Chapter 4 - The Blood Ledger
The brass key felt unnaturally heavy in my palm.
My father’s private safe. Hidden behind a false panel in the wine cellar. He had told me on his deathbed that it contained only old love letters and sentimental junk. He made me swear never to open it.
I had honored that promise for three years.
“Rocco, take my mother back to her wing,” I ordered quietly. “Make sure Vivien doesn’t see you.”
“No,” my mother said sharply. Her moment of clarity was holding, a rare and terrifying thing. “I am coming with you. He was my husband. I have a right to see the rot he left behind.”
I didn’t argue. When a Duca matriarch uses that tone, you obey.
We descended into the wine cellar in silence. The air grew cold, smelling of oak and damp earth.
I walked past racks of vintage Barolo to the far wall. I pressed my hand against the stone, finding the hidden groove. The heavy wooden panel clicked and swung open, revealing a steel safe embedded in the concrete.
I inserted the brass key. It turned with a heavy, satisfying thunk.
I pulled the heavy door open.
Inside, there were no love letters.
There was a stack of passports with Marco’s face on them. There were stacks of bearer bonds.
And sitting in the center was a thick, black leather-bound ledger.
I pulled it out and laid it on a wine tasting table. Rocco held a flashlight while I opened the pages.
The ink was my father’s precise, looping handwriting.
It wasn’t a financial ledger. It was a diary. A record of sins.
I scanned the entries, my blood turning to ice.
April 14th: Marco has agreed to take the fall. I will publicly banish him. The police will stop looking at the family business. In exchange, I will fund him indefinitely. The boy finally has a purpose.
My father hadn’t banished Marco for betraying us. My father had used Marco as a scapegoat to save his own skin, and paid him off to stay quiet.
I turned the pages, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Then I found it. An entry dated five years ago.
October 2nd: The Julian boy found out. He threatened to go to Lorenzo. He wants a seat at the table. He is greedy, like his sister. Marco will handle it tonight behind the diner. It will look like an overdose. We cannot afford loose ends.
The flashlight beam shook in Rocco’s hand.
“Your father…” Rocco whispered, horrified. “He ordered the hit on Vivien’s brother.”
I stared at the page, nausea washing over me.
My father had ordered Marco to kill Julian.
And Elena had witnessed it.
“But why is Vivien paying Marco now?” I asked aloud, trying to untangle the web. “If Marco killed her brother on my father’s orders, why is she sending Marco ten thousand dollars a week?”
“Because it’s not a payoff,” my mother’s voice came from the shadows. She sounded exhausted, the clarity beginning to slip away. “It’s a partnership.”
I turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“The girl has no soul, Lorenzo,” my mother whispered. “She doesn’t care that Julian is dead. She only cares about the power he failed to get.”
I looked back at the ledger, turning to the very last page.
There was a folded document tucked inside the back cover. I pulled it out.
It was a contract. Signed by Marco. And signed by Vivien.
Dated three months ago.
Upon my marriage to Lorenzo Duca, I will ensure the transfer of the waterfront territories to Marco Duca. In exchange, Marco will provide the leverage necessary to guarantee the marriage takes place.
The breath left my lungs.
Vivien and Marco were working together. Vivien was buying her way into my empire, and Marco was using her to reclaim the throne my father had denied him.
They were going to bleed my family dry from the inside out.
“The leverage,” Rocco said slowly, realizing it at the same time I did. “The leverage Marco provided Vivien to guarantee the marriage…”
“Elena,” I said, the name tasting like ash.
Vivien had brought Elena into my house not just to hide the witness to her brother’s murder. She brought Elena here to control me.
If I ever tried to break the engagement, Vivien would expose the fact that my father—the great, honorable don of the Duca family—was a coward who murdered a young man to save himself. It would destroy my family’s reputation, our alliances, our entire empire.
Elena was the smoking gun. And Vivien was holding it against my head without me even knowing.
“Boss,” Rocco said, his phone vibrating in his hand. He looked at the screen, his face draining of color.
“What is it?”
“It’s the security team,” Rocco said, his voice tight. “Vivien isn’t in her bedroom.”
“Where is she?”
Rocco looked up at me, pure panic in his eyes.
“She’s in the staff wing. She’s in Elena’s room.”
I didn’t wait. I dropped the ledger and sprinted toward the stairs.
I took the steps two at a time, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
I burst through the door to the staff quarters. The hallway was dead quiet.
I reached Elena’s door. It was wide open.
The bed was empty. The frayed stuffed bear was on the floor.
Elena and Mia were gone.
Sitting perfectly centered on the mattress was Vivien’s green silk scarf.
And sitting on top of the scarf was a gold pocket watch.
I recognized it instantly. It was my father’s watch. The one he had given to Marco the day he banished him.
A piece of paper was tucked under the watch.
I snatched it up.
May you like
It was written in Vivien’s elegant handwriting.
I know you opened the safe, darling. Come to the shipyard alone. Or the little girl won't grow up to draw any more pictures.
