Chapter 3 - The Grave That Was Never HersRain poured over the cemetery.
I stood before Elena's grave while Lucia held my hand.
For eight years, I had visited this place alone.
Tonight, I wasn't alone.
The grave marker read:
ELENA DE LUCA
My wife.
My heart.
My dead future.
But the moment Victor's words returned to me, I knew something was wrong.
I ordered my men to dig.
They protested.
I didn't care.
When the coffin was uncovered, I felt sick.
I had buried Elena myself.
I remembered the funeral.
I remembered touching the coffin.
I remembered screaming when they lowered it.
But when the lid opened, there was no body.
Only stones.
And beneath them was a metal box.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
Bank records.
Names.
Hundreds of them.
Children.
Families.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officers.
And one name repeated more than any other.
Gabriel Moretti.
Then I found another photograph.
Elena.
Standing beside a young Ricardo Vasquez.
Both looked terrified.
On the back were three words.
He knows everything.
Lucia touched the picture.
“That's Mommy.”
I looked at her.
“Do you recognize him?”
She nodded.
“That's Uncle Ricardo.”
Before I could ask more, headlights appeared beyond the cemetery gates.
My men raised their guns.
A black SUV stopped.
Ricardo stepped out alone.
He wore no weapon.
“Adriano.”
I aimed at his chest.
“You're either very brave or very stupid.”
“I came to talk.”
“You murdered seven of my men.”
“And you kidnapped my daughter.”
“She is my daughter too.”
Ricardo stared at Lucia.
Something softened in his face.
“You finally know.”
I stepped closer.
“Tell me everything.”
He sighed.
“Elena came to me eight years ago.”
“Why?”
“She knew Moretti wanted your daughter.”
My fists clenched.
“She was pregnant.”
“She was carrying a child Moretti believed could be used to control you.”
“Why didn't she come to me?”
“Because Moretti had infiltrated your organization.”
My eyes moved toward Victor's direction.
Ricardo nodded.
“He had men everywhere.”
“What happened at the safe house?”
“Moretti planted the bomb.”
My breath caught.
“Elena survived.”
“Where is she?”
Ricardo looked at Lucia.
“She hid the child first.”
“Where?”
“With me.”
I stared at him.
“You raised my daughter?”
“For eight years.”
Rage exploded inside me.
“You stole eight years from me.”
“I saved her life.”
“You could have told me.”
“You would have gone after Moretti.”
“Yes.”
“And died.”
I had no answer.
Ricardo reached into his coat.
He removed a small envelope.
“Elena wrote this for you.”
I didn't take it.
“What does it say?”
“She told me not to give it to you until Lucia found you.”
My hands shook as I opened it.
Adriano,
If Lucia is with you, then the truth has finally reached you.
I didn't die.
I ran.
I ran because Moretti promised to destroy you if I stayed.
I know you will hate me.
You should.
But I did what I had to do.
Our daughter is alive.
She has your eyes.
And she knows your heart, even if she doesn't remember it.
Find me before Moretti does.
I am closer than you think.
I looked up.
“Where is she?”
Ricardo's face changed.
“He found her.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“Three hours ago.”
The cemetery lights went out.
A gunshot cracked through the rain.
Ricardo collapsed.
And from somewhere in the darkness came a woman's scream.
May you like
“Elena!”
I ran.
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