Chapter 3 - THE BOOK DEREK WANTED
The book appeared ordinary.
Its first pages contained Italian recipes written in my mother’s handwriting.
Tomato sauce.
Almond cookies.
A soup my father made when I was sick.
Near the middle, the paper became thicker.
Vincent pressed along the spine.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a narrow encrypted drive and a folded letter.
My name appeared across the envelope.
I could barely hold it with my uninjured hand.
My dearest Lena,
If you are reading this, the life I tried to keep away from you has returned.
Do not trust anyone simply because they call themselves family.
Do not fear everyone simply because others call them criminals.
Judge people by what they do when you have nothing to offer them.
The red book contains proof that powerful men stole from the Moretti organization and used that money to build respectable empires.
One of them is Gerald Cole.
Derek’s father.
My vision blurred.
Derek had not met me by chance.
We met when he came into the diner during a snowstorm.
He returned the following week.
Then every week afterward.
He said he loved how ordinary I was.
He said I made him feel peaceful.
Perhaps he had already known exactly who I was.
I continued reading.
Gerald Cole believes I kept the ledger.
He may search for it through you.
If anyone bearing the Cole name becomes interested in your life, run.
I lowered the letter.
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Did Derek ever ask about your father?”
“All the time.”
“He said he wanted to understand where I came from.”
“Did he ask about boxes, books, or old storage units?”
I remembered our second year of marriage.
Derek insisted we empty my mother’s storage locker after she died.
He searched every carton himself.
When he found nothing valuable, he became furious.
Later, he apologized and claimed grief made him impatient.
“He was looking for this.”
Ruiz took custody of the drive under an evidence agreement.
Vincent objected until I gave permission.
The ledger belonged to my father.
The decision belonged to me.
A cybercrime team began attempting to open the files.
The drive required a password.
Vincent believed Anthony would have used something personal.
I tried birthdays.
My parents’ wedding date.
The diner address.
Nothing worked.
Then I remembered a sentence my father repeated whenever something frightened me.
Courage is not the absence of fear.
It is choosing while fear is present.
I entered the first letters of each word.
The drive opened.
Thousands of records appeared.
Bank transfers.
Property purchases.
Payments to police officers.
Shell corporations.
Photographs.
Recorded conversations.
The most recent file was only six months old.
Someone had continued updating the ledger after my father’s death.
The user name was RosaB.
Vincent became still.
“Rosa Bellini.”
“Who is she?”
“My aunt?”
“Your father’s younger sister.”
I had been told my father had no siblings.
Vincent said Rosa disappeared after Anthony left the organization.
Everyone assumed she had been killed.
The ledger proved she was alive.
It also contained Derek’s financial records.
He had transferred money to a private investigator.
The payment description read:
WIFE COMPLIANCE MONITORING.
Ruiz opened another file.
It contained recordings from inside my apartment.
Derek had been monitoring every phone call, every diner shift, and every visit I made.
The final document was a life insurance policy.
It covered me for ten million dollars.
Gerald Cole was listed as a secondary beneficiary through a hidden trust.
Derek had not broken my arm during an impulsive argument.
He had been escalating toward something permanent.
Then a hospital administrator entered.
“Mrs. Cole, your husband has been released on emergency bail.”
I stopped breathing.
“Who authorized it?”
Ruiz checked her phone.
Her expression turned cold.
“Judge Malcolm Vane.”
May you like
Vincent looked toward the ledger.
Judge Vane’s name appeared on the first page.
