Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW MY BROTHER
Elena Bennett sat in the conservatory beside a grand piano, holding her daughter so tightly that Mia eventually complained.
“Mommy, squishy.”
Elena loosened her arms.
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
I stopped in the doorway.
The room smelled of lemon trees and rain.
Mia saw me first.
“Uncle Luca!”
She ran toward me.
I crouched.
“Hello, boss.”
She giggled.
“I'm still boss?”
“Until someone defeats you in a fair election.”
She considered that.
“No.”
I laughed.
Then looked at Elena.
“We need to talk.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Please don't do this in front of Mia.”
“I won't.”
Mrs. Alvarez, my elderly housekeeper, offered to take Mia into the adjoining playroom.
Elena hesitated.
I waited.
Finally, she nodded.
When the door closed, I pulled a chair across from her.
“Tell me what Vincent and Daniel have been doing.”
She stared at her hands.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because they'll hurt my daughter.”
I leaned forward.
“Elena, I can help you.”
Her eyes flashed.
“Your men are the ones hurting us.”
The words struck harder than a punch.
She was right.
Whatever Vincent and Daniel had done, they'd done it under my roof.
Using my authority.
My reputation.
My silence.
I looked down.
“Then I need to know.”
Elena took a long breath.
“My husband was named Thomas Bennett.”
I nodded.
“I know he's deceased.”
She shook her head.
“That's what the paperwork says.”
I went still.
“What?”
“He disappeared four years ago.”
I stared.
She continued.
“He was a financial investigator. He worked for a private auditing firm that reviewed transactions connected to shipping companies.”
“Which companies?”
She looked at me.
“Some belonged to the Moretti organization.”
My jaw tightened.
“Go on.”
“Thomas found payments to a private facility in upstate New York. He believed people were being held there under false identities.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What people?”
“He didn't know how many.”
Elena swallowed.
“But he found one name.”
I already knew.
Before she said it, I knew.
“Matteo Moretti.”
My hands went numb.
Elena began crying.
“Thomas tried to contact you.”
I stared.
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
I remembered that year.
A violent dispute over the docks.
A series of attacks.
Vincent telling me that security had intercepted multiple threats.
Daniel insisting I stop accepting unscheduled meetings.
I looked at Elena.
“What happened to Thomas?”
“He went to meet someone who claimed to have information about Matteo.”
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“He never came home.”
For four years, Elena had searched.
She'd filed missing-person reports.
Contacted investigators.
Sold almost everything she owned.
Then, three months earlier, someone left an envelope beneath her apartment door.
Inside was a photograph of Thomas.
Alive.
Standing outside a building with barred windows.
On the back were four words.
Work for Luca Moretti.
Elena had applied for a position in my mansion.
Within weeks, Vincent and Daniel discovered why she was there.
They began threatening her.
Demanding to know what Thomas had found.
And warning her never to speak to me.
I stared at the bruises on her wrist.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
She laughed bitterly.
“Because every time I tried to reach you, one of them appeared.”
I had no answer.
Elena looked toward the playroom.
“My daughter thinks you're a hero.”
Her voice broke.
“I don't know whether she's right.”
I sat silently.
May you like
Then said:
“Neither do I.”
