Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Dominic did not speak during the drive back.
Neither did Mave.
The blue box sat between them.
She could feel its weight through the leather seat.
A photograph.
A key.
A message.
And a question that had turned her entire life inside out.
Ask the woman who raised you.
Her mother was dead.
At least, that was what every official document said.
Dominic finally broke the silence.
“Where was she buried?”
“St. Michael's Cemetery.”
“Did you see her face?”
Mave hesitated.
“No.”
Dominic glanced toward her.
“Why not?”
“She was too sick near the end.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Mave looked out the window.
“My mother died in a hospice facility.”
“You saw the body?”
“No.”
“Did you attend the funeral?”
“Yes.”
“Closed casket?”
“Yes.”
Dominic's fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
“What if she never died?”
Mave laughed bitterly.
“Then I've spent twelve years grieving a woman who was never dead.”
He said nothing.
At the penthouse, Dominic's security team surrounded them.
Grigory had been moved downstairs under guard.
Dominic placed the old photograph under bright light.
It showed four people.
Lucien Laurent.
A younger Robert Rossi.
A woman Mave recognized as her mother.
And an unfamiliar man.
On the back was one date.
November 14, 2004.
Underneath it:
THE LAST NIGHT OF THE OLD ORDER.
Dominic stared at the photograph for a long time.
“My father.”
Mave pointed to the unfamiliar man.
“Who is he?”
Dominic shook his head.
“I've never seen him.”
“He's wearing your family's ring.”
Dominic looked closer.
A silver ring with a lion insignia.
“My grandfather's.”
Mave's breath caught.
“Then whoever he is, he was close to your family.”
Dominic called Marco.
“Bring me every photograph of my grandfather.”
Twenty minutes later, they found the man.
Antonio Rossi.
Dominic's grandfather.
Standing beside him was another person.
A young man with dark hair.
The same man in Mave's photograph.
His name was Adrian Rossi.
Dominic stared.
“My uncle.”
“You have an uncle?”
“Had.”
“When did he die?”
“Twenty-two years ago.”
Mave's expression turned strange.
“What year?”
“2004.”
She pointed to the photograph.
“This was taken after his supposed death.”
Dominic went still.
“Then he's alive.”
A cold silence settled over the room.
They searched.
Adrian Rossi had been declared dead after a boating accident.
No body had ever been recovered.
The family had held a funeral.
Dominic had been a child.
He barely remembered it.
His father had never discussed Adrian.
Mave looked at the photograph.
“Why would your uncle, my father, and my mother all be together?”
Dominic answered quietly.
“They were moving something.”
“The ledger.”
“Yes.”
“What was in it?”
Dominic hesitated.
“Names of politicians, financiers, law enforcement contacts, rival families, offshore accounts. Enough information to destroy half the people connected to organized crime in three countries.”
Mave stared at him.
“So someone has spent twenty-two years looking for it.”
“Yes.”
“Why haven't they found it?”
“Because they don't know who has it.”
Mave looked at the key.
“Maybe my father did.”
They examined the key.
There was a number engraved on it.
Dominic knew immediately.
“A locker.”
“Where?”
“Central train station.”
They went that night.
The station was nearly empty.
The locker hall smelled like wet coats and metal.
Locker 817 was at the very end.
Mave inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Inside was a canvas bag.
No ledger.
Only a cassette recorder, a passport, and a letter addressed to Mave.
She opened it.
Mave,
If you're reading this, I failed to protect you.
I need you to listen to the recording before you trust anyone.
Not Dominic.
Not Grigory.
Not the police.
Not even the woman you think is dead.
Your father's hands began to shake.
Mave read the sentence twice.
The recording was old.
Dominic found a battery-powered player.
Static filled the room.
Then Lucien's voice emerged.
“If they come for my daughter, tell her this. Languages are not just words. They are doors. Some doors keep people out. Others keep secrets in.”
Mave swallowed.
Lucien continued.
“The Rossi family isn't responsible for what happened.”
Dominic looked at her.
“What happened?”
The recording crackled.
“The betrayal came from inside.”
Mave's heart pounded.
“Your uncle Adrian was framed. Robert tried to expose it. Someone stopped him.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“Who?”
The voice on the tape paused.
Then:
“Eleanor.”
Mave looked at Dominic.
“Who is Eleanor?”
He did not answer.
“She was my grandmother's personal secretary.”
Dominic's face hardened.
“She died years ago.”
The recording continued.
“She wasn't the woman you think she was.”
Mave felt sick.
A final sound.
Footsteps.
Lucien whispered.
“They found me.”
The tape ended.
Silence.
Then a phone rang.
Dominic answered.
Grigory's voice came through.
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“You have the tape.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I gave it to your father.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
Grigory laughed.
“You still don't know which Rossi to fear.”
The line went dead.
That night, someone entered Dominic's penthouse.
Security caught the intruder before he reached Mave's room.
The man was dressed as maintenance staff.
He carried no weapon.
Only a photograph.
Dominic took it.
It showed Mave as a child.
Standing beside her mother.
On the back, someone had written:
SHE NEVER TOLD YOU WHO YOUR FATHER REALLY WAS.
Mave felt something inside her collapse.
Dominic looked at her.
“You deserve the truth.”
“I thought my father was Lucien.”
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“Maybe he was.”
“Then why would someone say he wasn't?”
The answer came from Grigory.
He shouted from downstairs.
“Because Lucien was not your biological father.”
Mave froze.
Every sound in the penthouse vanished.
Dominic slowly looked at her.
Grigory laughed.
“You want the ledger?”
May you like
He smiled.
“First, find Mave's real father.”
