Chapter 4 - THE SECOND LIE
Nico ran into the hallway.
“Rafe!”
No answer came.
He took the stairs two at a time.
Vivia followed despite Alessia shouting for her to stay back.
They reached the front hall.
The main doors stood open.
Cold night air swept across the marble.
A security guard ran inside from the courtyard.
“Rafe took a motorcycle.”
“Which direction?”
“South service road.”
Nico swore.
Vivia caught his arm.
“Why would he run?”
Nico looked at her.
“Because Mom said his name.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.”
“No.”
Vivia shook her head.
“He could have taken the USB before Marcella did.”
“He didn’t know Alessia made a copy.”
“He had twelve years to destroy the dress.”
“He didn’t know where it was.”
“He knew Mom.”
Nico’s anger flashed.
“So did Marcella.”
“That’s my point.”
Vivia stepped closer.
“Everyone keeps giving us one piece of the truth at a time.”
Nico stared at her.
“Marcella tells us Rafe lied.”
“She was right.”
“Rafe tells us Carlo ordered a killing.”
“Maybe he was right too.”
“Mom tells us she feared Rafe.”
“Yes.”
“But we haven’t heard why.”
Nico looked back toward the study.
Vivia lowered her voice.
“If Rafe wanted to hide the truth, why let us open the USB at all?”
Nico had no answer.
Alessia appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Nico.”
He looked up.
“I found something.”
They returned to the study.
The injured security guard had been taken downstairs for medical treatment.
The laptop now sat disconnected from every network.
Alessia had opened the folder labeled RAFE.
There were dozens of documents.
Surveillance photographs.
Phone records.
A scanned letter.
Two recordings.
The oldest photograph showed Rafe at twenty-three.
He stood outside a small machine shop in Newark beside an older man.
Vivia recognized him from family photographs.
“His father.”
Gino Moretti.
Gino had worked for Vincent Bellandi for decades.
Officially, he had managed fleet maintenance.
Unofficially, he knew every vehicle the Bellandi family owned.
Including Elena’s Mercedes.
Vivia stared at the date beneath the picture.
Three days before Michael D’Angelo died.
Nico opened the scanned letter.
It had been written by Elena.
Gino,
I know Carlo asked you to alter Michael’s car.
I also know you refused at first.
If you are willing to tell me who forced you to finish the work, I can protect Rafe.
Please do not call Vincent.
Please do not call Carlo.
Please meet me alone.
E.
Nico looked at Vivia.
“So Gino cut the brake line.”
“Maybe.”
Nico scrolled.
The next document was a bank transfer.
$240,000.
Recipient: MORETTI AUTOMOTIVE SERVICES.
Vivia whispered.
“That was the payment.”
Nico shook his head.
“Look at the date.”
The transfer had occurred six months after Michael’s death.
Not two days later.
The earlier document on the USB had shown a $240,000 transfer to a separate shell account.
This was another payment.
Alessia leaned toward the screen.
“Why pay twice?”
Nico opened a second scan.
This time the recipient was Rafe Moretti.
$240,000.
The payment was made one week after Elena’s death.
Vivia stepped back.
“No.”
Nico stared at it.
“That’s why he ran.”
Alessia did not look convinced.
“Or that’s why your mother created a folder with his name.”
Nico opened the first audio file.
Gino Moretti’s voice came through the speakers.
“I did what Carlo told me.”
Another voice answered.
Elena.
“What exactly did he tell you to do?”
There was a long pause.
“To make sure Michael didn’t reach Boston.”
Vivia looked away.
Elena asked another question.
“Why?”
“Michael had copies.”
“Copies of what?”
“Payments.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know.”
Gino began crying.
It was quiet.
Ashamed.
Then he whispered.
“Judges.”
Elena inhaled.
“Who forced you?”
Gino did not answer.
“Carlo?”
Silence.
“Vincent?”
Silence.
“Marcella?”
Gino finally spoke.
“They said they would take Rafe.”
The recording stopped.
Nico frowned.
“That doesn’t tell us who ‘they’ were.”
Alessia opened the second audio file.
This one had been recorded the night Elena died.
Rafe’s younger voice spoke first.
“Elena, slow down.”
“I cannot slow down.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m behind Carlo.”
“You promised you wouldn’t follow him.”
“He has the archive boxes.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“Listen to me.”
Rain hammered somewhere in the background.
“If I don’t call you in twenty minutes, take Vivia out of the house.”
Nico looked at his sister.
Vivia stared at the speakers.
Rafe answered.
“What about Nico?”
“He’s at school.”
“I’ll get him too.”
“No.”
Elena sounded terrified.
“You cannot go near him.”
“Why?”
“Because Vincent knows you’ve been helping me.”
The room went silent.
Rafe said something too quietly to understand.
Then Elena spoke again.
“My husband thinks your father told you what happened to Michael.”
Nico stared at the screen.
Rafe answered.
“He did.”
Elena inhaled.
“Then leave.”
“No.”
“Rafe, please.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
The call ended.
Nico replayed the last fifteen seconds.
Then again.
His anger began giving way to confusion.
Vivia whispered.
“Mom wasn’t afraid Rafe would hurt her.”
“No.”
“She was afraid Dad would hurt him.”
Nico looked toward Vincent’s photograph.
His father suddenly seemed like a stranger inside his own frame.
Alessia opened another document.
It was an insurance policy on Gino Moretti.
The beneficiary was Rafe.
The amount was $240,000.
Nico stared at it.
“That payment after Mom died…”
“Wasn’t a payoff,” Alessia said.
“It was life insurance.”
Vivia turned.
“Gino died too?”
Nico nodded slowly.
“Three days after Mom.”
Officially, Gino Moretti had suffered a heart attack.
Rafe had disappeared from the Bellandi family for nearly a year afterward.
When he returned, Vincent hired him personally.
At the time, Nico thought Vincent had done it out of guilt.
Now the gesture looked different.
Nico pulled out his phone.
He called Rafe.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
The third call connected.
Nico heard wind.
A motorcycle engine.
“Where are you?”
Rafe answered immediately.
“Going to Box 317.”
Nico almost laughed.
“The bank closed nine years ago.”
“The branch moved its private vault.”
“Where?”
“White Plains.”
“You stole the key.”
“Yes.”
“Come back.”
“No.”
Nico’s voice hardened.
“That wasn’t a request.”
Rafe laughed once.
“You sound like your father.”
The words landed badly.
Rafe knew it.
“Nico—”
“Why are you running?”
“Because Marcella saw the key.”
“So?”
“So she knows what is inside that box.”
“What?”
Rafe was silent.
“Rafe.”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I know your mother got the key from Michael D’Angelo.”
Nico froze.
“Michael?”
“Yes.”
“Before he died?”
“Two days before.”
Nico looked at Vivia.
“Why would he give Mom a bank key?”
“Because Michael was the one moving money for Carlo.”
Nico gripped the phone.
“What was Michael D’Angelo’s job?”
There was a pause.
“Bellandi Holdings chief financial officer.”
Nico felt sick.
Daniel Mercer had held the same job for eleven years.
Rafe continued.
“Michael found the shell companies.”
Nico looked toward the window where Daniel Mercer had driven Marcella and Carlo away.
The pattern had repeated.
Another CFO.
Another set of secrets.
Another vehicle disappearing into the night.
“Rafe, stop.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Marcella doesn’t need the USB anymore.”
“What does she need?”
“The box.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the key is the only thing she physically carried from your mother’s crash for twelve years.”
Nico thought about that.
Rafe continued.
“If she kept it, she was waiting for someone to find out what it opened.”
Nico looked at the laptop.
“Rafe.”
“Yes?”
“Mom said Dad told her Carlo wasn’t the person she should fear.”
“I heard.”
“She said your name.”
“I heard that too.”
“Why?”
The motorcycle noise disappeared.
Rafe had stopped somewhere.
For several seconds, only his breathing came through the phone.
Then he said something Nico never expected.
“Because I was the last person your father sent to bring her home.”
Nico closed his eyes.
“Did he know she would die?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did you touch her car?”
“No.”
“Did your father?”
Silence.
“Rafe.”
“My father serviced it that morning.”
Vivia covered her mouth.
Nico’s voice dropped.
“You said Carlo was the one.”
“For Michael.”
“What about Mom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why did you never tell us?”
Rafe breathed into the phone.
“Because when I reached Elena’s wreck, she wasn’t alone.”
Nico went still.
“Who was there?”
“She was in the driver’s seat.”
Rafe’s voice became strained.
“And someone was standing outside the passenger door.”
Nico could barely speak.
“Who?”
“The person who paid my father’s insurance policy.”
“That policy paid you.”
“No.”
Rafe paused.
“The money came from the insurer.”
“Then who?”
“I mean the premium.”
Nico stared at the documents.
“The policy was opened one month before Elena died.”
“Who paid for it?”
Rafe answered.
“Vincent.”
Nico looked up at his father’s photograph.
Then Rafe delivered the rest.
May you like
“And Vincent was the man standing beside your mother’s wreck.”
---
