Chapter 3 - The Tunnel Beneath the Mansion
The maintenance tunnel was barely wide enough for Lorenzo’s shoulders.
Emma walked between us holding my hand.
“Are there spiders?”
“Yes,” Lorenzo said.
I glared at him.
“No.”
Emma looked suspiciously at both of us.
“Mr. Lorenzo said yes.”
“Mr. Lorenzo has lost a lot of blood.”
“Does blood make you see spiders?”
Lorenzo said, “Enormous ones.”
“Stop helping.”
For thirty seconds, the terror disappeared.
Then voices sounded behind us.
The hidden room had been discovered.
“Door!”
Marco.
Lorenzo killed our flashlight.
“Run.”
We moved through darkness.
The tunnel split.
“Left,” Lorenzo whispered.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
“Fantastic.”
We went left.
Behind us, someone shouted.
A gunshot cracked.
Stone splintered beside Lorenzo.
Emma screamed.
I grabbed her and ran.
Lorenzo shoved a rusted iron gate closed behind us and dropped the locking bar.
Marco appeared on the opposite side.
For the first time, Lorenzo saw his betrayer.
Marco’s face changed.
“Boss.”
Lorenzo leaned against the wall.
“Disappointed?”
Marco lowered his weapon.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“Isabella said you were destroying everything your father built.”
Lorenzo laughed once.
“You shot me because my fiancée gave you a business opinion?”
“She has proof you were going legitimate.”
“I am going legitimate.”
Marco’s face twisted.
“Exactly.”
Lorenzo looked almost amused.
“You tried to murder me because I wanted to stop laundering money through construction contracts?”
“You were dismantling the family.”
“No. I was keeping us out of prison.”
Marco stepped toward the gate.
“Give me the recorder.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
So did Marco.
He understood.
“The maid has it.”
Emma hugged my leg.
Marco raised the gun.
Lorenzo moved between us.
“Shoot through that gate and you might hit the child.”
Marco hesitated.
That hesitation saved us.
Lorenzo whispered, “Go.”
We ran.
The tunnel ended behind a wine rack in the mansion cellar.
Lorenzo pushed it open.
We emerged into darkness.
“Where now?” I asked.
“My father’s office.”
“Why?”
“Because that recorder proves conspiracy. It doesn’t prove who else is involved.”
“And you think your father’s office does?”
“My father trusted paper more than people.”
We climbed the servants’ stairs.
Halfway up, Lorenzo stopped.
His face had gone gray.
“Sit.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
He collapsed onto the step.
I checked the dressing.
Blood.
Too much.
“You need a hospital.”
“Later.”
“There may not be a later.”
Emma touched his cheek.
“You’re cold.”
He looked at her.
“I’m okay.”
“No.”
She frowned.
“You’re lying.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“She gets that from you?”
“Unfortunately.”
I tightened the compression dressing.
He grunted.
“Sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“No.”
We reached his father’s office.
Locked.
Lorenzo entered a code.
Wrong.
Again.
Wrong.
Emma wandered toward a portrait.
“Who’s that?”
“My father.”
“He looks mad.”
“He usually was.”
She pointed.
“He has the same ring.”
Lorenzo looked.
In the portrait, his father wore a black signet ring.
Lorenzo wore an identical one.
He pressed the ring against a metal indentation beside the bookshelf.
Click.
The bookshelf opened.
I stared at him.
“Normal families use filing cabinets.”
“So I’m told.”
Inside was a small safe.
Lorenzo opened it.
Documents.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And a sealed envelope.
LORENZO — IF I DIE BEFORE I TELL YOU THE TRUTH
He opened it.
I watched his expression change as he read.
“What?”
He handed me the letter.
His father had discovered that someone inside the family had been siphoning millions through offshore companies.
The beneficiary was not Isabella.
Not Marco.
It was Sofia Duca.
Lorenzo’s aunt.
The woman who had helped raise him.
The woman who had introduced him to Isabella.
Lorenzo whispered, “She built this.”
I heard footsteps outside.
Then Sofia’s voice.
“Lorenzo?”
He froze.
She knew.
“Open the door, sweetheart.”
Emma grabbed his hand.
May you like
Sofia continued softly.
“I know you’re alive.”
