Chapter 11 - The Voice Frank Left Behind|
The memory card was delivered to Luca's study two days later.
A digital forensic specialist named Rebecca Chen had carefully examined it and recovered several audio files.
She explained that the card was old and partly damaged, but much of its contents remained accessible.
More importantly, the recordings appeared to have been created before Frank's death.
They were not recordings from the fatal night itself.
Instead, they documented a series of meetings during the weeks leading up to it.
Gideon asked us to gather in the sitting room.
Rosa sat between Luca and Olivia.
Matteo stood near the fireplace.
Abigail placed the financial records on a side table.
I remained beside Rosa, holding a glass of water she hadn't touched.
Rebecca connected her laptop to a speaker.
"Before we begin, I want everyone to understand something."
She looked toward Luca.
"These recordings should be preserved and independently authenticated."
Luca nodded.
"Understood."
Rebecca opened the first file.
A faint crackling sound filled the room.
Then we heard a man's voice.
"I've checked the accounts twice."
Rosa gasped.
"Frank."
Her hand flew to her mouth.
The voice was older, slightly rough, and unmistakably his.
For a moment, nobody moved.
It was the first time Rosa had heard her husband's voice since the funeral.
Frank continued speaking.
"Three million dollars doesn't simply disappear because someone calls it consulting."
Another voice answered.
Julian Cross.
"You're misunderstanding the structure of the transactions."
Frank gave a bitter laugh.
"I understand numbers perfectly well, Julian."
The recording crackled.
Then a woman's voice spoke.
"Mr. Moretti, perhaps we should discuss this when you're feeling less emotional."
Vanessa.
I looked toward Luca.
His jaw had tightened.
Frank answered immediately.
"Don't you dare speak to me as though I'm a confused old man."
A long silence followed on the recording.
Then Frank spoke again.
"And don't you dare put Rosa's name on another document she hasn't seen."
My heart pounded.
Rosa began crying quietly.
Luca squeezed her hand.
The recording continued.
Cross claimed that certain financial arrangements had been approved by the board.
Frank demanded the original authorizations.
Vanessa insisted everything could be resolved privately.
Then Frank said something that made Luca close his eyes.
"I've spent too many years pretending that money can make wrong things right."
His voice grew tired.
"I won't spend the years I have left stealing from people who trusted my family."
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Rebecca opened another file.
This one was Frank speaking alone.
The date was three days before his death.
"If anything happens before I finish this investigation, I want my children to know that their mother had nothing to do with these transfers."
Rosa pressed her hands against her face.
Frank continued.
"Rosa has never cared about the size of our fortune."
"She cares whether the people who come to our kitchen leave with something to eat."
His voice softened.
"I should have listened to her more often."
Luca bowed his head.
Then Frank spoke directly to him.
"Luca, if you ever hear this, I want you to understand something."
Luca's shoulders stiffened.
"I know we've argued."
"I know you're angry with me."
"But being a father means telling your son the truth even when he doesn't want to hear it."
Frank paused.
"You are stronger than the life you've chosen."
"You don't have to spend your future paying for the mistakes of your past."
Luca covered his eyes with one hand.
Frank's voice grew quiet.
"And when you finally decide to leave that life behind, I hope you'll come home to dinner."
The recording stopped.
For several seconds, the only sound was Rosa crying.
Then Luca stood and walked toward the window.
I watched his shoulders rise and fall.
Matteo moved beside him.
"Luc."
It was the first time I'd heard anyone use that childhood nickname.
Luca didn't turn.
"I argued with him that afternoon."
Matteo said nothing.
"Papa wanted me to shut down several businesses."
Luca swallowed.
"I told him he had no idea what he was asking."
Matteo looked down.
"I remember."
"I said some things I can never take back."
Luca's voice broke.
"Then I went to Detroit."
He pressed his fist against the window frame.
"And the next time I saw him, he was lying in a coffin."
Matteo placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"Papa knew you loved him."
Luca shook his head.
"I never got to say I was sorry."
Rosa slowly rose.
Olivia helped her cross the room.
She stood behind her son and touched his back.
"Your father knew."
Luca turned.
"Mama—"
"He knew you were stubborn."
She managed a tearful smile.
"Goodness knows, you inherited that from both of us."
Luca laughed once through his tears.
Rosa took his face between her hands.
"He was waiting for you to find your way home."
Luca embraced her.
And for the first time since I'd known him, he cried openly.
Not like a mafia boss.
Not like a man whose name frightened people across Chicago.
But like a son who had finally heard his father's voice again.
After a while, Gideon quietly returned to the recovered files.
"The recordings establish that Frank was investigating the transfers."
He looked at Abigail.
"They also support the allegation that documents bearing Rosa's name were being used without her knowledge."
Abigail nodded.
"But we still need evidence of what happened during the emergency."
Rebecca looked toward her laptop.
"There's something else you should know."
Luca raised his head.
"What?"
"The card includes a reference file for the remote surveillance archive."
Anthony stepped forward.
"The Ash Street workshop?"
Rebecca nodded.
"The system was configured to retain encrypted copies of recordings from the mansion."
Gideon frowned.
"Are those copies still there?"
"Possibly."
She turned the laptop toward him.
"But somebody recently accessed the archive administrator account."
Anthony leaned closer.
"When?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
Luca's expression hardened.
"Who?"
Rebecca pointed toward an account name.
The registered administrator was Julian Cross's office.
Then she showed us a scheduled maintenance order.
It listed a complete archival data purge.
The date was tomorrow.
The time was six in the morning.
I stared at the screen.
Rosa whispered, "They want to erase him."
Luca slowly straightened.
"No, Mama."
He reached for his coat.
"They've been trying to erase the truth."
May you like
His voice became firm.
"But tomorrow morning, they won't be the ones deciding what survives."
