Chapter 2 - The Secret Hidden Inside the CardThe gunshot echoed through the lobby.
People screamed.
Glass shattered somewhere behind the reception desk.
Then emergency lights flickered red across the marble floor.
Lorenzo moved before I could even process what had happened.
One second he stood in front of me.
The next, his arm was around my waist, pulling me behind a marble pillar.
"Stay down."
"I'm fine."
"Julia."
The tone stopped me.
I crouched.
Claudio and four security men drew weapons.
The lobby became chaos.
Employees screamed.
Visitors dropped behind furniture.
The elevator doors slammed shut.
Lorenzo looked toward the upper balconies.
"Nobody fires unless you see the target."
"Understood."
My hands were shaking.
Not because of the gunshot.
Because of the card.
Ask Lorenzo what happened twenty years ago.
Twenty years.
The number wouldn't leave my mind.
Lorenzo crouched beside me.
"Give me the card."
I handed it over.
He read it again.
His face remained expressionless.
But his hand tightened around the paper.
"Who knows about this?"
"I don't know."
"Think."
"I've never seen it before."
"I wasn't asking whether you've seen it."
He looked directly into my eyes.
"Who knows about you?"
I swallowed.
"My parents."
His expression changed.
"Your parents?"
"My mother."
"Where is she?"
"Pennsylvania."
"When did you last see her?"
"Three months ago."
"Does she know where you work?"
"Yes."
"Does she know who I am?"
"She knows my employer's name."
His jaw tightened.
"Anything else?"
"No."
A second gunshot sounded.
This one came from the east corridor.
Claudio disappeared toward it.
Lorenzo grabbed my hand.
"We're leaving."
"Where?"
"Somewhere secure."
"I'm not leaving without knowing what's happening."
His eyes hardened.
"This isn't a negotiation."
"It became one when my name appeared on those flowers."
He stared at me.
Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
"You're right."
That frightened me more than his anger.
Lorenzo Greco rarely admitted anyone else was right.
He took my hand and led me toward a concealed elevator.
The door opened after he pressed his thumb against a biometric scanner.
We entered.
The doors closed.
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then I asked the question that had been burning through me.
"What happened twenty years ago?"
Lorenzo stared at the elevator doors.
"I don't know."
"That's a lie."
His eyes met mine.
"Yes."
My heart raced.
"Then tell me."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because if I tell you, you're no longer safe."
"I wasn't safe the moment someone sent those flowers."
He looked down.
"You don't understand what this is."
"Then help me understand."
The elevator descended.
One floor.
Two.
Three.
Then stopped.
The doors opened into an underground garage.
Three black SUVs waited.
Lorenzo guided me toward the center vehicle.
"Get in."
I obeyed.
He entered beside me.
Claudio took the front passenger seat.
The convoy moved through a hidden exit.
I watched Manhattan disappear behind us.
"Where are we going?"
"My house."
"I thought your house was more heavily guarded than this building."
"It is."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"No."
I looked at him.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
The drive lasted forty minutes.
When the gates of his estate opened, I understood why people called Lorenzo untouchable.
The property was enormous.
Black iron gates.
Stone walls.
Security cameras.
Armed guards.
A mansion that looked less like a home and more like a fortress.
Inside, everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
Lorenzo led me into his private study.
Then he locked the door.
"Sit."
I remained standing.
"No."
His eyebrow lifted.
"You've become difficult."
"I think I've earned the right."
He walked to a cabinet and opened it.
Inside were dozens of files.
He pulled out one.
The label read:
1996 — GRECO FAMILY INCIDENT
My breath caught.
He placed it on the desk.
"Twenty years ago, my father was killed."
"I knew that."
"Everyone knows."
"What don't they know?"
Lorenzo opened the file.
Photographs.
Newspaper clippings.
Police reports.
One photograph showed a young Lorenzo standing beside an older man.
His father.
Another showed a burned estate.
Another showed a missing-person report.
I leaned closer.
Then I saw the name.
Elena Romano.
My mother's maiden name.
I froze.
Lorenzo looked at me.
"Now you understand."
I couldn't breathe.
"My mother?"
"Her name appears in the investigation."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying again."
"I don't know the whole story."
"What do you know?"
He stared at the file.
"Twenty years ago, someone inside my father's organization betrayed him."
"Who?"
"We never found out."
"And my mother?"
"She worked for the family."
My stomach dropped.
"My mother was involved with your family?"
"Apparently."
I shook my head.
"No."
He watched me.
"Julia..."
"No."
I backed away.
"My mother worked in a bakery."
"Twenty years ago."
"She never told me."
"Because she was protecting you."
"From what?"
He didn't answer.
The silence was answer enough.
A knock sounded.
Claudio entered.
"We found the shooter."
I turned.
"Who?"
"Nobody."
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
"What does that mean?"
"The gun was remote-triggered."
Claudio placed a device on the desk.
"A distraction."
Lorenzo looked at it.
"Why?"
Claudio looked at me.
"We found this in the lobby."
He handed Lorenzo another envelope.
Lorenzo opened it.
His expression changed.
He read the message.
Then he handed it to me.
She is not your assistant.
My blood ran cold.
"What does that mean?"
Lorenzo didn't answer.
Claudio did.
"It means someone believes you are connected to the old betrayal."
I looked at Lorenzo.
He stared at me.
And for the first time, I saw something I had never seen in his eyes before.
Fear.
May you like
Not for himself.
For me.
Related Stories
