Chapter 3 - The Secret In The Walls
“Your apartment?” Luca’s voice was sharp.
“Yes,” I breathed. “The basement of my building. It’s been padlocked since I moved in. James told me it was condemned.”
Luca didn’t hesitate.
“Lock the estate down,” he barked at his head of security. “Throw my sister in the study. If she tries to leave, break her legs.”
Valentina shrieked, but two guards dragged her away without a second thought.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Luca’s black armored SUV. The city lights of Chicago blurred past us as he drove at terrifying speeds toward my neighborhood.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, staring out the window.
Luca glanced at me, his jaw clenched tight. “For what?”
“For bringing him into your house. If I hadn’t been so stupid—”
“Emily, stop.”
His voice wasn’t angry. It was surprisingly gentle.
“You were manipulated by a professional. You worked yourself to the bone to support a man you thought was your partner. That makes you loyal, not stupid.”
I looked down at my bare left hand. The pale tan line where my wedding ring used to be felt like a physical burn.
We pulled up to my crumbling brick apartment building. The street was dead quiet.
Luca pulled a heavy black handgun from his shoulder holster.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered.
We bypassed my apartment on the third floor and went straight down the narrow, concrete steps to the basement.
The heavy steel door was secured with three massive padlocks.
Luca didn’t bother picking them. He aimed his weapon and fired three silenced shots. The locks shattered.
He kicked the door open.
The smell hit me first. Damp earth, sweat, and copper.
Luca found a light switch and flicked it on.
A single bulb illuminated the horrific space.
There was a cot in the corner, chained to a thick iron pipe.
But the cot was empty.
Matteo wasn’t there.
Luca let out a guttural sound of rage, kicking a wooden chair against the brick wall. It splintered into pieces.
“He moved him,” Luca said, his chest heaving. “James knew Valentina was cracking. He moved him before coming to the dinner.”
We had an answer. James had hidden the mafia boss’s brother directly beneath his own wife’s feet to ensure I would be the prime suspect if the police ever searched the building.
But it opened two new questions: Where did James take him tonight? And what was his actual endgame?
I stepped further into the damp room, my eyes scanning the concrete floor.
“Wait,” I said.
Tucked beneath the thin mattress of the cot was a piece of fabric.
I pulled it out.
It was a heavy winter coat.
But it didn’t belong to Matteo. And it didn’t belong to James.
It was a woman’s coat. Small, tailored, and very expensive.
I reached into the pocket and pulled out a crinkled photograph.
I stared at the image, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing.
Reversal.
James wasn’t working alone. Valentina wasn’t the only woman he was manipulating.
“Luca,” I whispered, handing him the photograph.
Luca looked at it. His dark eyes widened in absolute shock.
The picture showed James sitting at a café in Paris.
And kissing his cheek, looking completely in love, was a young woman.
“Who is she?” I asked.
Luca stared at the photo, his hands trembling slightly.
“That’s Elena,” he breathed.
“Who is Elena?”
Luca looked at me, the terrifying reality setting in.
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“She’s Matteo’s wife.”
TITLE: The Wife's Betrayal
