Chapter 3 - The Photograph Behind the Wall
The next morning, Nora cornered Dante over breakfast.
“You need to open Luca’s room.”
“No.”
“There was an intruder outside it.”
“No.”
“You found something linked to your family.”
“No.”
Nora dropped a plate in front of him.
Dante stared at the eggs.
“What part of no are you struggling with?”
“The part where you think saying it louder makes it smarter.”
His eyes lifted.
“Nora.”
“Dante.”
They stared at each other.
Vincent entered.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Yes,” Dante said.
“No,” Nora said.
Vincent smiled.
“I’ll come back.”
“Stay,” Nora said.
Dante looked irritated.
Nora folded her arms.
“I asked Margaret who handled your father’s belongings.”
Vincent’s smile faded slightly.
Dante’s gaze shifted.
“She said you did.”
Vincent shrugged.
“I did.”
“The second pair of cuff links?”
“I don’t remember.”
Nora stepped closer.
“You remembered them last night.”
“I knew they existed.”
“But you don’t know where they went.”
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
“Do you interrogate everyone who employs you?”
“Only when strangers break into their house.”
Dante stood.
“That’s enough.”
Nora looked at him.
“You asked for the truth about Luca for nine years.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“Don’t.”
“What if the truth has been inside your house the whole time?”
“Nora.”
“Open the room.”
Silence.
Dante looked toward the west corridor.
For nine years, that door had remained shut.
Finally—
“Fine.”
The lock clicked.
Dante pushed it open.
Dust drifted through the morning light.
Luca’s room looked exactly as it had the day he left.
Guitar against the wall.
Leather jacket over a chair.
Baseball tickets on the dresser.
Nora didn’t move.
Dante stepped inside alone.
His hand touched the chair.
“She wanted me to clear this room.”
“Who?”
“Our mother.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
Nora’s gaze landed on framed photographs covering a shelf.
Dante and Luca as boys.
Teenagers.
Young men.
Then she saw one photograph turned backward.
She lifted it.
Dante looked over.
The picture showed Luca, Dante and Vincent outside a restaurant.
Written on the back:
TO THE THREE BROTHERS WHO RUN EVERYTHING.
Nora looked at Vincent.
“You three were close.”
Vincent smiled faintly.
“Once.”
Dante took the photograph.
“Luca called Vincent our unofficial brother.”
Nora studied the frame.
Something rattled inside.
She turned it over.
“There’s something behind this.”
She removed the cardboard backing.
A tiny memory card fell into her hand.
Vincent’s face went pale.
Dante saw it.
“What is that?”
“No idea,” Vincent said.
Nora looked at him.
“You sure?”
Vincent’s voice sharpened.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Dante picked up the card.
“Office.”
They inserted it into an old laptop.
One video file appeared.
Date stamped nine years earlier.
The night Luca died.
Dante clicked play.
Luca appeared on screen.
He was nervous.
“Dante, if you’re watching this, I was right.”
Dante stopped breathing.
Nora stared.
Luca continued.
“Someone is moving money through Moretti freight accounts. Millions. They’re selling routes to the Bellano family.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
Luca looked over his shoulder in the recording.
“I don’t know how high it goes. But I found one name.”
Dante leaned toward the screen.
Luca swallowed.
“Vincent Russo.”
Silence.
The room became ice.
Dante slowly turned his head.
Vincent drew his weapon.
Nora froze.
Dante didn’t.
“You killed him.”
Vincent shook his head.
“You don’t understand.”
“You killed my brother.”
“Luca was going to destroy everything.”
“You killed him.”
Vincent’s voice cracked.
“I protected you!”
Dante stepped forward.
“By murdering Luca?”
“He was weak.”
Dante hit him.
One punch.
Vincent fell against the desk.
Nora shouted, “Dante!”
Vincent raised the gun.
Nora grabbed the nearest object.
Luca’s guitar.
She swung it hard into Vincent’s arm.
The weapon skidded across the floor.
Dante kicked it away.
Guards rushed in.
Vincent was pinned down.
Breathing hard, Dante stared at the man he had trusted for thirty years.
Vincent laughed bitterly.
“You think this ends with me?”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent smiled.
“Ask Nora why her husband really died.”
The room went silent.
Nora’s face drained of color.
Dante turned.
“What is he talking about?”
Nora whispered—
“My husband died in a freight-yard fire.”
May you like
Vincent smiled wider.
“A Moretti freight yard.”
