Chapter 8 - Blood in the Past
Alessandro listened to the recording twice.
He showed no emotion.
That frightened me more than rage would have.
When the second playback ended, he placed the phone on his desk.
“David may be alive.”
“You heard that shot.”
“I also heard no confirmation.”
“He said Matteo was sold.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“I heard him.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Did your father?”
His eyes flashed.
“My father died believing Matteo was taken by rivals.”
“How?”
“Heart attack.”
I stared.
“You believe that?”
“I did.”
“And now?”
He looked toward the window.
“Now I believe very little.”
The study door opened.
The scarred security man entered.
Alessandro introduced him as Enzo Russo.
Enzo placed a folder on the desk.
“We traced the call.”
“Warehouse district.”
“Phone was destroyed before we arrived.”
“Blood?”
“Some.”
“Body?”
“No.”
David might still be alive.
I wasn’t sure whether that relieved me.
Enzo opened the folder.
“There is more.”
Inside were old records.
Shipping manifests.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
All from twenty-eight years earlier.
One picture showed my grandmother standing beside a much younger Lucia Vitale.
Between them stood two boys.
Alessandro.
And Matteo.
My throat tightened.
I had never seen Sofia look like that.
Not old.
Not tired.
She was young.
Alert.
Protective.
Her hand rested on Alessandro’s shoulder.
Another photo showed her arguing with a man I didn’t recognize.
Alessandro did.
“My uncle Vittorio.”
“Your father’s brother?”
“Yes.”
Enzo slid forward a photocopied ledger.
The night Matteo disappeared, a private aircraft owned by a shell company left for Sicily.
The shell company had been controlled by Vittorio.
I looked at Alessandro.
“Did anyone investigate him?”
“My father trusted his brother.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
He looked furious now.
“Apparently nobody investigated him enough.”
I studied the records.
One name kept appearing beside Vittorio’s.
Charles Bell.
“Who is Bell?”
Enzo answered.
“Charles Bellandi.”
“Financial adviser.”
“Money launderer.”
“Deceased.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
The same year Elena died.
I looked at Alessandro.
He saw the connection too.
Enzo continued.
“Bellandi had a son.”
“Adrian.”
“Current whereabouts unknown.”
“Could Adrian be behind Lumina?”
“Possible.”
I pointed at one document.
“What is Green Eye?”
Both men looked at me.
The phrase appeared in Sofia’s handwriting.
GREEN EYE - ONLY IF BOTH SONS ARE LOST.
My pulse began to race.
“She wrote it.”
Alessandro stepped closer.
Below those words was an address.
An old bank branch downtown.
And a safe-deposit number.
Enzo exhaled.
“The ring may be a key.”
“No,” I whispered.
They looked at me.
I remembered the strange hinge under the emerald.
The tiny mechanism David never noticed.
“My grandmother used to open the setting with a sewing needle.”
“There was something inside.”
Alessandro leaned forward.
“What?”
“I was a child.”
“I thought it was decoration.”
“But there was a little metal piece.”
His gaze sharpened.
“A key.”
I nodded.
The room fell silent.
Then Enzo’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face darkened immediately.
“What happened?”
May you like
He looked at Alessandro.
“Lumina is on fire.”
