew what happened to the Moretti family.
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