Chapter 4 - Why They Were Watching Me
I spent that night in Matteo's house.
Not because I wanted to.
Because he wouldn't let me go home.
“Someone photographed your apartment,” he said.
“I can handle myself.”
“Maybe.”
He closed the security gate.
“But I need you alive.”
I hated how reassuring that sounded.
His house was nothing like I expected.
No gold fountains.
No ridiculous mansion.
It was large but quiet.
Dark wood.
Stone walls.
A library bigger than my entire apartment.
Rosie fell asleep in a guest room with a stuffed rabbit Matteo's housekeeper found.
Eleanor stayed beside her.
I sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.
Matteo entered.
“You should sleep.”
“I can't.”
“Neither can I.”
He sat across from me.
“Tell me about yourself.”
I laughed softly.
“That sounds like an interview.”
“Maybe it is.”
I told him about my mother.
She had died when I was nineteen.
My father had disappeared when I was thirteen.
I had worked since sixteen.
Laut was the first job where I believed I might finally save enough money to return to school.
“And why did you stay at Laut after Mr. Ricca treated you badly?”
“Because I needed the money.”
He nodded.
“Everyone needs something.”
“What do you need?”
He was silent.
Then:
“The truth.”
I looked at him.
“About Daniel?”
“About everything.”
We spent hours reading the ledger.
The numbers connected shipping containers to illegal operations.
But one pattern stood out.
Every suspicious shipment had passed through a company owned by my father.
I stared.
“My father?”
Matteo looked at me.
“You said he disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“What was his name?”
“Thomas Bennett.”
Matteo went still.
“What?”
“I know that name.”
“From where?”
“He worked for my father.”
My mouth went dry.
“So this is connected to my family.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“We'll find out.”
Then the housekeeper hurried in.
“Mr. DeLuca.”
“What?”
“There's a woman downstairs.”
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Mr. Ricca's sister.”
A middle-aged woman entered.
She looked terrified.
She held a photograph.
She gave it to me.
“This is your father.”
I stared.
He looked younger.
Standing beside Matteo's father.
And between them stood Victor Hale.
Alive.
My hands shook.
“My father wasn't a businessman.”
The woman nodded.
“He was an accountant.”
“For the organization?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him?”
“He tried to expose them.”
My stomach turned.
“Did they kill him?”
“No.”
She took a breath.
“He ran.”
“Why?”
“Because he found out where the money went.”
“Where?”
She looked at Matteo.
“Into the restaurant.”
I stared.
“Laut?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Ricca hadn't merely been a manager.
He had been laundering money through the restaurant.
And my father had known.
“Then why hire me?”
The woman looked at Matteo.
Matteo didn't speak.
I stood.
“You knew.”
He looked at me.
“I suspected.”
“You hired me because of my father.”
“No.”
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
I stepped back.
“So you were investigating me too.”
“Yes.”
“Then everything between us was a lie.”
His expression hardened.
“No.”
“What wasn't?”
“The part where I care whether you're safe.”
I wanted to believe him.
That frightened me.
The woman suddenly collapsed.
I caught her.
Her pulse was racing.
I recognized the symptoms.
“She's been poisoned.”
Matteo's eyes snapped toward me.
“How do you know?”
“Her pupils.”
I helped lay her down.
“Call an ambulance.”
“There won't be time.”
I looked at him.
“Then trust me.”
For the next fifteen minutes, I kept her breathing until medical help arrived.
When she was taken away, Matteo stared at me.
“You saved her.”
“I did what I knew.”
He stepped closer.
“I owe you.”
“You don't owe me anything.”
“I do.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You just don't know what this family does with debts.”
The next morning, investigators found a second hidden room inside Laut.
It contained financial records.
Photographs.
And one video.
My father appeared on screen.
I had not seen his face in ten years.
He looked older.
Tired.
Scared.
“Mia,” he said.
I stopped breathing.
“If you're watching this, I failed you.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I left because people around me became dangerous.”
He paused.
“I trusted the wrong men.”
Then he said:
“Trust Matteo.”
I looked at him.
My father continued.
“He is not what people think.”
The video ended.
I turned toward Matteo.
He looked stunned.
“You knew about this?”
“No.”
I whispered:
“Then why would my father tell me to trust you?”
Matteo stared at the screen.
“I don't know.”
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His face went completely still.
“What happened?”
Silence.
May you like
Then:
“My father is alive.”
