Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
Lucy refused to sleep.
Raffaele found her sitting beneath her blankets with Sofia’s photograph in her lap.
“Hey.”
Lucy looked up.
“Are you mad at me?”
The question broke something inside him.
He sat beside her.
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because Aunt Celeste told me grown-up things can hurt families.”
Raffaele swallowed.
“Secrets hurt families. Truth doesn’t.”
Lucy considered that.
Then she touched the photograph.
“I found this behind Grandma’s books.”
Raffaele frowned.
“My mother’s books?”
Lucy nodded.
Grandmother Isabella Moretti had died two years after Sofia.
Her library had remained untouched ever since.
“What were you doing in there?”
“Looking for a book about horses.”
Of course.
Lucy loved horses.
She turned the frame over.
“There’s writing.”
Raffaele took it.
On the back, in Sofia’s handwriting, were six words.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS, ASK ABOUT M.V.
Raffaele felt cold.
M.V.
Marcus Vale.
He looked at Lucy.
“When did you find this?”
“Today.”
“And Celeste saw it?”
Lucy nodded.
“She got scared.”
Raffaele’s heart began pounding.
“What did she say?”
Lucy squeezed the blanket.
“She told Uncle Marcus that if you saw the picture, everything would come out.”
Raffaele sat very still.
“And then?”
“They started packing.”
He closed his eyes.
There it was.
Not suspicion.
Not coincidence.
Fear.
His sister had been running because Lucy found Sofia’s message.
Raffaele kissed Lucy’s forehead.
“You did the right thing telling me.”
“She said Mommy was going to ruin everything.”
“Who said that?”
“Aunt Celeste.”
His stomach turned.
Lucy continued.
“She said Mommy should’ve just left it alone.”
Raffaele stood.
“Try to sleep.”
“Daddy?”
He stopped.
“Did Aunt Celeste hurt Mommy?”
He wanted to say no.
He wanted to protect his daughter with a lie.
But lies were how they got here.
“I don’t know yet.”
Lucy looked down.
Raffaele added, “But I’m going to find out.”
When he returned downstairs, Dante was waiting.
His security chief had been with him for fifteen years.
Dante placed a folder on the desk.
“You’re not going to like this.”
“Open it.”
“The original police report is missing.”
Raffaele frowned.
“Missing?”
“Not just from our files. From the county archive.”
“How does a police report disappear?”
Dante looked at Celeste.
She was sitting silently across the room.
“It doesn’t.”
Raffaele’s eyes narrowed.
“What else?”
“The responding officer retired six months after Sofia’s crash. Moved to Florida. Died three years later.”
“Medical examiner?”
“Report was amended.”
“By who?”
“County office.”
“Why?”
“Original cause listed possible blunt-force trauma before impact.”
Silence.
Raffaele looked up.
“Say that again.”
Dante’s face was grim.
“Sofia may have been injured before the car went over the guardrail.”
Celeste began crying.
Marcus cursed under his breath.
Raffaele turned toward his sister.
“You knew.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“You knew.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“But you knew something.”
Celeste pressed both hands over her mouth.
Raffaele slammed his palm on the table.
“What did you know?”
She flinched.
“I knew Sofia was meeting someone that night.”
“Who?”
Celeste looked at Marcus.
Marcus barked, “Don’t.”
Raffaele’s patience snapped.
“Who?”
Celeste whispered, “Marcus.”
Raffaele stared at him.
Marcus took a step backward.
Raffaele spoke quietly.
“My wife met you the night she died.”
Marcus’s eyes hardened.
“She wanted to talk.”
“About what?”
Celeste answered.
“Money.”
Raffaele turned.
“What money?”
May you like
Celeste’s next words changed the entire case.
“Forty million dollars that disappeared from your company.”
