Chapter 3 - The Manager Who Knew Their Secret
Mr. Ricca was gone when we returned to Laut.
His office was locked.
His phone was off.
His car had vanished.
Matteo stood in the dining room staring at the empty host stand.
“You worked for him three months?”
“Three.”
“What did he say about Daniel Ruiz?”
“Nothing.”
“Did he ask about a woman named Eleanor?”
I thought.
Then remembered.
“Two weeks ago.”
Matteo looked at me.
“What did he ask?”
“He wanted to know whether anyone had been looking for a woman with a little girl.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I thought he was asking because of a reservation.”
Matteo nodded.
“Reasonable.”
That single word made me feel oddly relieved.
We went into the office through the rear entrance.
Everything looked normal.
Except one drawer.
It was open.
Matteo checked it.
Empty.
“What was here?”
“Records.”
“Which records?”
“Employee files. Payroll. Vendor contracts.”
I looked around.
A framed photograph sat on the wall.
Mr. Ricca shaking hands with a much older man.
I recognized him.
Matteo's late uncle.
“Who is that?”
Matteo followed my gaze.
“My uncle.”
“The one who died?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Heart failure.”
I looked at the photograph again.
There was something familiar.
A ring on his finger.
Black stone.
Silver snake.
The same symbol I had seen once before.
I remembered what Max—No.
I shook the thought away.
This was not the same story.
It was my life.
My life.
And it was becoming stranger by the hour.
Matteo noticed me staring.
“That ring means something.”
“What?”
“It belonged to my father's old organization.”
“Organization?”
He didn't answer.
Then his phone rang.
He listened.
His expression darkened.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Keep her safe.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
“Eleanor and Rosie left the hotel.”
“Why?”
“They were followed.”
My heart stopped.
“By whom?”
“We don't know.”
“Where are they?”
He grabbed his coat.
“Church on Franklin.”
We drove through rain.
I sat in the back because Matteo's security team insisted.
He sat in front.
The city looked gray through the windshield.
“Why are you helping them?” I asked.
He turned.
“Because Daniel once protected me.”
“How?”
“He took a bullet meant for me.”
I stared.
“And you didn't know his family?”
“I thought he had no family.”
“Maybe he didn't tell you.”
“Maybe.”
The church was empty.
Then I saw Eleanor.
She was hiding behind the choir room door.
Rosie clung to her.
Eleanor was crying.
“They found us.”
Matteo approached slowly.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you see them?”
“Two men.”
She handed him a phone.
“One of them dropped this.”
Matteo stared at the screen.
A message was open.
“Bring the ledger to Laut tonight.”
“What ledger?” I asked.
Eleanor looked at me.
“My husband had a book.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know.”
“Where is it?”
She hesitated.
“With Rosie.”
Matteo looked at the little girl.
“Why?”
“Daniel told her to keep it safe.”
Rosie reached into her raincoat.
She pulled out a small red notebook.
My heart pounded.
Matteo opened it.
At first, it looked ordinary.
Names.
Numbers.
Dates.
Shipping routes.
Then he turned a page.
I recognized one name.
Mr. Ricca.
Another.
Matteo's uncle.
Another.
Victor Hale.
Matteo's expression changed.
“Who is Victor Hale?”
Eleanor whispered:
“The man my husband was afraid of.”
Matteo shut the book.
“He's dead.”
I stared.
“You know him?”
“He was my father's business partner.”
“Was?”
“He disappeared fifteen years ago.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“Daniel said he was still alive.”
Matteo looked at the ledger.
Suddenly, Rosie tugged my sleeve.
“Can you read this?”
She pointed toward a final page.
There was a child's handwriting.
Messy.
Large letters.
Three words.
“Blue door. Midnight.”
Matteo crouched.
“Who wrote this?”
Rosie looked at him.
“Daddy.”
“Why?”
“He said if anything happened to him, the blue door would show us who to trust.”
I looked at Matteo.
“What blue door?”
“I know one.”
“Where?”
“Rourke Warehouse.”
He stood.
“We're going.”
I stared.
“Rourke?”
“An old warehouse on Pier Nine.”
“Is it safe?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“So you're staying here.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Mia.”
“You'll need someone who can read.”
“You can read.”
“I can also keep Rosie calm.”
He looked at the little girl.
She was already holding my hand.
Matteo sighed.
“Fine.”
His bodyguard looked shocked.
“Boss—”
“She's coming.”
We drove to Pier Nine.
The warehouse had been abandoned for years.
Rust streaked the metal doors.
Broken windows let rain blow inside.
There was a blue-painted door at the far end.
Matteo approached with his gun drawn.
He opened it.
Behind it was a hidden room.
Inside were photographs.
Files.
Boxes.
And a wall covered in names.
Daniel Ruiz.
Matteo DeLuca.
Mr. Ricca.
Victor Hale.
Eleanor Ruiz.
And my name.
Mia Bennett.
I felt cold.
“Why is my name here?”
Matteo stepped closer.
His face had gone pale.
“I don't know.”
Then I saw the photograph.
Me.
At Laut.
Walking home.
Entering my apartment.
My stomach turned.
Someone had been watching me long before I met Eleanor.
Matteo took my hand.
“Stay behind me.”
I nodded.
A noise came from above.
Then a gunshot.
The bullet struck the wall beside my head.
Rosie screamed.
Matteo grabbed me and pulled me behind a crate.
“Don't move.”
Another shot.
His bodyguard returned fire.
Then silence.
When we looked up, nobody was there.
Only a note pinned to the wall.
Matteo removed it.
Three words.
“ASK THE WAITRESS.”
May you like
He turned toward me.
And I realized the people hunting Eleanor had known about me first.
