Chapter 3 - The Woman Behind the Locked Door
Three days later, Lucas woke up.
The bunker had no clocks.
That was intentional.
No windows.
No phones except controlled lines.
No visitors without Damian's approval.
I hated it.
Every room smelled like disinfectant and expensive fear.
Sofia brought me coffee every morning.
"You sleep?"
"No."
"Good."
She set down another cup.
"You're adapting."
"I'd rather be home."
"You don't have one."
I looked at her.
She knew.
"How do you know?"
"Damian knows everything about everyone inside this building."
"That's comforting."
"No."
She smiled slightly.
"It's terrifying."
Lucas was finally stable enough to talk.
Damian wanted to question him.
I insisted I be present.
Not because I trusted Damian.
Because I didn't trust anyone else.
Lucas looked weak.
His face was pale.
But his eyes were clear.
"Someone inside the organization betrayed us."
Damian sat across from the bed.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Think."
"I was meeting someone."
"Who?"
Lucas hesitated.
"Bell."
My stomach tightened.
Dr. Bell.
Damian leaned forward.
"What were you discussing?"
"Your father."
Silence.
Damian's face became expressionless.
"Which father?"
Lucas looked confused.
"Your father."
Damian smiled without humor.
"My father has been dead for fifteen years."
"Not him."
Lucas looked at me.
"Robert Hayes."
My pulse quickened.
"What did Bell know about my father?"
"He said your father kept a secondary ledger."
Damian looked at me.
"What ledger?"
I stared at the floor.
"I don't know."
Lucas whispered.
"He believed you knew."
"Why would he think that?"
"Because your father left you something."
My cracked wristwatch.
Suddenly I remembered.
The night after my father died, I'd found the old watch in his apartment.
I'd kept it because it was the only thing of his that felt valuable.
I'd never worn it.
It had stopped at 3:17.
My father's time of death.
I pulled it from my bag.
Damian stared.
"Where did you get that?"
"My father."
Sofia took it.
She inspected the back.
Then looked at Damian.
"It's engraved."
I turned it over.
Tiny letters.
D.C.
I looked at Damian.
"D.C."
His expression went still.
"My father gave this to your father."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Lucas stared at the watch.
"Open it."
"There is no compartment."
"Try."
Sofia used a thin blade.
The back panel shifted.
A tiny memory card fell into her hand.
My breath caught.
Damian stood.
"Nobody touches that."
He took the card.
"Why?"
"Because if your father hid it, he didn't want it found."
Lucas laughed weakly.
"That's the point."
Damian looked at him.
Lucas smiled.
"Maybe he wanted the right person to find it."
Then the room lights flickered.
Sofia's phone vibrated.
She read the message.
"Someone accessed the bunker entrance."
Damian's face hardened.
"How?"
She checked.
"Internal authorization."
He looked at me.
No one spoke.
Someone inside the organization had betrayed them.
Again.
The bunker doors sealed.
Men moved into position.
Damian pulled me behind him.
"I can stand on my own."
"I know."
"Then stop shielding me."
"I'd rather you hate me alive than thank me dead."
That sentence stayed in my head.
Then gunfire erupted outside.
The battle lasted seven minutes.
When it ended, three attackers were dead.
One was alive.
He was dragged into the room.
Damian recognized him.
"Michael."
The man's face was swollen.
"Boss."
"Who opened the bunker?"
Michael didn't answer.
Damian pointed to me.
"She dies if you lie."
I stepped forward.
"Don't."
Damian glanced at me.
I crouched beside Michael.
He was terrified.
Not of me.
Of someone else.
"Who are you afraid of?"
His eyes filled with tears.
"The Falcones."
"Who gave you the access code?"
He whispered.
"Someone named Isabella."
Sofia's face changed.
"Isabella?"
I looked at her.
"Who?"
"Damian's fiancée."
I turned toward Damian.
"You have a fiancée?"
He didn't speak.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Then the door opened.
A woman in a white coat entered.
Long blonde hair.
Perfect makeup.
Diamond earrings.
Isabella Moretti.
She looked at Damian.
Then at me.
Her smile was polite.
Too polite.
"Darling."
Damian's voice became flat.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see Lucas."
Her eyes moved toward me.
"And your new nurse."
I didn't like the way she said nurse.
I liked it even less when she looked at the medical bag beside me.
"I heard she saved his life."
"She did."
Isabella smiled.
"How wonderful."
Then she walked toward me.
"I owe you my gratitude."
Something in her expression made my skin crawl.
I didn't move.
She stopped close enough to whisper.
"You really shouldn't have come into this world."
My heart froze.
Before I could respond, she turned away.
Damian watched her.
"Leave."
She looked surprised.
"Damian."
"Now."
She did.
But just before the door closed, she glanced at me one last time.
The smile was gone.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
At 2:14 a.m., I heard footsteps outside my room.
The door opened.
Damian stood there.
"You should be asleep."
"I don't trust your fiancée."
"Neither do I."
I stared at him.
"Then why is she still alive?"
"Because I need proof."
I looked away.
"People keep telling me about proof."
He came closer.
"Your father left something that can destroy half this city."
"The ledger."
"Yes."
"And the watch?"
"Not the ledger."
He held up the memory card.
"This contains only an audio recording."
He looked at me.
"Your father's voice."
My heart stopped.
"You listened to it?"
"Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I want you there."
We entered a private office.
Damian inserted the card.
Static.
Then my father's voice.
Older.
Tired.
Afraid.
"If Amelia is hearing this, I'm dead."
I covered my mouth.
Damian's jaw tightened.
My father continued.
"The ledger is not the dangerous part."
Static.
"The dangerous part is the name of the man who ordered me to create it."
My pulse raced.
Then my father said the name.
I looked at Damian.
The recording continued.
"Damian Costa is not the man you should fear."
Static.
"The man you should fear is the man who taught him how to survive."
The recording ended.
I stared at Damian.
"Who is that?"
He didn't answer.
His face had gone pale.
Because he knew.
"My uncle."
I whispered.
"Matteo Costa."
The dead man who had supposedly been buried sixteen years ago.
May you like
Damian looked at me.
"He's alive."
