Chapter 4 - MY FATHER'S WARNING
The envelope remained unopened for twenty minutes.
I stared at my father’s handwriting until the letters blurred.
Liam sat beside me.
Gabriel stood near the window watching the street.
Eventually, I slid my finger beneath the seal.
Inside was one folded page and a small brass key.
The letter began with the name I had not heard from my father’s voice in seven years.
Lizzie.
I stopped breathing for a moment.
Then I forced myself to continue.
My father wrote that he had discovered a network of shell companies moving millions of dollars through construction contracts, charities, pension funds, and offshore accounts.
Some companies were connected to Vitali Holdings.
But the letter made one fact painfully clear.
Vittorio Vitali had not ordered the scheme.
He had discovered it.
And he had secretly hired my father to identify who inside his company was stealing from him.
The investigation pointed to Matteo Vitali.
According to my father, Vittorio planned to confront his younger brother.
He never got the chance.
Vittorio died first.
My father wrote one final warning.
If Vittorio dies before this is resolved, assume Matteo knows.
I covered my mouth.
Liam read over my shoulder.
Gabriel remained silent.
The final paragraph hurt the most.
If anything happens to your mother and me, do not seek revenge.
Survive.
Build the life we wanted for you.
And one day, if the truth becomes safe enough to tell, tell it.
I folded the letter.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then I looked at Gabriel.
“You knew.”
“Parts of it.”
“You knew Matteo was dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my father was helping Vittorio.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing for seven years.”
“I was following Vittorio’s orders.”
“My parents are dead.”
“I know.”
“My best friend’s father is dead.”
“I know.”
I stood.
“Stop saying that.”
Gabriel’s face remained calm, but grief briefly crossed it.
“You are entitled to hate me.”
“I don’t have time to hate you.”
I held up the brass key.
“What does this open?”
“I don’t know.”
Liam stared at him.
“You expect us to believe that?”
“Vittorio never told me.”
A horn sounded outside.
Gabriel moved to the window.
The black sedan was gone.
That should have made me feel safer.
It did the opposite.
“Where is Alessandro?”
I asked.
“At his office.”
“Does he know you came here?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know why?”
“Not everything.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So everyone keeps secrets from everyone.”
“That has kept people alive.”
“It also got people killed.”
Gabriel did not argue.
I looked down at the key.
My father had once rented a safe-deposit box under my mother’s maiden name.
After their deaths, Patrick checked it.
It had been empty.
But there was another place.
A train station locker.
When I was little, my father used to take me into downtown Chicago every December.
We always stopped inside Union Station.
He had shown me the old brass lockers once and told me people used to trust keys more than computers.
My head snapped up.
“I know where this goes.”
Liam understood instantly.
“Union Station?”
“Maybe.”
Gabriel reached for his phone.
“We should take security.”
“No.”
“Miss Shaw.”
“If Matteo has people watching Alessandro, walking into Union Station with Vitali security would announce exactly what we’re doing.”
Gabriel studied me.
Then he nodded once.
“You think like your father.”
The compliment hurt.
Liam grabbed his jacket.
“We leave separately.”
An hour later, we entered Union Station through different doors.
The brass key fit locker 314.
My fingers shook as I turned it.
Inside was a plain brown document case.
No money.
No photographs.
No dramatic confession.
Just an old flash drive and a note.
Liam reached for the drive.
I stopped him.
There was handwriting on the note.
Not my father’s.
Vittorio Vitali’s.
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, MATTEO HAS ALREADY WON ONCE.
DO NOT LET HIM WIN AGAIN.
Below those words was a list of four names.
Thomas Shaw.
Patrick Carter.
Vittorio Vitali.
And Alessandro Vitali.
My chest tightened.
Three names belonged to dead men.
One did not.
Then a shadow crossed the locker door.
May you like
A man behind us whispered into a phone.
“She found it.”
