Chapter 3 - The Brother Who Never Came Home
Alexander did not sleep.
Sophia knew because neither did she.
By sunrise, the penthouse had transformed into a command center. Security men moved through rooms with phones pressed to their ears. Laptop screens displayed traffic-camera images. Dominic coordinated teams from the dining room while Alexander stood before the windows with the stillness Sophia had learned to fear.
Someone had threatened her.
That frightened Sophia.
What frightened her more was Alexander’s reaction.
He blamed himself.
“You need to tell me about your brother,” she said.
Alexander did not turn.
“You already know enough.”
“I know Matteo died after a rival family betrayed him.”
“That is enough.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He finally faced her.
Sophia wore one of his white shirts over the black dress because her overnight bag had not arrived yet. Alexander had noticed when she entered the room.
He had immediately looked away.
Even under threat, apparently, the dress remained a problem.
“Someone used Matteo’s death to threaten me,” she said. “That makes it my business.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“Sit down.”
She did.
For once, so did he.
Matteo Moretti had been Alexander’s younger brother by eleven years.
Where Alexander had been disciplined, Matteo had been impulsive. Charming. Reckless. Loved by everyone.
Six years earlier, Matteo had secretly negotiated peace with a rival organization controlled by Victor Serrano.
The meeting was supposed to end years of violence.
Instead, someone leaked Matteo’s route.
His car was ambushed.
Matteo died before Alexander reached the hospital.
“Victor Serrano ordered it?” Sophia asked.
“I believed he did.”
“Believed?”
Alexander’s eyes hardened.
“Serrano was killed eight months later.”
“You?”
Alexander said nothing.
She understood.
“But the threat says I pay for Matteo.”
“Yes.”
“Which means somebody believes you killed the wrong person.”
Alexander leaned back.
“Or somebody wants me to believe that.”
Dominic entered carrying a tablet.
“We found the sedan.”
“Driver?”
“Gone. Vehicle stolen yesterday.”
“Prints?”
“Being checked.”
Dominic hesitated.
Alexander noticed.
“What else?”
“There was another envelope.”
Sophia stood.
“Where?”
“Inside the car.”
Dominic handed it to Alexander.
This photograph was older.
Matteo Moretti stood outside a Chicago courthouse beside a young woman Sophia did not recognize.
On the back:
ASK HIM WHO REALLY BETRAYED MATTEO.
Sophia looked at Alexander.
He had gone pale.
“You know her.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
Dominic quietly left.
Alexander rose.
“Sophia—”
“Four years.”
“What?”
“I have spent four years protecting your schedule, your business, your secrets, your family. Someone nearly ran me over because of something connected to your brother, and you are still lying to me.”
“I am trying to protect you.”
“Then start by respecting me enough to tell me the truth.”
Alexander looked at the photograph again.
Finally, he spoke.
“Her name was Elena Rossi.”
“Was?”
“She disappeared two days after Matteo died.”
“Who was she?”
“Matteo’s fiancée.”
Sophia stared.
“You never told me he was engaged.”
“Nobody knew.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena was Victor Serrano’s niece.”
Everything shifted.
The forbidden relationship had threatened both families.
Matteo had believed marriage could end the conflict.
Alexander had opposed it.
“I told him Serrano would use her against him,” Alexander admitted. “Matteo told me I had spent so long expecting betrayal that I had forgotten how to recognize loyalty.”
“And then he died.”
“Yes.”
“Did you blame Elena?”
“I blamed everyone.”
Including himself.
Sophia saw that without needing to ask.
“Was Elena in the car?”
“No.”
“Where was she?”
Alexander looked toward the skyline.
“She was supposed to meet Matteo at the hospital after the negotiations.”
“But?”
“She never arrived.”
“Maybe she was taken.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe she’s alive.”
Alexander’s eyes returned to hers.
“That possibility is why you’re not leaving this building.”
Sophia almost argued.
Then Dominic returned.
This time he looked shaken.
“We identified one print from the envelope.”
Alexander stood.
“Whose?”
Dominic looked at Sophia first.
Then Alexander.
“Elena Rossi.”
Silence.
Alexander took the tablet.
The fingerprint matched a print from Elena’s old Illinois driver’s-license record.
Sophia felt a chill.
“If she’s alive, why threaten me?”
Alexander’s expression hardened.
“I don’t know.”
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone stopped.
Alexander answered on speaker.
No voice came at first.
Only breathing.
Then a woman spoke.
Older than Sophia expected.
“Alexander.”
His face changed.
“Elena?”
A small laugh.
“You finally remember me.”
“Where are you?”
“You always ask the wrong question.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to remember what your brother discovered the night he died.”
Alexander gripped the phone.
“What are you talking about?”
“Matteo wasn’t killed because he loved me.”
“Then why?”
“Because he found the traitor sitting at your own table.”
Alexander looked toward Dominic.
Dominic stiffened.
Elena continued.
“And now the same man has noticed Sophia.”
Alexander’s voice became deadly quiet.
“If you touch her—”
“I didn’t send the car.”
That stopped him.
“Then who did?”
“The man who killed Matteo.”
Sophia stepped closer.
“Why send the photographs?”
A pause.
“So you’d finally listen.”
Alexander looked at Sophia.
Elena whispered one final sentence.
“He has been beside you for years.”
The call ended.
Dominic immediately began tracing it.
Sophia stared around the penthouse.
At the guards.
The employees.
The men Alexander trusted.
Then she remembered something.
A detail from six years of archived schedules she had reorganized when she first took the job.
The night Matteo died, Alexander had been scheduled to attend the peace meeting too.
But somebody had changed his calendar.
Sophia walked toward Alexander’s office.
“Sophia?”
She did not stop.
She opened his computer.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding out who saved your life.”
Alexander frowned.
She accessed the archived executive calendar.
There it was.
Original appointment: Alexander and Matteo Moretti — 8:00 p.m.
Modified appointment: Matteo Moretti only.
Modification timestamp: 4:16 p.m.
Alexander came behind her.
“Who changed it?”
Sophia opened the audit record.
Her stomach dropped.
The username belonged to someone still employed at Moretti Holdings.
Someone who had worked for Alexander longer than Sophia.
Someone who had brought flowers to Matteo’s funeral.
Sophia whispered the name.
“Richard Vale.”
Alexander stepped back.
Richard was not a soldier.
He was Alexander’s chief financial officer.
And his oldest friend.
Then Sophia noticed a second entry.
Richard had accessed Alexander’s calendar again yesterday.
At 5:42 p.m.
May you like
Eighteen minutes before Sophia walked into Alexander’s office wearing the black dress.
He had known exactly where she was going.
