Chapter 7 - The Vault Beneath the Chapel
The chapel had been locked for decades.
Beneath the altar was a hidden staircase.
We descended.
A steel door waited at the bottom.
The key opened it.
Inside was a vault.
Documents.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And the ledger.
Anthony opened it.
The first pages described legitimate business.
Then the entries changed.
Counterfeit art.
Bribes.
Smuggling.
Murder.
My stomach turned.
Anthony's grandfather had indeed been involved.
But then we reached the final pages.
The operation had been taken over.
By someone else.
Elias's father.
Anthony stared.
“My grandfather tried to stop them.”
I read the notes.
He had discovered the network.
He had attempted to expose it.
He had been betrayed by one trusted partner.
The partner was Elias's father.
But the final pages were written twenty years later.
By my mother.
She had added evidence.
She had identified the modern operation.
She had named Thomas Evans.
My father.
Anthony looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I nodded.
“Keep reading.”
The final page contained one name.
Matteo Ravalini.
Anthony's uncle.
His face hardened.
“Matteo.”
The man everyone believed had died in an accident.
The man Anthony had never trusted.
The man who had disappeared years ago.
He was alive.
And he had been controlling Elias.
Then we heard footsteps.
Matteo entered.
“Hello, Anthony.”
Anthony raised his gun.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“You killed my father.”
“I did what was necessary.”
Anthony stepped forward.
“You destroyed my family.”
“I improved it.”
Matteo looked at me.
“And you.”
I froze.
“Your mother was troublesome.”
“You killed her?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“I gave her a reason to disappear.”
My heart stopped.
“She’s alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“Your father knows.”
I felt sick.
“You're working with Thomas.”
“Of course.”
Anthony moved toward him.
Matteo raised his weapon.
“Stay.”
Security surrounded the room.
Matteo smiled.
“You don't understand.”
He threw a remote onto the floor.
Explosives had been planted throughout the building.
Anthony looked at me.
“Run.”
We sprinted.
The first explosion shook the chapel.
The floor collapsed behind us.
We reached the surface.
Another explosion.
Anthony fell.
I turned.
Blood covered his shoulder.
“Anthony!”
“Go.”
“No.”
He tried to stand.
I pulled him up.
We ran.
Outside, the chapel erupted in flames.
The ledger was gone.
Matteo had escaped.
But I still had one piece of evidence.
The photograph.
And on the back was an address.
My mother's address.
In Quebec.
She had been alive.
All this time.
We drove through the night.
When we arrived, an elderly woman opened the door.
She stared at me.
Then covered her mouth.
“Emma?”
I couldn't breathe.
“Mom?”
She cried.
I ran into her arms.
For the first time in fifteen years, I heard my mother's heartbeat.
She held me like I was still a child.
“I’m sorry.”
“I thought you died.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe it.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“I was sold.”
She froze.
“What?”
“My father sold me to Anthony.”
Her face changed.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did he protect you?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Then perhaps I was right about his family.”
My mother looked at Anthony.
“Your grandfather saved me once.”
Anthony nodded.
“And now you're saving my daughter.”
May you like
He said quietly,
“She saved me first.”
