Chapter 5 - Elena’s BrotherMateo Vasquez had been dead for four years.
At least Elena believed he had.
The Coast Guard had recovered pieces of his fishing boat twenty miles off Cape May.
No body.
Elena had buried an empty coffin.
Now his voice had come through the Moretti estate security system.
Dante watched her struggle to remain standing.
“Tell me everything.”
Elena wiped her face.
“My brother was never part of this world.”
“Everyone says that about someone.”
“He was a mechanic.”
“Who did he work for?”
“A private garage in Queens.”
“Name.”
“Mercer Automotive.”
Nico looked at Dante.
They both recognized it.
Mercer Automotive had once serviced vehicles for Salvatore Moretti.
Elena saw their expressions.
“What?”
Dante answered carefully.
“Your brother worked for my father.”
“No.”
“Maybe without knowing.”
Elena shook her head.
“Mateo hated criminals.”
“Sometimes criminals don’t introduce themselves properly.”
Within an hour, Nico had Mateo’s employment history.
Mechanic.
Tow-truck driver.
Occasional courier.
Then, seven years earlier, his finances changed.
Cash deposits.
Thirty thousand.
Forty thousand.
Seventy-five thousand.
Elena stared at the records.
“I never knew.”
“Did he ever mention Vittorio?”
“No.”
“Isabella?”
“No.”
“Gabriel?”
“No.”
She pressed both hands against the table.
“I don’t care about any of this. I want Sophia.”
Dante understood.
“Then we get Sophia.”
He prepared for the cemetery exchange.
But first they needed the second bird.
That meant opening Caterina’s grave.
Dante stood alone in the family mausoleum that evening.
His mother’s marble crypt occupied the center wall.
He had not entered in years.
Elena came behind him.
“You don’t have to be here.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You can wait outside.”
Dante looked at Caterina’s name.
“She hated darkness.”
Elena said nothing.
“I was nine when she told me that.”
His voice sounded strange even to him.
“She said death frightened her because she imagined being trapped somewhere without windows.”
Elena looked toward the stained-glass ceiling.
“And you buried her here.”
“She chose it.”
Dante placed his hand against the marble.
“I never understood why.”
The workers opened the crypt.
Then the coffin.
Dante turned away when the lid rose.
Elena remained near him.
Nobody spoke.
Minutes later, Nico approached.
“Boss.”
Dante turned.
Nico held a small evidence bag.
Inside was the gold bird.
But something was wrong.
Its chest had been opened.
The hidden compartment was empty.
Dante stared.
“Someone got here first.”
Nico nodded.
“Recently.”
“How recently?”
The cemetery caretaker answered from behind them.
“Three days ago.”
Dante turned.
“Who?”
The caretaker swallowed.
“A woman.”
“Describe her.”
“Dark hair. Maybe fifty. She said she was family.”
Elena became very still.
Dante noticed.
“What?”
Elena shook her head.
“What?”
“My mother.”
Dante frowned.
“You said your mother died.”
“She did.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
The caretaker interrupted.
“The woman left something.”
He produced an envelope.
On the front:
ELENA VASQUEZ.
Elena stared at it.
“That’s her handwriting.”
Her fingers shook as she opened it.
Inside was a single sheet.
My Elena,
If you are reading this, then the Morettis finally found what Mateo and I tried to hide.
Trust the child.
Not the bride.
Not the old man.
And not Dante Moretti until he knows what his father did.
The bird is safe.
So is the truth.
Find Mateo where the bells stopped ringing.
Forgive me.
Mama.
Elena read the final line three times.
Dante asked:
“Where did the bells stop ringing?”
Elena looked up.
Her face changed.
“I know.”
Twenty-five minutes later, they were driving toward an abandoned Catholic church in Red Hook.
St. Michael’s had burned twelve years earlier.
Its bell tower had collapsed.
The church never reopened.
Dante entered first.
Dust covered the pews.
Rain leaked through the ruined roof.
“Elena.”
She followed.
A candle burned near the altar.
Fresh.
Then a man stepped from behind the confessional.
Elena stopped breathing.
He was thinner than the brother she remembered.
Older.
A scar crossed his cheek.
But it was Mateo.
Elena whispered:
“You’re alive.”
Mateo’s eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
She crossed the church and slapped him.
Then she pulled him into her arms.
“Where is Sophia?”
Mateo’s expression collapsed.
“I didn’t take her.”
Dante raised his gun.
“We heard your voice.”
“I came to warn her.”
“Who took my daughter?” Elena demanded.
Mateo looked at Dante.
“Someone who has been living in your house for six years.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Mateo answered.
“Your security chief.”
Behind Dante, a pistol clicked.
May you like
Nico Bellandi’s voice came quietly through the darkness.
“He really should have stayed dead.”
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