Chapter 5 - THE DATED LETTER
"She's alive," Marco breathed.
The words hung in the air of the ruined maid’s quarters, heavy and impossible.
Marco took the letter from my hands, his eyes devouring the words his dead wife had written two years ago.
If you find this, it means I am still running.
Marco read the words aloud, his voice thick with an emotion that threatened to break him in half.
Victor found me in Paris. I barely escaped. He will never stop hunting me. He controls Marco’s security, his communications, his entire world. I cannot go home without risking Marco’s life and Leo’s safety. Victor promised he would kill them both if I ever returned.
Marco stopped reading. He dragged a hand over his face, a raw, agonizing sound escaping his chest.
"He threatened my son," Marco whispered, the realization of Victor's absolute betrayal settling into his bones. "She stayed away to protect us."
I looked at the smashed music box on the floor.
"Marco," I said softly, my mind struggling to piece the puzzle together. "I bought this music box in a thrift store in Chicago. How did a letter from your wife get inside it?"
Marco frowned, looking back down at the letter.
"Read the rest," I urged.
Marco’s eyes tracked down the page.
I am hiding the evidence of Victor’s embezzlement and his illegal weapons trade here. I gave this music box to a woman I met at the shelter in Chicago. Her name was Elena. She promised to keep it safe until I could contact the FBI.
My heart completely stopped.
"Elena," I whispered, the room spinning violently around me.
Marco looked up. "Do you know an Elena?"
Tears spilled hot and fast over my cheeks. "Elena was my older sister."
Marco’s eyes widened in shock.
"She died three years ago," I choked out, the memory of her sudden illness hitting me like a physical blow. "She gave me that music box in the hospital right before she passed away. She told me never to lose it. I thought it was just a keepsake."
"Sofia gave it to your sister," Marco realized. "And you brought it directly into my home."
"I didn't know," I sobbed, wiping my eyes. "I just applied for a job through a domestic agency. Victor hired me."
Marco stood up slowly, a terrifying, lethal clarity washing over his face.
"Victor hired you," Marco repeated. "Because Victor tracked my wife to Chicago. He found out she was at that shelter. He found out she knew your sister."
He looked at the wrecked room.
"Victor didn't just hire you to clean, Clara," Marco said, his voice dropping into absolute ice. "He hired you to keep you close. He’s been waiting to see if you knew where Sofia hid the evidence."
The pieces fell into place with sickening precision.
The reason Victor always assigned me to the hardest jobs. The reason he was always watching me. He thought I was the key to finding Sofia's blackmail file.
And tonight, when he realized the net was closing in, he had someone tear my room apart to find it.
"But who smashed the box?" I asked, standing up. "Victor was upstairs."
Marco flipped the letter over.
There was a drawing on the back of the thick paper.
A hastily sketched map. It showed a mountain range, a winding road, and a specific cabin marked with an 'X'.
"This is my private hunting cabin," Marco said, his blood running cold. "It's three hours north. Nobody knows about it except me. And Victor."
Suddenly, Marco’s radio, clipped to his belt, buzzed frantically.
"Boss! We have a code red!" the head of security shouted through the static. "Victor is gone!"
"What do you mean gone?" Marco roared into the radio. "He was pinned in the dining room!"
"He had a hidden blade in his cuff, sir. He slashed two of the guards and locked us in the vault. By the time we broke out... he was gone."
Marco didn't wait. He sprinted out of my room, tearing down the hallway toward the grand staircase. I ran right behind him, my light-sensitive eye burning in the bright hallway lights, but I forced myself to ignore the pain.
We reached the main floor just as the guards were swarming the foyer.
Eleanor was sitting on a bench, crying hysterically.
But Leo was nowhere to be seen.
Marco grabbed the nearest guard by the tactical vest. "Where is my son?!"
The guard looked terrified. "Boss... Victor grabbed him. He took the boy through the garage. We tried to stop the SUV, but he rammed the gates."
Marco let go of the guard, stumbling backward as if he had been shot.
Victor had Leo. The man who had terrorized his wife, drugged his mother, and manipulated his entire life now had his eight-year-old son.
I looked down at the marble floor near the front doors.
Lying in a crumpled heap was a small, navy blue winter coat.
Leo's coat.
I walked over and picked it up. The thick wool had been slashed violently down the back by a knife. Victor's blade.
But as I held the heavy coat, I felt something hard inside the right pocket.
I reached my hand inside.
I pulled out a small, heavy silver object.
It was a pocket watch.
I stared at it, my breath catching in my throat for the second time that night.
Because I knew this watch. I knew every scratch on the silver casing. I knew the initial 'D' engraved on the front.
"Marco," I said, my voice completely hollow.
He turned around, his eyes wild with panic.
I held up the silver pocket watch.
"This belongs to my father," I whispered. "He lost it ten years ago."
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Marco stared at the watch, the color draining from his face.
"That doesn't belong to your father, Clara," Marco said slowly, a deep, terrifying realization dawning in his eyes. "That belongs to my brother, Dante. The brother I banished from this family ten years ago."
