Chapter 3 - THE SECRET INSIDE THE GREEN BOOK|
"No."
Frank Moretti said the word so softly that I almost didn't hear it.
I was kneeling beside him at the bottom of the secret staircase, trying to fit his trembling key into the lock.
"No," he repeated.
"Elena didn't die because of that book."
Above us, Elias Voss laughed again.
"Are you absolutely certain, Frank?"
Luca stepped between his father and the darkness.
"Come down here and say that to my face."
But the footsteps stopped.
"Still issuing orders, Luca?" Voss called.
"Your father built an empire, and you inherited the arrogance without learning the business."
A sharp metallic sound followed.
Luca grabbed my shoulder.
"Claire, get that door open."
My hands shook so badly that the key slipped twice.
Finally, the lock turned.
I pushed the door inward and discovered an abandoned pantry lined with dusty shelves.
The air smelled of old wood and dried herbs.
I helped Frank inside while Luca pulled the door shut behind us.
A moment later, something heavy slammed against it from the staircase.
We hurried through the pantry and reached a narrow corridor connecting the kitchen to the laundry rooms.
The mansion was strangely quiet.
No music.
No servants.
Not even the usual distant conversations from the security staff.
"Where is everyone?" I whispered.
"Vanessa sent most of the employees home after dinner," Frank replied.
"She said tomorrow would be a difficult day."
Luca stared at him.
"She planned this."
Frank nodded.
"Longer than you know."
We reached the small morning room beside the garden, where Frank finally sat down.
I brought him water while Luca called Rafael again.
His head of security was approaching the estate with two trusted officers, but the front security gate had already been locked electronically.
Luca instructed him to contact the police.
Then he turned toward his father.
"Dad, what did Voss mean about Mom?"
Frank looked toward the garden windows.
For several moments, he said nothing.
"Your mother discovered that Elias was stealing from our companies years before you knew he was an enemy."
Luca folded his arms.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"She tried."
Frank's voice grew stronger.
"But you were young, angry, and convinced that every warning was an attempt to control you."
Luca lowered his gaze.
I had never seen anyone speak to the powerful mafia boss that way.
More surprisingly, I had never seen him accept it without arguing.
Frank continued.
"Elena found fraudulent transfers hidden inside the family accounts."
"She believed Voss was buying our properties through companies that concealed his ownership."
"She insisted we establish a family trust so no one could sell the homes without proper approval."
Luca glanced at the folder in my hands.
"Then those agreements are worthless."
"Not automatically," Frank replied.
"Forged papers can still cause terrible damage before the courts stop them."
He reached for my hand.
"Claire, the green book is an old architectural atlas."
"It has a broken corner and a gold line across the spine."
"Your mother kept it on the highest shelf because nobody ever opened it."
I remembered seeing the volume when I climbed the ladder earlier.
"What is inside?"
"The original trust documents," Frank answered.
"And a letter Elena wrote before she died."
Luca went still.
"My mother left me a letter?"
Frank nodded.
"She wanted you to read it when you were ready to understand why she protected these properties."
A noise came from the kitchen.
All three of us turned.
The door opened, and Margaret Doyle, the Moretti family's sixty-seven-year-old head housekeeper, entered carrying a flashlight.
"Mr. Moretti!"
She hurried toward Frank.
"I've been looking everywhere for you."
I immediately stepped between them.
"Where's Vanessa?"
Margaret's expression changed.
"She told me you were dismissed, Claire."
"And she said Mr. Frank had become violent."
Luca looked up sharply.
"Did you believe her?"
Margaret straightened her back.
"I have served this family for thirty-one years, Mr. Luca."
"I know the difference between a frightened old man and a dangerous one."
She glanced at the folder.
"Is it finally happening?"
Frank slowly nodded.
Margaret closed her eyes.
"I warned your mother that those people would come back."
Before I could ask what she meant, the kitchen telephone rang.
Margaret answered.
Her expression darkened as she listened.
Then she placed the receiver down.
"That was a man claiming to be from the private medical center," she said.
"He wants to know whether Mr. Frank has been restrained for transport."
Luca's face hardened.
"Transport where?"
Margaret hesitated.
"A residential memory-care facility outside Chicago."
Frank gripped the arms of his chair.
"I will not be taken from my home."
"No one is taking you anywhere against your will," Luca answered.
But Margaret had more news.
"There's something else."
She pulled a folded notice from her apron.
"I found this on Vanessa's desk while collecting the dinner trays."
Luca read it.
Then he handed it to me.
It was a notice of an emergency guardianship petition.
Vanessa had submitted sworn statements alleging that Frank could no longer understand financial decisions or manage his own safety.
A hearing had been requested for the following morning.
The attached medical evaluation claimed that Frank was incapable of recognizing his relatives.
I stared at the old man sitting beside me.
He had just remembered a secret door, identified a criminal fugitive, and explained the legal structure of his family's estate.
"They're trying to have him declared incompetent," I whispered.
"Yes," Frank answered.
He looked at his son.
"And once they convince the court that my mind is gone, they'll claim every warning I gave you was the imagination of a confused old man."
Luca crushed the notice in his fist.
But Margaret suddenly caught my arm.
"Claire, there's something you need to see."
She opened her phone and displayed a photograph taken earlier that evening.
It showed Graham Hale standing beside Vanessa in the mansion's east wing.
The man had silver hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and a deep scar running beneath his jaw.
In his hand was a black leather briefcase.
Margaret enlarged the photograph.
On his finger was a heavy gold ring bearing the image of a broken lion.
Frank stared at it.
"That ring belonged to Elias Voss."
Then Margaret whispered something that made my stomach drop.
"I took this photograph because I recognized the briefcase."
May you like
She looked directly at Luca.
"It belonged to your mother."
