Chapter 8 - Elena's Greatest LieThe words echoed through the vault long after Marcus stopped speaking.
Vincent looked at Elena without saying a word.
For the first time since they had fled into the tunnel, she lowered her eyes.
“I won't insult you by denying it,” she whispered.
Marcus leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the silence.
“Three years ago, I needed someone who could move through your house unnoticed. A maid was perfect. She cleaned your office, served your guests, and heard every conversation.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“So everything was an act?”
Elena closed her eyes.
“No.”
Marcus laughed.
“Tell him the whole story.”
She took a slow breath before speaking.
“When Marcus found me, I believed he was telling the truth. He said you murdered my father. He showed me forged documents, fake bank transfers, even witnesses who swore you had ordered Carlo's execution.”
Vincent remained silent.
“I hated you,” Elena admitted. “Every morning I served your coffee, I wanted to poison it.”
Marcus smiled at the confession.
“But something ruined my plan,” Elena continued.
“The first winter I worked here, one of the kitchen staff stole money from the household account. Everyone blamed me.”
Vincent remembered.
He had fired the accountant instead.
“You investigated before judging,” Elena said. “You proved I was innocent.”
Marcus rolled his eyes.
“One good deed doesn't erase a lifetime of blood.”
“No,” Elena replied, finally looking into the camera. “But lies don't become truth because you repeat them.”
Marcus's smile faded.
Elena reached into her pocket and removed a small digital recorder.
“I stopped working for you eighteen months ago.”
Marcus's expression hardened.
“You what?”
“I recorded every meeting. Every payment. Every order you gave.”
She placed the recorder on the table beside Vincent.
“You thought I was spying on him.”
“I was collecting evidence against you.”
Marcus stood abruptly, knocking over his whiskey glass.
“You're bluffing.”
“Am I?”
Elena pressed a button.
Marcus's own voice filled the vault.
“Once Uncle Vincent dies, bury Carlo's daughter beside him. Dead witnesses tell the best stories.”
The recording ended.
For the first time that night, Marcus looked genuinely shaken.
“You kept copies?” he demanded.
“Six copies,” Elena answered calmly.
“In six different places.”
Marcus's face twisted with rage.
“You think you've won?”
“No,” Elena said quietly.
“I think you've just become desperate.”
The monitor suddenly went black.
At that exact moment, the red warning light above the hidden exit changed to flashing yellow.
A computerized voice echoed through the vault.
“Security protocol overridden.”
Then another voice followed.
Not Marcus's.
Not Elena's.
A calm elderly man's recording, untouched for decades.
“If you are hearing this… then someone in the Torino family has betrayed their own blood.
May you like
Trust no one.
Especially the one who carries my name.”
