Chapter 2 - The Mafia Boss Realized the Secretary He Underestimated Was the Daughter of the Woman Who Once Saved His FatherBy eight the next morning, Margot was sitting outside Raphael Santoro's office.
The receptionist wouldn't meet her eyes.
Neither would the security guards.
People knew something had changed.
Margot knew it too.
Her temporary contract had become irrelevant.
She had stepped into something larger.
Raphael opened the office door himself.
“Come in.”
She entered.
He closed the door.
No secretary.
No security.
No witnesses.
On his desk were the pages from her notebook.
But he had rearranged them.
Not chronologically.
By account number.
“You said your mother worked for my father.”
“Yes.”
“Why did she leave?”
Margot hesitated.
“She was fired.”
“Why?”
“She wouldn't sign something.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
Raphael's eyes narrowed.
“Then how do you know?”
“Because she kept the termination letter.”
He handed her a copy.
Margot recognized it.
Her mother had kept it for decades.
But there was something new.
A handwritten notation at the bottom.
Refused to certify R-39 transfer.
Margot looked up.
“What is R-39?”
Raphael leaned back.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
“I can't.”
“Then we find out.”
He slid a second folder across the desk.
“Your mother’s employment records.”
Margot opened them.
Her mother's job title.
Senior financial auditor.
Twenty-three years ago.
Then a gap.
Eighteen months.
No records.
“What happened here?”
Raphael shook his head.
“That's what I want to know.”
Margot studied the pages.
Then noticed a number in the corner.
She froze.
“That number.”
“What?”
“My notebook.”
She reached for it.
Page forty-two.
There it was.
She looked at Raphael.
“This isn't a random number.”
“What is it?”
“My mother wrote it in one of her old journals.”
“Where?”
“At home.”
“Do you have it?”
“Yes.”
“Bring it.”
Margot stood.
“Why are you helping me?”
Raphael stared.
“I haven't decided whether I'm helping you.”
He pointed to the documents.
“I may be helping myself.”
That honesty made her trust him slightly more.
By noon, Margot returned with a box.
Inside were her mother's journals.
Three notebooks.
One diary.
And a cassette tape.
Raphael looked at the cassette.
“What's that?”
“I don't know.”
“Why did you keep it?”
“My mother told me never to play it.”
Raphael's expression hardened.
“Of course she did.”
They found an old cassette player in storage.
Margot pressed play.
A woman's voice filled the office.
Her mother's voice.
Older.
Afraid.
“If anyone is listening to this, then I'm already gone.”
Margot covered her mouth.
Raphael stood completely still.
The recording continued.
“R-39 is not a storage code.”
Raphael leaned forward.
“It is a person.”
Margot looked at him.
“Who?”
Her mother's voice answered.
“The thirty-ninth ledger keeper.”
The tape clicked.
Then started again.
“The person holds the master record of every payment.”
Margot's heart raced.
“Payment to whom?”
Her mother continued.
“Judges. Contractors. Police. Politicians. Hospitals. Anyone necessary to keep the organization protected.”
Raphael's face became cold.
His father.
His family.
The organization.
The corruption wasn't new.
It was inherited.
The recording continued.
“But there is one payment that was never made.”
A pause.
“Forty million dollars.”
Raphael frowned.
“To whom?”
Her mother whispered:
“Your father's enemy.”
Then the tape ended.
Silence.
Margot stared at Raphael.
“What does it mean?”
He didn't answer.
He opened a secure database.
Searched his father's old files.
A name appeared.
Nathan Cross.
Margot recognized it.
“Victor Cross?”
Raphael nodded.
His father's greatest rival.
A man who had vanished twenty years ago.
“Forty million was supposed to go to him,” Raphael said.
“Why?”
“To stop a war.”
“And it never did.”
“No.”
Margot looked at the old journal.
She opened it.
Inside was a single sentence.
The money disappeared before the transfer.
Raphael looked at her.
“Someone stole it.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Margot turned the page.
The name had been torn away.
Only two letters remained.
L. P.
Raphael's expression hardened.
Leonard Price.
Again.
But he wasn't ready to accuse him.
Not yet.
That evening, Margot was sent to retrieve a box from the basement.
She entered alone.
The rows seemed different now.
More threatening.
She reached Row 39.
The light flickered.
She found Box 114.
Then stopped.
Because beside it stood a box she had never noticed.
No number.
Just the letter:
R.
Her pulse rose.
She touched it.
A voice behind her said:
“Don't.”
She turned.
Raphael.
He stood at the end of the aisle.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I saw you enter.”
He walked closer.
“Don't touch that box.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't know what's inside.”
“That hasn't stopped you before.”
“No.”
He looked at the box.
“That's why I'm still alive.”
Margot pulled back.
“What do you mean?”
Raphael reached into his coat.
Pulled out a key.
“This was found in my father's desk after he died.”
He held it up.
It had the number 39.
Margot stared.
“Then open it.”
“I tried.”
“And?”
“It doesn't open the box.”
“Then what does?”
He looked at her.
“Your notebook.”
Margot frowned.
She opened it.
Page thirty-nine.
A series of numbers.
She read them aloud.
“Four. Seven. Twelve. Nineteen.”
Raphael took the key.
Pressed it against the box.
Nothing.
Margot turned the page.
“Thirty-one.”
Click.
A hidden panel opened.
The box unlocked.
Inside was a photograph.
Raphael's father.
Clara Ellery.
And Leonard Price.
Margot's breath caught.
But that wasn't the worst part.
Standing behind them was a man Margot recognized.
Her father.
She stared.
“No.”
Raphael looked at her.
“You knew him?”
“My father died before I was born.”
Raphael turned the photograph.
On the back:
The four people who know where the money went.
Margot's hands shook.
“Four people.”
She counted.
Raphael.
Clara.
Leonard.
Her father.
“Your father knew my father.”
“Yes.”
“And my mother knew your father.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did they hide it?”
Raphael looked at the photograph.
“Because someone betrayed all of them.”
A gunshot cracked through the warehouse.
The photograph fell.
Margot screamed.
Raphael pulled her down.
Another shot.
Glass shattered.
Security alarms erupted.
He pulled her behind the shelving.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Margot.”
“I can help.”
“How?”
She pointed upward.
“Cameras.”
“What?”
“The cameras don't cover this aisle.”
Raphael looked.
She was right.
He smiled for the first time.
“Then you really do notice everything.”
They moved through the blind spot.
A man fired again.
Raphael returned fire.
The attacker fled.
By the time security arrived, he was gone.
But he had left something behind.
A brass lighter.
Raphael picked it up.
The Santoro crest.
His father's initials.
And underneath:
R-39.
Raphael looked at Margot.
“They're afraid of you.”
She stared.
“Why?”
“Because your mother discovered the truth.”
“And my father?”
“Because your father helped hide it.”
Margot's face went pale.
“Then why kill him?”
Raphael looked at her.
“I don't know.”
The lie was obvious.
He knew more than he was saying.
And she could tell.
That night, Raphael refused to let Margot return to her apartment.
He moved her into a guest room in the mansion.
Margot protested.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know.”
“Then why am I here?”
“Because somebody tried to kill you today.”
She folded her arms.
“Somebody tried to kill you too.”
“Yes.”
“So what makes you safer?”
He looked at her.
“I'm used to it.”
She laughed bitterly.
“That's not comforting.”
“It wasn't meant to be.”
Later, Margot couldn't sleep.
She went downstairs.
The kitchen was empty.
She found Raphael sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.
He looked tired.
Not dangerous.
Just tired.
“You don't sleep either?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I close my eyes, I remember my father.”
“Do you hate him?”
Raphael thought.
“Sometimes.”
“Do you love him?”
“Sometimes.”
Margot sat.
“My mother was the same.”
“Your father?”
“I don't know.”
Raphael looked at her.
“You want to know.”
“Yes.”
“I'll find out.”
She studied him.
“Why?”
He paused.
“Because your mother may have died trying to protect my family.”
Margot looked down.
“And because you fell asleep in my warehouse.”
She laughed despite herself.
“That too.”
He almost smiled.
Then the mansion alarm went off.
Both stood.
Raphael grabbed his gun.
Margot froze.
“What happened?”
Security shouted from outside.
“Perimeter breach!”
Raphael looked at her.
“Stay here.”
This time she nodded.
The lights went out.
A voice came through the intercom.
“Raphael.”
He stopped.
A distorted male voice.
“You've been looking in the wrong boxes.”
Then:
“Ask Margot what her father took.”
The line went dead.
Margot looked at Raphael.
“What did he mean?”
Raphael stared at her.
May you like
“I don't know.”
But for the first time, she wasn't sure he was telling the truth.
Related Stories
