Chapter 8 - Three Hours of Air
Carlo immediately searched the vault for a mechanical release.
There was none.
The court officers tried their radios.
No signal penetrated the concrete.
Their phones were useless.
Marcello stared at the oxygen timer.
02:56:41.
Isabella looked toward Salvatore.
“How did they know?”
Salvatore’s first thought was Francesca.
His second was Dante.
His third was worse.
Someone closer had betrayed them.
Carlo checked the door.
“The lock was triggered externally.”
“Can we break it?”
“No.”
“Can we override it?”
“Possibly.”
Salvatore looked toward Vittorio’s desk.
His father built contingencies.
That had become the rule.
He began opening drawers.
Marcello searched the shelves.
Isabella examined the wall panels.
Carlo looked behind storage cases.
Salvatore found another handwritten note taped beneath the desk.
IF YOU ARE TRAPPED, ASK YOURSELF WHY I BUILT A ROOM WITH NO CLOCK.
Salvatore looked at the oxygen countdown.
Marcello frowned.
“That is definitely a clock.”
“No.”
Salvatore pointed.
“That was added to the security interface.”
He looked around.
There were no normal clocks.
No watches mounted.
No timers.
Why mention it?
Carlo studied the note.
“Maybe time is the password.”
Salvatore remembered Alessandro’s birthday.
417.
He entered it on the wall screen.
Nothing.
Vittorio’s official birthday.
0417 again.
No.
Emery’s birthday.
922.
Nothing.
Francesca’s.
614.
Nothing.
Marcello spoke.
“Your father hated digital locks.”
Salvatore looked toward the shelves.
“He liked mechanisms.”
They began searching physically.
Isabella noticed a large antique map of Italy mounted on the wall.
No clock.
But the city of Ravenna had been marked with a small brass pin.
She pressed it.
Nothing happened.
Salvatore rotated the pin.
A hidden panel opened.
Inside was a mechanical handle.
Carlo pulled it.
A section of shelving shifted.
Behind it stood a narrow emergency corridor.
Marcello exhaled.
“I am beginning to forgive your father’s obsession with puzzles.”
Carlo pointed toward the timer.
“Save the forgiveness until we’re outside.”
They entered the corridor.
It led upward through the concrete foundation.
At the end was another door.
This one opened into the ruined warehouse.
Cold air rushed in.
Salvatore stepped outside.
Snow drifted through holes in the burned roof.
A vehicle engine started nearby.
Carlo ran toward the sound.
A black car raced away.
One court officer photographed the license plate.
Salvatore looked around.
Someone had entered the perimeter despite active fire-investigation security.
That required credentials.
Carlo called the security supervisor.
A temporary guard had been added that afternoon.
His name was Michael Trent.
The identification was fake.
He had disappeared.
Salvatore called Anna immediately.
Emery was safe.
His shoulders loosened slightly.
Then Anna said something strange.
“She received a package.”
Salvatore froze.
“What?”
“Delivered by courier.”
“From whom?”
“No return name.”
“Do not open it.”
“We didn’t.”
Salvatore looked at Carlo.
The trap in Ravenna and the package had happened almost simultaneously.
Someone was coordinating.
They returned to the Russo property.
A bomb technician examined the package first.
It contained no explosive.
Inside was a red velvet jewelry box.
Emery watched from the hallway.
Salvatore opened it.
A gold bracelet lay inside.
Francesca’s bracelet.
Salvatore recognized it because she had worn it for decades.
Underneath was a note.
ASK YOUR MOTHER WHAT SHE TRADED FOR THIS.
Salvatore called Francesca.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
He called her security director.
The man sounded confused.
“Mrs. DeLuca left three hours ago.”
“With Dante?”
“No.”
“Where?”
“She said she was meeting you.”
Salvatore felt cold.
“I never asked to meet her.”
Carlo immediately began tracking cameras near the estate.
Francesca’s car appeared leaving at 8:11 p.m.
Ten miles later, it stopped at a gas station.
Francesca got out.
A second vehicle arrived.
She entered it voluntarily.
The vehicle belonged to a company tied to Dante.
Salvatore stared at the footage.
“Dante took her.”
Marcello shook his head.
“She went willingly.”
“At first.”
The gold bracelet suggested something changed later.
Isabella looked toward Salvatore.
“Maybe Dante learned Vittorio knew the truth about his father.”
Salvatore still had not finished the letter.
He returned to Vittorio’s pages.
The others gathered around.
He read.
FRANCESCA BELIEVED ALESSANDRO FATHERED DANTE BECAUSE A MAN PRETENDING TO SPEAK FOR MY BROTHER TOLD HER SO.
SHE NEVER SPOKE TO ALESSANDRO AFTER THEIR FINAL LETTER.
SHE WAS ASHAMED.
THE MAN WHO CONTACTED HER WAS ROBERTO DELUCA.
Salvatore stopped.
Roberto.
Dante’s supposed adoptive father.
The man allegedly killed in the boating accident.
Vittorio continued.
ROBERTO HAD ALWAYS RESENTED BOTH ALESSANDRO AND ME.
HE CONVINCED FRANCESCA THAT HER CHILD WAS ALESSANDRO’S.
THE CHILD WAS HIS.
Salvatore stared at the page.
Dante was Roberto’s biological son.
Not Alessandro’s.
Not senior bloodline.
Not heir.
Francesca had spent forty-seven years believing her secret son carried Alessandro’s superior claim.
She had stolen.
Lied.
Possibly covered up deaths.
All for a bloodline Dante never possessed.
Marcello looked stunned.
“Did Roberto know?”
Salvatore continued.
YES.
HE USED FRANCESCA’S BELIEF TO OBTAIN MONEY FOR YEARS.
WHEN SHE FINALLY REFUSED HIM, HIS BOAT EXPLODED.
I DO NOT BELIEVE THE EXPLOSION WAS AN ACCIDENT.
Isabella whispered.
“Francesca?”
Salvatore read farther.
I ONCE BELIEVED SHE MAY HAVE ARRANGED IT.
I NOW BELIEVE DANTE DID.
Carlo looked up.
“Dante was four.”
Salvatore continued.
NOT THEN.
ROBERTO DID NOT DIE IN 1983.
Salvatore stopped again.
Another fake death.
Marcello looked almost offended.
“Does anyone in this family actually die when people say they do?”
Isabella ignored him.
Salvatore read.
ROBERTO SURVIVED.
FRANCESCA HELPED HIM DISAPPEAR BECAUSE SHE FEARED VITTORIO WOULD DISCOVER THEIR AFFAIR.
HE RETURNED YEARS LATER TO EXTORT HER.
DANTE FOUND HIM.
IN 2004, ROBERTO DISAPPEARED FOR REAL.
Salvatore looked at Carlo.
“What happened in 2004?”
Carlo was already searching.
A body had been found near the Hudson River that year.
Unidentified.
Middle-aged male.
Blunt-force trauma.
No match at the time.
Vittorio’s letter continued.
I HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE THAT BODY WAS ROBERTO.
I ALSO HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE DANTE KNEW WHO HE WAS.
The pieces changed.
Francesca may have started the deception.
But Dante had evolved beyond her.
He had discovered enough truth to manipulate his own mother.
Salvatore turned to the final page.
DANTE DOES NOT WANT THE FAMILY BECAUSE HE BELIEVES HE DESERVES IT.
HE WANTS IT BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE DOES NOT.
The final lines were underlined.
A MAN WHO KNOWS HE IS AN IMPOSTOR WILL DESTROY ANYONE WHO CAN PROVE IT.
EMERY IS THAT PROOF.
Salvatore folded the letter.
Carlo’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Everyone watched him.
He ended the call.
“Francesca’s car was found.”
“Where?”
“Near Bridgeport Harbor.”
“Francesca?”
“No.”
Carlo looked toward Salvatore.
“There was blood in the back seat.”
Salvatore’s stomach tightened despite everything.
Francesca was still his mother.
He hated what she had done.
But hate did not erase fifty years of being her son.
Carlo continued.
“And something was written on the windshield.”
“What?”
“One word.”
Salvatore waited.
“Ravenna.”
Dante wanted them to know.
Salvatore looked at Vittorio’s letter again.
Francesca had protected Dante for decades.
Now her secret son had apparently turned on her.
Isabella’s phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
A video message.
She opened it.
Francesca appeared on screen.
Her hands were bound to a chair.
Blood ran from a cut near her eyebrow.
Dante stood behind her.
He smiled into the camera.
“Salvatore.”
Francesca looked terrified.
Dante placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Mother and I finally discussed my inheritance.”
He leaned toward the camera.
“It seems she lied to both of us.”
Francesca whispered.
“Don’t give him anything.”
Dante struck the back of the chair hard enough to make her flinch.
Then he smiled again.
“I want the ring.”
Salvatore’s face became stone.
Dante continued.
“And I want Emery.”
Francesca suddenly screamed.
“No.”
Dante looked down at her.
For the first time, Francesca appeared more frightened for Emery than for herself.
Dante returned his attention to the camera.
“Bring both to me.”
“Or Christmas ends with another DeLuca funeral.”
May you like
The video went black.
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