Chapter 4 - The Letter Evelyn Left Behind
Olivia sat on the floor of Dante’s study and read every word.
Her mother had written the letter fourteen years ago.
The handwriting became more hurried near the end.
Evelyn explained that Charles had been working with a private financial network that moved illegal money through legitimate construction projects.
Dante’s father had discovered the scheme.
He had threatened to expose everyone.
But there was one person more powerful than Charles.
Someone who had access to judges, police officers, city officials, and businessmen.
Someone Evelyn called only “the architect.”
Olivia reached the final page.
The architect is not the person you think.
Then the letter stopped.
No name.
Only another message.
Look beneath the blue house.
Olivia frowned.
The cottage.
Her mother’s old house was painted blue.
She folded the letter.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Dante.
He stopped when he saw the open cabinet.
“Now you know.”
Olivia looked at him.
“You knew the letter was here.”
“Yes.”
“You knew there was a key.”
“No.”
“Then why did you leave the cabinet locked?”
“Because your mother told my father that the truth should only be opened by you.”
Olivia stood.
“She trusted you.”
“She trusted my family.”
“And you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know whether she trusted you?”
“I was nineteen.”
Olivia stared.
Her voice softened.
“You knew her when you were nineteen.”
“Yes.”
“What was she like?”
Dante sat in a chair.
“Brave.”
A faint smile appeared.
“Annoyingly brave.”
Olivia sat opposite him.
“Tell me.”
Dante leaned back.
“She caught me sneaking into my father’s office.”
“What were you doing?”
“Looking for something.”
“The same records?”
“Yes.”
“She should have been frightened.”
“She was.”
“But she didn’t run.”
“No.”
“What did she say?”
Dante remembered.
“She said, ‘You have your father’s anger and your mother’s eyes. Neither will save you if you keep walking into rooms without knowing who is waiting.’”
Olivia smiled through tears.
“That sounds like her.”
“She helped me.”
“How?”
“She warned me my father was being watched.”
Dante looked at his hands.
“She knew I would become the person responsible for protecting the family someday.”
“Did she know she would die?”
“I think she suspected.”
The room went quiet.
Olivia folded the letter.
“We need to go to the blue house.”
They arrived before sunset.
The cottage looked exactly as Olivia remembered.
Blue shutters.
White fence.
A cracked birdhouse.
The kitchen window where she and her mother used to make pancakes.
Olivia stepped inside.
Dust covered everything.
But one thing was wrong.
The floor near the fireplace had fresh scratches.
Dante saw them too.
They pulled back the rug.
A trapdoor appeared.
Olivia stared.
“My father never told me.”
“He wanted you to believe there was nothing here.”
Beneath the floor was a small room.
Inside stood shelves full of boxes.
Old photographs.
Cassette tapes.
Documents.
One box had Olivia’s name.
She opened it.
Inside were childhood drawings.
Birthday cards.
A lock of her hair.
Her first pair of ballet shoes.
And underneath them, a video cassette.
Dante found an old television in the storage room.
They watched.
Evelyn appeared on screen.
Older than in Olivia’s memories.
Tired.
Frightened.
But smiling.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Olivia covered her mouth.
Her mother continued.
“If you're watching this, then I didn’t get the chance to explain everything to you.”
Tears rolled down Olivia’s cheeks.
Evelyn spoke about the money laundering operation.
She revealed that Charles had not started it.
He had been recruited by someone else.
The architect.
Then she said something shocking.
“The architect is a woman.”
Olivia looked at Dante.
“What woman?”
The recording continued.
“She is close to our family.”
Evelyn reached for a document.
“She has been using the Hart name for years.”
Then the video froze.
The tape ended.
Olivia stared at the blank screen.
“Who?”
Dante looked toward the boxes.
“We search.”
They found another photograph.
It showed Evelyn and a woman with dark hair.
The woman looked almost identical to her.
Olivia whispered.
“Her sister.”
A name was written beneath the image.
Vivian Vale.
Dante took out his phone.
“I know that name.”
“Who is she?”
“She disappeared fifteen years ago.”
“After my mother died?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I thought she was dead.”
Olivia looked at the photograph.
“My mother had a sister named Vivian, and everyone believed she died.”
Dante nodded.
“But if Evelyn recorded that she was alive…”
“They may have lied about Vivian too.”
Olivia’s fear was replaced by anger.
“My family destroyed the truth.”
“No.”
Dante looked at her.
“Someone destroyed it.”
“And now we find them.”
“Exactly.”
They returned to Moretti House late that night.
Olivia was exhausted.
Dante walked beside her.
“You can sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because every answer creates three more questions.”
“That is how investigations work.”
“Is that your way of reassuring me?”
“No.”
She looked at him.
He smiled faintly.
“That was my way of saying I understand.”
For the first time since the wedding, Olivia laughed.
“Do you ever say anything normal?”
“Rarely.”
They reached her room.
Dante turned to leave.
Olivia stopped him.
“Thank you.”
He looked at her.
“For what?”
“For not treating me like my father did.”
Dante’s expression softened.
“You are not a debt, Olivia.”
The words stayed with her long after he left.
The next morning, a new problem arrived.
Isabella had disappeared from the hospital.
On her pillow was a note.
STOP LOOKING FOR VIVIAN.
Olivia’s heart pounded.
Dante read it twice.
“This was not written by Isabella.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she would never write your name without capitalizing it.”
Olivia blinked.
“That’s oddly specific.”
“I notice details.”
He looked at the guards.
“Find her.”
Hours passed.
Then the phone rang.
A voice said:
“If you want your sister alive, bring the ledger to the old courthouse.”
Dante’s eyes became ice.
Olivia grabbed his hand.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You’re not going.”
“I am.”
“No.”
“She’s my sister.”
“I’ll get her.”
“What if they expect you?”
“They do.”
“Then they expect you to come alone.”
Dante stared at her.
May you like
Olivia took the ledger.
“I’m going with you.”
