“Pack Your Things,” the Mafia Boss Snarled—By Midnight, His Wife Had Vanished Without a Trace
Chapter 8
The attack lasted less than three minutes.
When the shooting stopped, the church was silent again.
Two attackers had fled.
Three were captured.
Matteo’s men secured the exits.
Isabella searched the fallen attackers.
She found a ring.
Her face changed.
“Michael.”
Elena stared.
“What?”
“This belongs to your uncle.”
Matteo picked it up.
He recognized the symbol.
The Moretti family crest.
Michael had been behind the attack.
But why?
They searched the hidden chamber.
Behind the photographs, Isabella discovered another compartment.
Inside was a small journal.
Robert Belladonna’s handwriting covered the pages.
Matteo read aloud.
“Isabella believes the ledger is no longer safe in one place. We divided the evidence.”
Elena leaned closer.
“How many pieces?”
“Three.”
Matteo continued.
“One remains beneath the city.”
“Where?”
He turned the page.
Nothing.
The final page had been torn out.
Isabella suddenly looked at Elena.
“Your wedding.”
“What?”
“Your wedding.”
Elena frowned.
“My father gave me something.”
She remembered.
The morning after her wedding, her uncle Michael had given her an antique music box.
She had stored it at the mansion.
Matteo looked at her.
“Did you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re going back.”
“No,” Isabella said.
Matteo turned.
“Why?”
“Because Michael expects that.”
Elena understood.
“He wants us to return to the mansion.”
“And he knows you’ll bring the music box.”
Matteo looked at the journal.
“We need to find the second piece before he does.”
“Where?”
Isabella pointed toward a sentence.
The river remembers what the house forgot.
Matteo’s eyes narrowed.
“The old dock.”
They left the church before dawn.
But Michael was already waiting.
At the mansion.
He stood in Elena’s bedroom, holding the music box.
He opened it.
A tiny melody played.
Then he smiled.
Because hidden inside the box was a compartment.
And the compartment was empty.
Michael’s smile disappeared.
“Where is it?”
A voice answered behind him.
“Looking for this?”
He turned.
Matteo stood in the doorway.
The ledger fragment was in his hand.
Michael raised his gun.
“You should have stayed away.”
Matteo smiled coldly.
“You should have learned to count.”
