Chapter 6 - The Basement Beneath My Childhood
The old hotel had been abandoned for years.
We entered through a broken side door.
The basement smelled of dust and rust.
I remembered this place.
I had waited here for my mother when I was eight.
She had been cleaning upstairs.
I remembered the freezing floor.
The flickering lights.
The sound of washing machines.
Then I saw it.
A small storage room.
The door was painted blue.
My mother used to tell me never to enter.
I opened it.
Inside was an old metal box.
Marcus forced the lock.
A cassette tape lay inside.
Along with photographs.
Documents.
And a handwritten note from my father.
I picked it up.
Luca,
If you find this, you are old enough to know the truth.
I sat on the floor.
My father had known.
He had known someone wanted him dead.
He had known my mother was being threatened.
And he had tried to protect me.
The tape contained a conversation.
Victor's father.
My father.
And another voice.
Harland.
I listened.
They were discussing money.
Control.
And eventually, my father's death.
Then Harland said something that made my blood freeze.
“The boy?”
Victor's father answered.
“Leave him.”
“Why?”
“Fear will make him easier to control.”
I stopped the tape.
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
My entire childhood had been manipulated.
My fear.
My anger.
My ambition.
Everything.
I had become the man they expected me to become.
Except I had turned against them.
That was the one thing they hadn't planned.
Then footsteps echoed through the basement.
Marcus raised his weapon.
“Someone's here.”
We turned.
Victor Hale stepped from the shadows.
He was alone.
“You found it.”
I stood.
“You killed my father.”
Victor shook his head.
“My father did.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was sixteen.”
He looked older than I remembered.
Tired.
Almost broken.
“My father controlled everything.”
I stepped closer.
“And now you're doing the same.”
Victor laughed.
“You think I wanted this?”
“You kidnapped Nora's mother.”
“I never touched her.”
“You hired Harland.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed leverage.”
I stared at him.
“You poisoned her.”
Victor's expression changed.
“I didn't know.”
“You didn't care.”
He looked away.
Then he said,
“I was trying to get your attention.”
I shook my head.
“You could have called.”
“You wouldn't have listened.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“I wouldn't have.”
“Why?”
“Because men like you only speak when you think you have power.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
Then he reached into his coat.
I tensed.
He pulled out a photograph.
My father holding me as a child.
On the back was a message.
Protect the boy.
Victor handed it to me.
“My father ordered the hit.”
He paused.
“I stopped it.”
“What?”
“Your father wasn't killed by him.”
I stared.
“Then who killed him?”
Victor's voice cracked.
“My father ordered it.”
“But someone else carried it out.”
“Who?”
Victor looked at me.
“Your mother.”
The words hit like a bullet.
I couldn't move.
My mother had lied.
She hadn't just known.
She had been there.
I walked away.
May you like
For the first time in my life, I didn't know who my enemy was.
Because the woman who had taught me to survive might have been the person who destroyed my father.
