Chapter 2 - Someone Inside the HouseDante did not tell Elina what was on the phone.
Not immediately.
He simply stood in the hallway staring at the photograph while years of instinct replaced exhaustion.
The picture had been taken from outside the east wing.
That narrowed the possibilities.
The private medical suite was on the second floor, overlooking the rear garden. Anyone photographing through those windows would have needed access to the restricted courtyard or one of the balconies connecting the east wing.
Neither was accessible to visitors.
Which meant the photographer was either extraordinarily resourceful...
Or already inside.
Dante called his security chief.
“Marco.”
“Yes?”
“Lock the estate.”
A pause.
“Problem?”
“Nobody leaves.”
Marco did not ask another question.
Dante looked at Elina.
“Take Mia to your apartment.”
Elina stiffened.
Staff housing sat in a separate building behind the main estate.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Twenty minutes earlier, he had begged her daughter to stay.
Now he was ordering them away.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You're lying.”
Dante looked at her.
Most employees would have immediately apologized.
Elina didn't.
She folded her arms.
“You looked at your phone and changed completely.”
“Elina.”
“If this concerns my daughter, I deserve to know.”
Dante said nothing.
That silence answered her.
Elina’s face drained of color.
“What happened?”
He showed her the photograph.
For several seconds, she could not understand what she was seeing.
Then she recognized Mia.
Her hand tightened around her daughter’s shoulder.
“Who took this?”
“I don't know.”
“What does the message mean?”
“I don't know.”
“You're telling me someone photographed my child through a window and you don't know?”
“I said I don't know yet.”
Elina pulled Mia close.
“We're leaving.”
“No.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You don't get to tell me that.”
“The estate is locked down.”
“I don't care.”
“You should. Whoever sent this could be waiting outside.”
That stopped her.
Dante lowered his voice.
“You and Mia are safer here until I know what we're dealing with.”
Mia looked between them.
“Mommy?”
Elina forced herself to smile.
“We're okay.”
Mia pointed toward Matteo’s room.
“Is Uncle okay?”
Neither adult answered.
Inside the bedroom, Dr. Shah completed his examination.
Matteo had shown another slight response to verbal commands but had not opened his eyes.
It was progress.
Small.
Fragile.
But real.
Dante should have felt relief.
Instead, the message poisoned every hopeful thought.
Some things Matteo knows should stay buried.
He knew what that implied.
The ambush three weeks earlier might not have been what they thought.
Dante had spent years building a network of legitimate businesses from the remnants of an organization his father had once controlled.
Construction.
Logistics.
Real estate.
Private security.
People still whispered the Moretti name.
Some whispers were deserved.
Others belonged to a history Dante had spent years trying to escape.
Matteo had helped him.
That was the irony.
The brother everyone assumed was more dangerous had been the one pushing hardest toward legitimacy.
Then someone tried to kill them.
Police had found little.
The vehicle used in the ambush was stolen.
Security cameras nearby had mysteriously failed.
Witnesses remembered almost nothing.
Dante had blamed rival interests.
Now he wasn't sure.
At 9:03 p.m., Marco entered the medical wing.
“We checked the grounds.”
“And?”
“No intruder.”
“Then explain the photograph.”
Marco looked at it.
His expression hardened.
“Could have been taken from the balcony.”
“Access?”
“House staff. Security. Family.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“Family?”
“Technically.”
There were fourteen people staying at the estate that week.
Four medical staff.
Six household employees.
Three security personnel.
And Dante’s cousin Luca Moretti.
Luca had arrived after the shooting, claiming he wanted to support the family.
Dante had barely noticed him.
Now he noticed everything.
“Where's Luca?”
“Dining room.”
“Keep him there.”
Marco nodded.
Dante returned to Matteo.
Nina was adjusting the blanket.
“Anything?”
“He responded once.”
“To you?”
“To Mia.”
Dante stared.
Nina sighed.
“Don't turn the child into a neurological test.”
“I'm not.”
“You're thinking about it.”
He looked toward the doorway.
Mia was sitting on the floor drawing.
“What did she do?”
“Talked about pancakes.”
Dante raised an eyebrow.
Nina almost smiled.
“She told him he owed her three pancakes.”
“And?”
“His finger moved.”
Dante stepped closer to the bed.
“Matteo.”
Nothing.
He looked at Mia.
“Mia?”
Elina immediately intervened.
“No.”
Dante turned.
“She doesn't have to touch him.”
“No.”
“Elina—”
“My daughter isn't medicine.”
The words struck harder than she intended.
Dante stared at her.
Then he nodded.
“You're right.”
Elina had expected resistance.
Instead, he walked away.
That made her feel worse.
Mia tugged her hand.
“Mommy, Uncle wants water.”
Elina froze.
“What?”
Nina looked over.
“Mia?”
“He wants water.”
Matteo could not safely drink.
Nina approached the bed.
“Mia, why do you think that?”
“His mouth.”
Nina examined him.
His lips were dry.
Nothing remarkable.
Then Matteo swallowed.
Once.
Nina stared.
She moistened his lips carefully with a sponge.
Matteo swallowed again.
“Interesting,” she whispered.
Dante turned back.
Before anyone could speak, Matteo’s hand moved.
Not a twitch.
Not a reflex.
His index finger slowly dragged across the sheet.
Mia smiled.
“See?”
Dante moved toward him.
“Matteo.”
The finger moved again.
Nina leaned closer.
“Matteo, if you can hear me, move your finger once.”
Nothing.
Then—
One movement.
Dante closed his eyes.
For three weeks he had imagined this moment.
He had expected joy.
Instead he felt terror.
Because someone wanted his brother silent.
And now Matteo was beginning to communicate.
Over the next hour, Nina developed a primitive system.
One finger movement for yes.
Two for no.
Matteo was inconsistent.
Sometimes he did not respond.
Sometimes the movement was unclear.
But eventually there was enough consistency that even Dr. Shah, speaking over video, acknowledged it might represent purposeful communication.
Dante sat beside him.
“Do you know who I am?”
One movement.
Dante swallowed.
“Do you remember what happened?”
Long pause.
One movement.
Nina warned him.
“Don't push.”
He ignored her.
“Did you see who attacked us?”
Nothing.
“Matteo?”
His brother’s finger trembled.
One movement.
Dante leaned forward.
“Do I know them?”
A long pause.
One movement.
The room became silent.
Dante’s voice dropped.
“Are they in this house?”
Elina felt Mia grip her skirt.
Matteo did not move.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Then—
One movement.
Dante stood.
Marco reached automatically toward his jacket.
Dante shook his head.
Nobody was doing anything reckless with Mia present.
“Can you tell me who?”
Matteo’s breathing changed.
The monitor accelerated slightly.
Nina stepped in.
“Enough.”
“One question.”
“No.”
“Nina—”
“His heart rate is climbing.”
Dante stared at his brother.
Matteo’s finger suddenly moved.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Not answering.
Trying to communicate something.
Mia slipped from Elina’s grip and walked closer.
“Mia!”
The child stopped beside the bed.
She looked at Matteo.
Then toward the doorway.
Her expression changed.
“What?” Dante asked.
Mia pointed.
“The man.”
Everyone turned.
The hallway was empty.
Dante crossed the room instantly.
Nobody.
He looked back.
“What man?”
Mia frowned.
“The man Uncle doesn't like.”
Elina went pale.
“What man, sweetheart?”
“The one who was standing there.”
“When?”
“Before.”
Dante crouched.
“What did he look like?”
Mia thought carefully.
“Brown hair.”
That described half the estate.
“What was he wearing?”
“Blue.”
Dante looked at Marco.
Marco’s face changed.
Only one group inside the estate wore navy-blue jackets.
Security.
Dante straightened.
“Who was assigned to this wing tonight?”
Marco checked his tablet.
Then stopped.
“Evan.”
“Where is he?”
Marco touched his radio.
No response.
Again.
Nothing.
They searched the security office.
Empty.
Evan’s room.
Empty.
His vehicle remained in the garage.
Then Marco discovered something else.
A camera covering the east-wing balcony had been disabled at 7:02 p.m.
Twelve minutes before Mia saw Matteo’s eye move.
Someone had known exactly where to stand.
At 10:41 p.m., another message reached Dante.
This time there was no photograph.
Only a sentence.
Ask your brother about the red ledger.
Dante stared at it.
He had never heard of any red ledger.
But behind him, the heart monitor suddenly accelerated.
Dante turned.
Matteo’s eyes were still closed.
His fingers, however, were moving frantically against the sheet.
One.
One.
One.
May you like
Yes.
And Dante realized the anonymous sender had just mentioned something his unconscious brother recognized.
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