Chapter 3 - The Ledger My Father Never Mentioned
My mother finally told me about the box.
It was hidden in our basement.
I had never noticed it because my mother had sealed off that part of the house after my father's death.
Dominic came with me.
He insisted.
We opened the floorboards.
There was a metal box.
Inside:
Photographs.
A flash drive.
An old watch.
And a letter.
My father's handwriting.
Lena,
If you're reading this, someone failed to keep you away from this world.
I'm sorry.
Your mother will tell you I died in an accident.
She is doing it because I asked her to.
The accident was staged.
I disappeared because the people I worked for wanted the ledger.
I hid it somewhere they would never search.
Where?
In the only place they would assume you would never look.
The letter ended.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Dominic looked at the photographs.
“Your father's watch.”
I opened it.
Nothing.
He turned it over.
A tiny compartment popped open.
Inside was a microfilm strip.
Dominic's face changed.
“This is it.”
“What?”
“The ledger.”
I stared.
“You know what that means?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“Your father didn't steal it.”
“Then what?”
“He protected it.”
From who?
“Everyone.”
We took the microfilm to Dominic's private office.
The names were coded.
But the transactions were real.
Millions.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officers.
And one name appeared repeatedly.
Rafael Bellini.
Dominic's uncle.
I looked at him.
“Your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“I thought he was dead.”
“He is.”
“Then why is he here?”
Dominic stared at the records.
“Because his organization isn't.”
The Bellini family had been divided after Rafael's death.
Dominic inherited one side.
His cousin Matteo inherited another.
Matteo wanted everything.
And the ledger could expose him.
Then another name appeared.
Daniel Marino.
My father.
He had been the one who built the evidence.
He had tried to expose Matteo.
But someone betrayed him.
Dominic found a recording.
My father's voice.
“If Dominic gets this, tell him one thing.”
I held my breath.
“Your father wasn't the real enemy.”
Dominic stopped the recording.
“What?”
“My father said…”
“I heard.”
He continued.
“Then who was?”
We didn't know.
The next morning, one of Dominic's men was found dead.
A note was pinned to his coat.
BRING THE BARTENDER.
Dominic looked at me.
“No.”
I stepped forward.
“They want me.”
“Yes.”
“Then use me.”
“No.”
“You can't keep hiding me.”
“I can.”
“But you shouldn't.”
He looked angry.
“You think this is a game?”
“No.”
“I've buried men who thought exactly like that.”
“Then stop treating me like one of them.”
He stared.
I continued.
“I know chemistry.”
“I know my father's handwriting.”
“I can read patterns in those records.”
“You need me.”
Silence.
Finally he nodded.
“Then stay close.”
That evening, I noticed something.
A transaction dated one day before my father's accident.
A payment to a private hospital.
I showed Dominic.
He stared.
“That hospital is in Connecticut.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked at me.
“Your father may have survived the crash.”
My heart stopped.
We drove that night.
The hospital records had been sealed.
But Dominic knew someone.
An old nurse.
She recognized the name Daniel Marino.
“He came in alive.”
I almost cried.
“When?”
“Sixteen years ago.”
“Why did the records say he died?”
The nurse looked frightened.
“Because someone came for him.”
“Who?”
She whispered:
“A Bellini.”
Dominic went still.
“Which one?”
She shook her head.
“He wore your family ring.”
Dominic stared at the floor.
Then the nurse handed me an envelope.
“Your father left this.”
Inside was a photograph.
A baby.
Me.
And Dominic's mother.
I looked at him.
“What does she have to do with me?”
He stared at the picture.
“I don't know.”
Then I noticed the back.
Written in my father's handwriting:
PROTECT HER FROM MATTEO.
Dominic's face went cold.
“Matteo.”
My entire body froze.
“Who is he?”
“My cousin.”
“Why would he want me?”
May you like
Dominic looked at the photograph.
“Because he may know what your father hid.”
