Chapter 3 - The Empty Road and the Man in the Dark
Marco survived.
The bullet had entered below his shoulder.
It was serious but not fatal.
When Adrien arrived at the private clinic where Marco was being treated, his first instinct was to demand answers.
His second was restraint.
He knew someone wanted chaos.
He refused to provide it.
Marco opened his eyes.
Adrien stood at the bedside.
“Who shot you?”
Marco looked at the ceiling.
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Marco swallowed.
“You should.”
“You were talking to someone last night.”
Marco's eyes moved toward him.
“Who told you?”
“Clara.”
A flash of anger crossed Marco's face.
“She was listening.”
“Yes.”
“She shouldn't have.”
Adrien stepped closer.
“She shouldn't have been framed either.”
Marco looked away.
Adrien's voice hardened.
“Who wanted the angel?”
Marco remained silent.
Adrien waited.
Finally, Marco said, “Your brother.”
Adrien froze.
“Daniel?”
Marco closed his eyes.
“I said your brother.”
Daniel Valente had been dead for eleven years.
Killed in a car crash.
At least, that was what Adrien believed.
He left the room without speaking.
Luca followed.
“Boss?”
“Find everything on Daniel.”
“That's impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible anymore.”
They drove back toward the estate.
The storm had turned the roads into sheets of white.
At the halfway point, they found a car abandoned beside an old highway.
Adrien recognized it.
Daniel's car.
Impossible.
He stopped.
Luca grabbed his arm.
“Boss.”
Adrien ignored him.
He approached the vehicle.
Snow covered the roof.
The driver's door hung open.
Inside was a photograph.
Two boys.
Adrien and Daniel.
Their mother stood between them.
On the back, someone had written:
ONE OF YOU WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE THAT NIGHT.
Adrien stared.
His entire childhood seemed to shift.
He remembered the night of Daniel's death.
The rain.
The screaming.
His father telling him to stay upstairs.
The call.
The funeral.
The years of silence.
But suddenly another memory appeared.
His mother crying in a hallway.
“Not both of them.”
At the time, he had assumed she was grieving.
Now he wasn't so sure.
Luca looked at him.
“Should we return to the estate?”
“Yes.”
The drive back was silent.
When they entered the mansion, Clara was waiting in the library.
She stood immediately.
“You're okay.”
Adrien nodded.
“Marco's alive.”
“That's good.”
Adrien looked at her.
“He said something.”
“What?”
“He said my brother is involved.”
Clara stared.
“Your brother?”
“He died eleven years ago.”
Her face changed.
“Then how could he be?”
“That is what I'm going to find out.”
Adrien placed the photograph on the table.
Clara picked it up.
She turned it over.
Her expression shifted.
“What?”
She looked up.
“Where did you find this?”
“In Daniel's car.”
She swallowed.
“I've seen this handwriting.”
Adrien stepped forward.
“Where?”
“In a notebook my mother kept.”
“What notebook?”
“An old Christmas notebook.”
Adrien frowned.
“Why would your mother have a Valente family photograph?”
Clara shook her head.
“She didn't.”
“Then who?”
Clara stared at the handwriting.
“Margaret Ellis.”
Adrien went still.
“Who?”
“My mother's closest friend.”
“What does she have to do with this?”
“I don't know.”
They searched Clara's apartment that afternoon.
The storm had weakened enough for travel.
Inside her rented room, Clara found the notebook hidden inside an old suitcase.
The pages were dated years earlier.
Several contained names.
Valente.
Duca.
Rizzo.
Bellini.
And one name circled twice.
Anthony Rizzo.
Clara stared.
“He's the man from the camera.”
Adrien took the notebook.
A page had been torn out.
Another note remained.
Christmas Eve.
Do not trust the angel.
Clara looked at him.
“The angel wasn't just a decoration.”
Adrien nodded.
“No.”
He turned the notebook.
A folded letter fell out.
It was addressed to Clara.
For the first time since she was nineteen, she saw her mother's handwriting.
My dear Clara,
If you ever find this, the truth is already moving faster than I am.
Do not trust the people who insist that you are alone.
There are people in the Valente family who owe their lives to you and do not know it yet.
The answer is hidden where winter never melts.
And remember this:
When Adrien asks you to choose, choose yourself.
Clara's hands shook.
Adrien looked at her.
“Your mother knew me.”
“She knew your family.”
“She knew something about Daniel.”
“Yes.”
There was another page attached.
A map.
An address in upstate New York.
An old lodge.
Adrien recognized it.
“My father's hunting property.”
“Does anyone use it?”
“No.”
Clara looked at him.
“Then that's where we go.”
They drove through the night.
The lodge was covered in snow.
Inside, they found no people.
But they found evidence.
Old recordings.
Financial documents.
Photographs of Adrien's father meeting Margaret.
And a video.
Adrien's father appeared on screen.
“If you're watching this, then the people I trusted have already turned against us.”
Adrien stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
“Daniel is alive.”
Clara covered her mouth.
Adrien stared at the screen.
“He was never killed in the crash.”
His father's voice shook.
“I allowed the world to believe he died because someone was trying to kill both my sons.”
The video ended.
Adrien couldn't move.
Eleven years of grief.
Eleven years of believing he had failed his brother.
Eleven years based on a lie.
Clara stood beside him.
“Adrien.”
He looked at her.
“Everything I believed about my family is a lie.”
She reached for his hand.
He let her.
And for the first time, Adrien allowed someone to see how frightened he really was.
“I don't know who I am without those memories,” he admitted.
Clara squeezed his hand.
“You're still the man who opened a door for a stranger in the middle of a storm.”
He looked at her.
“That can't be enough.”
“It was enough for me.”
Adrien's eyes softened.
He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
Neither of them noticed the small camera hidden above the fireplace.
May you like
Someone had been watching.
And someone now knew exactly where they were.
