Chapter 2 - The Man I Buried Alive
By sunrise, I had already searched every file connected to Daniel Voss.
I found inconsistencies everywhere.
His supposed death had occurred six years earlier.
The coroner's report had been signed by a doctor who had died two years before.
The photographs of the body were missing from the archive.
The grave itself had been purchased under an alias.
And the man who had identified the body had been one of my father's former associates.
I had never noticed.
Because I'd wanted Daniel to be dead.
He had been convenient.
He had been the villain in a story I needed to believe.
Elena had disappeared.
I had needed someone to blame.
Daniel had become that someone.
Now a little girl sleeping in my house had turned my certainty into ash.
I stood outside her bedroom.
Lily woke when I entered.
“Mr. Adrian?”
“Adrian.”
She smiled faintly.
“Okay.”
“How did your father talk about me?”
She sat up.
“He said you were scary.”
I almost laughed.
“What else?”
“He said you weren't a bad man.”
I stared at her.
“He said you were hurt.”
That was harder to hear.
I sat on the edge of the chair beside her bed.
“What did he tell you about your mother?”
“She loved music.”
That was true.
Elena played piano.
“She liked yellow flowers.”
Also true.
“She hated when you were late.”
I almost smiled.
“She used to say I was impossible.”
Lily giggled.
“Daddy said the same.”
I looked at her.
“Did he ever say why he kept you away from me?”
“He said you were in danger.”
“From whom?”
“Everyone.”
That wasn't an answer.
But it was enough.
I called Victor.
“Bring me everything on the North Harbor attack.”
He stared when he saw Lily.
“She looks like Elena.”
“I know.”
“And you.”
“I know.”
He lowered his voice.
“Are you sure?”
“I saw the video.”
Victor swallowed.
“Then this changes everything.”
“I need DNA.”
He nodded.
“We'll do it discreetly.”
Lily watched us.
“Are you my daddy?”
I turned toward her.
The question cut deeper than any bullet.
“I think I am.”
She studied my face.
“Do you want to be?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes softened.
“Okay.”
That was all.
No accusation.
No anger.
Just acceptance.
I had spent twenty years building a reputation nobody dared challenge.
A child had dismantled me with one question.
By noon, DNA testing had been arranged.
The result came back that evening.
Father and daughter.
A match so strong there was no reasonable doubt.
Lily was mine.
I stared at the report for a long time.
Then I walked outside.
The snow had stopped.
I found Lily beneath the covered terrace, feeding Bear pieces of chicken.
“You're my daughter.”
She looked up.
“I know.”
“How?”
“Your face.”
I laughed.
“You sound like me.”
She smiled.
“Do I get to stay?”
I crouched.
“Yes.”
“Forever?”
I hesitated.
“Yes.”
She hugged me.
It was awkward.
I didn't know how to hold an eight-year-old child.
So I simply stood there and let her cling to me.
Bear rested his head against my leg.
For the first time in my life, the estate felt warm.
That evening, I invited Victor and my security chief Marcus into the study.
I placed Elena's video on the screen.
Both men stared.
Marcus whispered,
“She survived.”
“Yes.”
“And Lily…”
“My daughter.”
Silence.
I showed them the records.
“The North Harbor attack was staged.”
Marcus frowned.
“By who?”
“That's what we're going to find out.”
I handed him a list.
“Everybody involved in the original investigation. Start with the coroner.”
“Dead.”
“Then the funeral director.”
“Missing.”
“The detective?”
Marcus checked.
“Retired.”
“Find him.”
He nodded.
Victor leaned toward the screen.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“Elena said the person who ordered the attack was still alive.”
“Who had access to the operation?”
“Only a handful of people.”
“My father.”
“Dead.”
“My uncle.”
“Dead.”
“Daniel.”
“Supposedly dead.”
“And…”
Victor stopped.
“Your lieutenant.”
I looked at him.
“Gabriel?”
He nodded.
Gabriel had been my right hand for nineteen years.
He had raised me after my father died.
He had been beside me during the war with the Morettis' rivals.
He had attended my wedding.
He had watched Elena disappear.
He had stood beside me at Daniel's funeral.
I trusted him more than anyone alive.
“Impossible.”
Victor didn't argue.
“I didn't say he did it.”
“Good.”
“But you should ask why Daniel's death benefited him.”
I stared.
Victor left.
Lily appeared at the door.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
She held an old photograph.
“Daddy kept this.”
I took it.
Daniel stood beside Elena.
They were holding baby Lily.
On the back was written:
When the time comes, take her to Adrian.
I stared.
“When did your father give you this?”
“He put it in my backpack yesterday.”
“Before the attack?”
She nodded.
“Did he know he was going to die?”
“I think so.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“He said you would be angry.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought you would think he stole Mommy.”
I looked down.
“He did the opposite.”
“How?”
“He protected her.”
Lily was silent.
Then she asked,
“Why didn't Mommy come get me?”
I didn't know.
That was the one question that had no answer.
I reached for her hand.
“We're going to find out.”
That night, Marcus found the retired detective.
His name was Frank Bell.
He was seventy-two and living in Staten Island.
We went there.
Frank opened the door.
When he saw me, he nearly fell.
“I knew you'd come.”
“What do you know about Elena?”
He looked at Lily.
“She's alive.”
I stared.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father threatened to kill everyone I loved.”
“My father?”
Frank shook his head.
“Your father was dead by then.”
“Then who?”
He looked toward the street.
“Gabriel Russo.”
My blood went cold.
Gabriel.
“My brother?”
Frank swallowed.
“He wasn't your brother.”
I stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
“He was working for someone.”
“Who?”
“I never learned the name.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
He handed me a folder.
“Read it.”
Inside were photographs of the night Elena disappeared.
One showed Gabriel entering a warehouse.
Another showed him meeting Daniel.
A third showed Elena being moved into a van.
A fourth showed someone else.
A man in a long coat.
His face was hidden.
“Who is this?”
“I don't know.”
Frank pointed to the sleeve.
“Look.”
An embroidered symbol.
A black crown.
I recognized it.
My father's old symbol.
But my father was dead.
I looked at Frank.
“Who still uses it?”
“No one.”
“That isn't true.”
Frank whispered,
“Someone does.”
Before he could continue, a bullet shattered the window.
I pulled Lily down.
Frank fell backward.
I rushed to him.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Marcus returned fire through the wall.
The shooter disappeared.
Frank grabbed my arm.
“Find the house beneath the bridge.”
“What house?”
“The blue door.”
He coughed.
“That's where she was.”
“Who?”
“Elena.”
He died before he could say more.
On the drive home, Lily slept.
I stared at the city.
The blue door.
The black crown.
Gabriel.
Elena.
Daniel.
Everything was connected.
When I arrived at the estate, Gabriel was waiting.
He smiled.
“Rough night?”
I stared at him.
“Very.”
He looked toward Lily.
“Who's that?”
My voice was cold.
“My daughter.”
Gabriel's face changed.
Just for a second.
Then he smiled.
“Congratulations.”
I stepped closer.
“How did you know Elena was pregnant?”
He froze.
I had not told him.
He stared at me.
I watched the answer form in his eyes.
May you like
And suddenly, I knew.
He had known about Lily all along.
