Chapter 4 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Luca's father had been declared dead nine years earlier.
A car explosion.
No body recovered.
DNA confirmation from fragments.
Funeral.
Closed coffin.
End of story.
Except it wasn't.
Elena spent the entire night studying the records.
By sunrise, she had found something.
"Your father's death certificate was signed by Dr. Marcus Venn."
Luca looked up.
"Who?"
"Medical examiner."
"He's retired."
"No."
Elena turned her laptop.
"He's listed as deceased."
Luca's expression changed.
"How?"
"He died six months ago."
"Convenient."
"Too convenient."
They traced Venn's history.
He had performed autopsies for dozens of organized-crime victims.
Then disappeared.
But Elena found a pattern.
Every time a major mafia figure supposedly died, Venn had been involved.
And every body was missing something.
The fingerprints.
The teeth.
Sometimes the face.
Elena stared at the screen.
"They weren't identifying bodies."
Luca understood.
"They were creating identities."
Someone had built a system for making dead men legally alive.
And living men legally dead.
It was bigger than organized crime.
It was an identity market.
Politicians could disappear.
Witnesses could be reborn under new names.
Criminals could fake their deaths.
Even billionaires could erase themselves.
Belladonna was merely the meeting point.
Luca sat quietly.
"My father built this."
"Yes."
"Then who runs it now?"
Elena looked at him.
"Maybe he does."
Luca shook his head.
"He'd be seventy-two."
"People survive."
"He wouldn't come after me."
"Why?"
"Because he knows I would kill him."
Elena studied him.
"Would you?"
Luca didn't answer.
Then the restaurant's old telephone rang.
Nobody used it.
Luca picked up.
A distorted voice spoke.
"Hello, son."
Luca froze.
Elena heard the voice through the receiver.
It was calm.
Old.
Almost affectionate.
Luca whispered:
"Father?"
A quiet laugh.
"You always were the stubborn one."
The line went dead.
Luca remained still.
Elena watched him.
"What did he say?"
Luca looked at her.
"He wants us to come to the old opera house."
"When?"
"Tonight."
"That's a trap."
"I know."
"Then why go?"
Luca's eyes hardened.
"Because my father has something I need."
"What?"
"My brother."
Elena froze.
"Daniel?"
"No."
Luca's voice became quiet.
"My younger brother."
Elena stared.
"You have another brother?"
"He died when he was fourteen."
She understood.
"Or you thought he died."
Luca nodded.
That afternoon they prepared.
Not with an army.
With two cars.
Five men.
And Elena.
She refused to stay behind.
At sunset, Luca stood beside her.
"You don't have to do this."
She looked at him.
"Neither do you."
He smiled.
"Fair."
They entered the abandoned opera house at 10:00 p.m.
The stage lights turned on.
One by one.
Then a man stepped from behind the curtain.
Gray hair.
Black suit.
Walking cane.
Luca stopped.
Elena felt his entire body tense.
The man smiled.
"Hello, son."
Luca raised his gun.
His father spread his arms.
"You've grown."
Luca's voice was ice.
"You're dead."
His father smiled.
"Only on paper."
Then the theater doors slammed shut.
And dozens of armed men stepped from the balconies.
Elena whispered:
"There's no way out."
Luca looked at her.
"There is always a way out."
She stared at him.
"How?"
He pointed toward the stage.
"The theater was built before the city."
"And?"
"The architect was Italian."
May you like
Luca smiled.
"That means there are tunnels."
