Chapter 9 - THE HOUSE BESIDE THE LAKE|
The following morning, we drove toward Lake Geneva beneath a sky heavy with gray clouds.
Frank sat beside me in the back seat.
Luca rode in front with Rafael, while another security vehicle followed at a distance.
Detective Serrano had been informed about our destination and was coordinating with local authorities.
I wished Frank had agreed to remain somewhere safe.
But the old man had refused.
"That house belonged to Elena," he told Luca.
"If there's something hidden there, I know where to find it."
For most of the drive, nobody spoke.
Then Frank asked me to open the small bag beside his feet.
Inside was an old photograph.
It showed a younger Luca standing between his parents on a wooden dock.
His mother had one arm around him.
His father was smiling beneath a straw hat.
"That was the summer Luca turned sixteen," Frank said.
I smiled.
"He looks happy."
"He was."
Frank touched the photograph.
"Before the business became everything."
"Before he forgot that the world was bigger than the people who feared him."
Luca glanced into the rearview mirror.
"I can hear you, Dad."
"Good," Frank replied.
"Maybe you'll finally listen."
For the first time in two days, Luca laughed.
The cottage stood behind a line of tall trees overlooking the dark blue water.
It was smaller than I expected.
White wooden shutters framed the windows.
A porch wrapped around the front.
And an old wooden swing moved gently in the wind.
Frank stared at it for a long moment.
"Your mother used to sit there every morning," he told Luca.
"Even when she was sick."
Luca stepped out of the car and looked toward the porch.
"Why did we stop coming here?"
Frank lowered his eyes.
"Because after she died, remembering her hurt too much."
Inside, the cottage smelled faintly of cedar and old books.
A faded quilt lay across the living room sofa.
Photographs covered the mantel.
I found myself wondering how many important family memories could be hidden inside places people stopped visiting.
Frank led us toward a narrow study at the back of the house.
He pointed to a wooden cabinet beneath the window.
"That's the one."
I used the brass key from the green book.
The lock turned immediately.
Inside were three sealed envelopes, a leather-bound ledger, and a small metal box.
Luca opened the ledger.
It contained handwritten entries documenting payments to companies connected to Elias Voss.
Several entries had been marked in red.
Beside them, Elena Moretti had written warnings about unidentified transfers, missing invoices, and suspicious property transactions.
The documents were years old, but they described a pattern disturbingly similar to the current scheme.
Rafael photographed the contents for investigators.
Then Luca opened the first envelope.
It contained letters Elena had sent to independent attorneys and financial advisers before her death.
She had suspected Voss was trying to gain control of family properties through dishonest arrangements.
Another envelope contained a copy of an agreement bearing Voss's signature and a detailed list of assets he had once tried to acquire.
Frank sat slowly.
"She knew he would come back."
Luca shook his head.
"Why didn't you show me any of this?"
"I wanted to protect the last peaceful memories we had of her."
His eyes filled with regret.
"But hiding the truth didn't protect anyone."
I opened the metal box.
Inside was a small photograph and a handwritten note.
The photograph showed Elena standing beside Daniel Price, the driver who would later die saving Luca.
The note was addressed to Daniel.
If anything happens to me, make sure my son eventually learns who Elias Voss really is.
Luca took the photograph from my hands.
His expression collapsed.
"Daniel knew?"
Frank nodded.
"Your mother trusted him."
Luca pressed the photograph against his chest.
For a moment, he looked less like a powerful businessman and more like a son discovering that the people who loved him had spent years trying to keep him safe.
Then a car door slammed outside.
Rafael moved toward the window.
"Someone's here."
Luca immediately stood.
"Who?"
Rafael looked toward the driveway.
His expression changed.
"Caleb Dunn."
Frank rose from his chair.
His former security escort stood beside a black van.
Another man waited near the porch.
And behind them was Graham Hale.
Only now, there was nothing harmless about his expression.
Elias Voss looked directly through the window.
He smiled.
"Stay away from the door," Rafael ordered.
He reached for his phone to alert the authorities.
But before anyone could move, the back door opened.
A man who had entered through the unlocked utility entrance stepped into the study.
He held a gun.
"Nobody moves."
Luca instinctively stepped in front of me.
Frank straightened his back.
"Tell Elias to come inside."
The armed man hesitated.
Frank's voice remained steady.
"If he wants me, he can look me in the eyes."
Moments later, Voss entered the room.
His reconstructed face looked unnatural beneath the gray daylight.
The scar below his jaw disappeared into his collar.
He glanced at the ledger.
"Elena always was thorough."
Luca stepped forward.
"Leave my father out of this."
Voss laughed.
"Your father is the only reason I'm here."
He nodded toward the old man.
"Come with me, Frank."
"No," I whispered.
Voss looked at me.
"Or I can start with the maid."
Frank immediately stepped between us.
"Don't touch her."
"Then walk."
Rafael remained motionless, his attention fixed on the armed man beside the doorway.
Luca clenched his fists.
"Dad, don't."
Frank turned toward his son.
"Listen carefully, Luca."
His voice shook, but he held his head high.
"Take care of Claire."
"Protect those tenants."
"And don't let him turn you into the man you used to be."
Then Elias Voss seized Frank's arm.
I screamed his name as they forced him toward the van.
By the time Rafael could safely move after the armed men withdrew, the vehicle was already racing down the driveway.
The sound of its engine faded into the distance.
Luca stood frozen on the porch.
May you like
His father was gone.
And the only thing Frank had left behind was the old photograph of his wife.
