Chapter 2 - The Secret My Father Took to His Grave
I spent the next twenty minutes arguing with Alex about leaving my apartment.
He won.
Not because he was my boss.
Not because he was intimidating.
Because someone had just threatened me.
That fact changed everything.
I packed one suitcase while Sariah stood at the foot of my bed staring at me as though I had accidentally fallen into a television drama.
“You're moving into a mafia mansion,” she said.
“I am not moving in.”
“Temporary relocation.”
“That sounds exactly like moving in with a dangerous man.”
“He's not dangerous to you.”
“How do you know?”
She pointed toward the living room.
“Because he brought three guards, checked the windows, and hasn't looked at your pajamas in at least six minutes.”
I glared at her.
“You're impossible.”
“I'm observant.”
When I returned to the living room, Alex stood by the window.
He was speaking quietly to one of his men.
The moment he saw me, the conversation ended.
His eyes dropped to my suitcase.
“Ready?”
“As ready as a woman can be when her boss has informed her that her dead father was secretly investigating organized crime.”
His mouth tightened.
“I know this is a lot.”
“You knew for two years.”
“Yes.”
“You could have told me.”
“Yes.”
“And you chose not to.”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“At least you're honest.”
“I learned a long time ago that lies become expensive.”
Sariah coughed.
“Some of us should go now.”
Alex looked at her.
“You're coming too.”
She blinked.
“I'm what?”
“If Nina is safer with you, you're safer with us.”
Sariah's lips parted.
“Was that a threat?”
“No.”
“Because it sounded very professionally delivered.”
Alex almost smiled.
“Come on.”
We left.
The drive to his house was silent.
Boston's streets glowed under streetlights and wet pavement. I watched the city pass through the tinted window and tried to recognize the life I had woken up in that morning.
It already felt distant.
Alex sat across from me.
He wasn't scrolling through his phone.
He was watching me.
Finally I spoke.
“You really knew my father?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My father hired him.”
“To investigate what?”
“Money laundering.”
I turned toward him.
“And did he find something?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“A network inside the family.”
I frowned.
“Inside?”
“Someone was diverting money from businesses, laundering it through shell companies, and using my family name as cover.”
“And my father found out?”
“He found evidence.”
“What happened to it?”
“We don't know.”
The car slowed as we approached a massive iron gate.
It opened.
Alex's estate was hidden behind tall trees and stone walls.
The house wasn't flashy.
It was old.
Elegant.
Protected.
The kind of house that had secrets built into the walls.
A woman in her sixties opened the front door.
“Mr. Mancini.”
“Mrs. DeLuca.”
Her eyes fell on me.
Then widened.
“Nina?”
I stopped.
“How do you know my name?”
She smiled sadly.
“You have your mother's eyes.”
My stomach dropped.
“You knew my mother too?”
She nodded.
“Everyone who worked for Vincent knew your family.”
I followed Alex inside.
The foyer opened into a long marble hallway.
On the wall hung portraits of Mancini family members spanning generations.
But one frame had been turned face down.
I noticed it immediately.
“Why is that picture turned around?”
Alex looked at it.
“Because my father hated the person in it.”
“Who?”
“My uncle Richard.”
“What did he do?”
Alex's expression became unreadable.
“He died twelve years ago.”
“How?”
“Officially? Heart attack.”
“And unofficially?”
Alex looked at me.
“You're asking dangerous questions.”
“I'm beginning to think dangerous questions are the only questions that matter.”
That earned me a faint smile.
“Fair enough.”
Dinner was waiting.
Sariah sat beside me as if she were my personal bodyguard.
Alex took the seat opposite us.
He barely ate.
His attention remained on me.
Finally he placed his fork down.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“Your father left a second message.”
He handed me a small recorder.
I pressed play.
Static.
Then my father's voice.
“Nina, if you're hearing this, then I'm already gone.”
My heart cracked.
I gripped the table.
“If Vincent trusts Alex, trust Alex. But trust no one else in his family.”
My breath caught.
“Someone inside the family knows what happened to your mother.”
I froze.
My mother had died when I was twenty-four.
Cancer, according to every document I had.
My father had already been dead for five years.
The recording continued.
“She didn't die the way you were told.”
My hand trembled.
I stopped the recording.
“No.”
Alex didn't move.
“She died of cancer.”
“That's what the official records say.”
“But you don't believe it.”
“No.”
I stood.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“That's not good enough.”
“Nina—”
“You knew someone had lied about my mother's death and you said nothing?”
“I didn't have proof.”
“You still don't.”
“I'm trying to find it.”
I turned away.
Tears burned my eyes.
Everything I knew about my family was dissolving.
Sariah put a hand on my shoulder.
“We'll figure it out.”
That night I slept in a guest room.
Or tried to.
At 2:17 a.m., I woke to footsteps outside.
I sat up.
The door opened.
Alex stood there.
“No lights,” he whispered.
“What happened?”
“Someone got through the outer fence.”
I stepped out of bed.
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
He moved toward me.
“Stay behind me.”
We walked downstairs.
A security monitor showed a figure moving through the trees.
Then the screen went black.
Alex cursed.
“Power cut.”
A loud crash came from the kitchen.
I jumped.
Alex grabbed my hand.
His fingers were warm around mine.
We moved through the dark.
Then a man appeared in the doorway.
He ran.
Alex chased him.
I stayed frozen until I heard a struggle.
Then silence.
A few minutes later, Alex returned.
He was breathing hard.
In his hand was a small black envelope.
“He dropped this.”
Inside was an old newspaper clipping.
The headline read:
LOCAL ACCOUNTANT FOUND DEAD IN APPARENT ROBBERY
Daniel Vale.
My father.
Across the article someone had written in red ink:
THE DAUGHTER HAS THE KEY.
I looked up.
“What key?”
May you like
Alex stared at me.
“That is what we need to find.”
