Chapter 2 - The Secret File Behind The Locked Wall
Matteo was discharged three days later.
The doctors called his condition stable.
Daniel called it a miracle.
Emily called it a disaster.
Because stability meant he was going home.
And home, in Matteo Romano's case, was a forty-room Manhattan mansion fortified like a private embassy.
Steel gates.
Cameras.
Armed guards.
Bulletproof glass.
A private garage.
A panic room beneath the wine cellar.
And at least three secrets Emily knew she had no business knowing.
She walked beside Matteo as he entered through the front doors for the first time since the accident.
He stopped.
The foyer was enormous.
White marble floors.
Black iron staircase.
A chandelier hanging three stories above them.
Portraits of dead Romanos lined the walls.
Matteo looked at them.
"Who are they?"
"Your family."
"I don't know any of them."
"You don't remember."
"I know."
He continued walking.
Then he stopped in front of a portrait of an older man with silver hair.
"That's my father?"
Emily nodded.
"Angelo Romano."
Matteo stared at the portrait.
"He looks disappointed."
Emily almost smiled.
"He usually was."
Matteo looked at her.
"Did you just make a joke about my father?"
"No."
"You did."
"I may have."
Something softened in his expression.
There it was again.
The strange ease around her.
She made him feel as though his missing memories were less frightening.
That frightened Emily more than anything.
Because the Matteo she knew had always been difficult.
Controlled.
Demanding.
Sometimes cold.
But never cruel to her.
He had always been careful with her.
Even before she understood why.
They entered his study.
Matteo stopped at the desk.
"Where is my computer?"
Emily pointed.
He opened the laptop.
The password field appeared.
He tried one.
Wrong.
Another.
Wrong.
A third.
Wrong.
He frowned.
Emily said softly, "You changed it six weeks ago."
"What was it?"
"I don't know."
He looked at her.
"You manage everything."
"Not your private passwords."
"You could have."
"I wouldn't."
His eyes remained on hers.
Then he smiled slightly.
"That's why I trusted you."
Emily looked away.
"Did you know you were forgetful before?"
"No."
"Not memory loss. Your password habits."
She nodded.
"You changed them whenever you suspected someone was getting too close."
"Did I suspect someone?"
She was silent.
Matteo closed the laptop.
"Tell me."
"You were investigating someone."
"Who?"
"You didn't tell me."
"Emily."
She finally met his eyes.
"You told me what I needed to know. Nothing more."
He leaned back.
"That sounds like me."
"It was."
"And yet you knew where the emergency files were."
Her face changed.
Matteo noticed.
"You know more than you admit."
"I know how to keep you alive."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
He stood.
"And what did I need you for?"
She blinked.
"As your secretary."
"Not what I mean."
Silence.
Then Matteo crossed the room.
He stopped inches from her.
She could smell his cologne.
The familiar scent hit her so hard that for half a second, she was no longer in the study.
She was in a parking garage four months earlier.
Matteo had been bleeding.
She had pressed a handkerchief to his shoulder.
He had looked at her and whispered, "If anything happens to me, you leave."
She had asked, "Leave you?"
He had said, "Leave New York."
Then he had kissed her forehead.
Not her lips.
Just her forehead.
The memory vanished.
Emily returned to the present.
Matteo's voice came softly.
"You remembered something."
She shook her head.
"No."
"You did."
"You're imagining it."
He smiled.
"You lie badly."
"Then why did you keep me for four years?"
His smile disappeared.
"I don't know."
That hurt.
Emily looked away.
Then Matteo saw something on the wall.
A small painting.
He walked toward it.
"What is behind this?"
Emily's stomach dropped.
"Nothing."
"Move."
"Matteo—"
"Move."
She stepped aside.
He removed the painting.
Behind it was a keypad.
He looked at her.
"What is this?"
"I don't know."
He entered several numbers.
Nothing.
Then his hand moved without thought.
2-1-1-9.
The wall clicked.
A hidden panel opened.
Emily stopped breathing.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
A gun.
Three passports.
A flash drive.
And a black envelope with the initials E.C.
Matteo picked it up.
"What does E.C. mean?"
Emily's face went pale.
She did not answer.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Emily.
Standing beside a younger Matteo.
At a train station.
Her face was smiling.
Matteo was looking at her.
Not like an employer.
Like a man in love.
Matteo looked at the photograph.
Then at her.
"Why don't I remember this?"
Emily whispered, "Because you told me not to tell you."
"Why?"
She couldn't answer.
He opened the second photograph.
This one showed Emily hugging a little girl.
A child about five years old.
On the back was written:
Nora Carter. Your daughter.
Matteo froze.
He turned.
"Who is Nora?"
Emily shut her eyes.
She had hoped this truth would stay buried forever.
"Nora is my sister."
Matteo looked at her.
Something about the answer didn't fit.
"How old is she?"
"Eight."
"The photograph is recent."
"Yes."
"You said she was your sister."
"She is."
"Then why would my file contain her photograph?"
Emily swallowed.
"Because you paid for her surgery."
Matteo stared at her.
"Why?"
She hesitated.
"Because when I started working for you, my father had been killed."
The room became silent.
"He was a federal auditor investigating a network connected to Romano Holdings."
Matteo's expression hardened.
"Was he killed because of me?"
"I don't know."
"Emily."
"I don't."
She was telling the truth.
That was the worst part.
Matteo walked to the window.
"Did I kill him?"
"No."
"You can't know that."
"I can."
"How?"
"Because if you had, I wouldn't have stayed."
He turned.
She looked him directly in the eyes.
"I stayed because you were the first person who told me the truth."
Matteo frowned.
"What truth?"
Emily's voice trembled.
"You told me your organization was corrupt."
He said nothing.
"You were trying to change it."
She paused.
"You were building a legal empire and dismantling the parts your father had left behind."
His face tightened.
"Why?"
"Because you were tired of burying people."
Matteo lowered his eyes.
She continued.
"You wanted out."
"Out of what?"
"The Romano syndicate."
A knock sounded.
Daniel entered.
"Sir."
Matteo turned.
"Someone accessed the east-wing security feed six minutes ago."
Daniel looked at Emily.
"Who?"
"Unknown."
Daniel handed Matteo a tablet.
A figure appeared on the screen.
Black coat.
Face hidden.
Walking directly toward the study.
Then the camera cut.
Matteo looked at Emily.
"Can you identify him?"
She said nothing.
Daniel answered.
"He's carrying a Romano access card."
Matteo's expression changed.
"Inside the house?"
"Yes."
The lights suddenly went out.
Emily gasped.
Daniel drew his weapon.
A gunshot shattered the study window.
Matteo grabbed Emily and pulled her to the floor.
Glass exploded across the carpet.
Daniel shouted orders.
Guards rushed toward the corridor.
Another shot struck the wall.
Matteo covered Emily with his body.
She felt his heartbeat against her shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Yes."
He looked at her.
Not the room.
Not the gunfire.
Her.
And then he said something that terrified her.
"I don't remember you."
A pause.
"But I know I would die before I let them hurt you."
Outside, tires screamed away from the driveway.
The attack had lasted less than a minute.
But afterward, Daniel found something in the garden.
A silver cuff link.
Stamped with one letter.
May you like
V.
Julian Voss.
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