Chapter 2 - Beneath Her Brother’s Grave, the Mafia Boss Found a Message That Proved Someone Inside His Family Had Ordered the MurderRain poured over the cemetery.
Martha stood beside Damian beneath a black umbrella.
Her hands were cold.
Her heart was colder.
Andrew's grave sat beneath an old oak tree.
The stone was simple.
ANDREW BELLINI
BELOVED BROTHER
1989–2026
Martha touched the lettering.
“He hated funerals.”
Damian stood behind her.
“What?”
“He always said he didn't want people crying over him.”
She laughed softly.
“He'd probably complain about the flowers.”
Damian looked at the grave.
“My father used to say the same thing.”
“Did he die naturally?”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“I'm sorry.”
“He was killed.”
“By?”
“People I later became responsible for.”
She stared.
Damian did not elaborate.
He took a shovel from the trunk.
Martha looked at him.
“You're actually digging up my brother?”
“He told me to.”
“When?”
“Before he died.”
She froze.
“What?”
Damian pulled a sealed envelope from his coat.
Andrew's handwriting.
FOR DAMIAN ONLY. OPEN AT HER GRAVE.
Martha stared.
“You brought that here?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you show me?”
“Because I didn't know what it contained.”
He opened it.
Inside was one photograph.
Andrew standing beside a grave.
Not his own.
Another note:
The truth is under the wrong grave.
Damian looked at Martha.
“Your father.”
Her face went pale.
“My father is buried in Massachusetts.”
“We dig here.”
“Why?”
“Because Andrew told me to.”
Damian began digging near the edge of the grave.
Martha held the umbrella.
Twenty minutes.
Thirty.
Then the shovel struck metal.
Damian crouched.
He uncovered a steel box.
Martha's breathing stopped.
Inside was a phone.
A ledger.
And a sealed envelope.
Damian opened the phone.
One video.
Andrew appeared.
“If you're watching this, then I'm dead.”
Martha closed her eyes.
Andrew continued.
“Damian, you were right.”
Damian stared.
“Victor is compromised.”
Martha looked at him.
Andrew said:
“But he's not the one pulling the strings.”
Damian's jaw tightened.
“He answers to someone else.”
Andrew looked directly at the camera.
“Someone who has access to your entire organization.”
The video ended.
Martha looked at Damian.
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
The ledger fell open.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Several pages referenced Victor.
Others referenced people Martha recognized from the mansion.
Drivers.
Accountants.
Security officers.
Then one name appeared again and again.
Lucian Falcone.
Damian went still.
“My uncle.”
Martha frowned.
“I thought he was dead.”
“So did I.”
The cemetery gates slammed shut.
Damian looked up.
Cars surrounded them.
Three.
Then five.
Martha stepped closer.
“Are they yours?”
“No.”
Men got out.
Weapons visible.
Damian handed Martha the ledger.
“Run.”
“No.”
“Martha.”
“I'm not leaving.”
He looked at her.
“You don't understand.”
“I understand enough.”
The first shots cracked.
Damian returned fire.
Martha ran toward the old mausoleum.
Damian covered her.
The attackers advanced.
One man shouted:
“Take the book!”
Martha hugged the ledger.
Damian knocked one shooter down.
Another rushed them.
Martha hit him with the shovel.
He collapsed.
Damian looked at her.
“That was impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“You're terrifying.”
“Good.”
They reached the mausoleum.
Damian shut the iron door.
Shots struck the stone.
Martha held the ledger.
“What do we do?”
“We wait.”
“For what?”
“For them to believe we're trapped.”
He checked his phone.
“No signal.”
“Great.”
“There's another exit.”
“Of course there is.”
He found a hidden passage beneath the stone floor.
They crawled through.
When they emerged behind the cemetery, the cars were gone.
Martha looked at him.
“Where are we going?”
“My uncle's old house.”
“Why?”
“If Lucian is alive, someone has been hiding him.”
“And if he isn't?”
“Then someone wants me to believe he is.”
They drove to an abandoned estate in Rhode Island.
The house had been empty for years.
Inside they found dust.
Old furniture.
A locked office.
Damian broke the door.
The walls were covered in photographs.
Martha stared.
There were pictures of Damian as a teenager.
His father.
His mother.
Victor.
Andrew.
And her.
Martha's blood ran cold.
One photograph showed her at age nineteen.
Walking to college.
“How did they get this?”
Damian walked closer.
“That photo was taken eight years ago.”
“I know.”
“You weren't in my world.”
“No.”
“But someone was watching you.”
Martha looked at him.
“Why?”
He shook his head.
Then they found a wall safe.
Inside was a file.
BELLINI PROJECT.
Martha opened it.
Her name appeared.
SUBJECT: MARTHA BELLINI.
Her medical history.
School records.
Employment.
Addresses.
Then one line:
DO NOT ALLOW HER TO MEET DAMIAN.
Martha's hands shook.
Damian took the file.
Below her name was another.
ANDREW BELLINI — ASSET.
She looked at him.
“My brother was working for them.”
Damian shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed.
“Your brother was working against them.”
Another page.
Andrew discovered that the Hale operation had been infiltrated.
Martha frowned.
“Hale?”
Damian looked at the name.
“Another family.”
A photograph showed Andrew beside an older man.
Damian recognized him.
“My father.”
Martha looked closer.
Her brother had been meeting Damian's father shortly before he died.
The photograph was dated three weeks before the car crash.
Damian whispered:
“He wasn't stealing from me.”
“No.”
“He was trying to warn me.”
Martha looked at him.
“And they killed him for it.”
A noise came from upstairs.
Both froze.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Someone was inside.
Damian raised his gun.
Martha whispered:
“Could be Victor.”
“Stay behind me.”
They climbed.
The footsteps stopped.
A man stepped from the shadows.
Older.
Gray hair.
A scar across his face.
Damian stared.
“Lucian.”
May you like
The man smiled.
“Hello, nephew.”
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