Chapter 1 – THE MAN IN THE SHADOWS SPEAKS

“…don’t believe the man inside when he tells you who he is.”

Vanessa’s voice trembled in the freezing rain.

Luca didn’t look at her.

He raised his hand.

Marco lifted a heavy iron crowbar from the groundskeeper’s cart.

One strike.

The new brass padlock shattered.

Marco kicked the wooden door inward.

The smell hit us first.

Damp earth. Mildew. And something sharp, like old copper.

Luca stepped into the darkness, pulling a small flashlight from his coat.

The beam cut through the black.

It swept past rusted garden tools.

Empty clay pots.

And stopped on a figure sitting in the far corner.

It was an older man.

His clothes were covered in the same red clay that stained Atlas’s paws.

His wrists were bound with industrial zip-ties.

His eyes squinted against the harsh light.

He wasn’t Michael Moretti.

The man my boss had buried eleven years ago was truly dead.

But I recognized the face in the corner.

I had seen it in the staff hallway, in a framed photograph of the estate’s original crew.

“Elias,” Luca whispered.

Elias Thorne.

Michael Moretti’s most trusted driver.

The man who supposedly stole half a million dollars and fled to Europe the night Michael died.

Elias coughed, a wet, rattling sound.

He didn’t look at Luca.

He looked at Atlas.

The old dog limped forward and rested his chin on Elias’s muddy knee.

“He remembered,” Elias rasped.

His voice was completely raw.

Luca stepped closer.

His calm exterior was cracking.

“You’ve been dead for eleven years, Elias.”

“Not dead,” the old man whispered. “Just waiting.”

Vanessa pushed past Marco, stepping into the shed.

Her red satin dress dragged through the mud.

“Luca, get away from him. He’s out of his mind. He’s the one who betrayed your father.”

Elias slowly raised his head.

He looked at Vanessa.

There was no anger in his eyes. Only a deep, heavy exhaustion.

“I didn’t put myself in this shed, Miss Bellini.”

Vanessa’s face tightened.

“He’s lying. He sneaked back onto the property to extort us.”

“I’ve been locked in here for three days,” Elias said quietly.

He shifted his bound hands.

Between his bruised fingers, he held a heavy, tarnished silver rosary.

It was identical to the one hanging from the rearview mirror of Luca’s private car.

Luca saw it.

He turned slowly to Vanessa.

“You said my father’s watch had nothing to do with us.”

Vanessa backed up a step.

“Luca—”

“You said Elias was a traitor.”

Luca pointed the flashlight at the zip-ties on Elias’s wrists.

“If he’s a traitor who came to rob us, why is he tied up in a shed only you and the grounds crew have keys to?”

Vanessa’s chest heaved.

“Because he killed him, Luca! He killed your father!”

The shed went dead silent.

Only the sound of the rain outside filled the space.

I stood near the door, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Atlas whined, licking Elias’s knuckles.

Elias closed his eyes.

“I didn’t kill Michael,” he said softly.

He opened his hand.

He held out the silver rosary toward me. Not toward Luca. Toward me.

“Emma,” Elias croaked.

I froze.

I had never met this man.

How did he know my name?

I stepped forward hesitantly.

Vanessa lunged to intercept, but Marco easily blocked her path.

I reached out and took the rosary from Elias’s trembling hand.

“Press the cross,” Elias whispered.

I looked down.

The silver cross was unusually thick.

I pressed my thumb against the center.

With a tiny click, the back of the cross popped open.

It was a locket.

Inside wasn’t a religious picture.

It was a small, folded piece of paper.

Luca stepped beside me.

“Open it,” he commanded softly.

I unfolded the delicate paper.

It was a tiny, faded photograph.

A picture of Vanessa, taken at least a decade ago.

She wasn’t wearing expensive satin or diamonds.

She was wearing a hospital gown.

And she was holding a newborn baby.

I looked up at Vanessa.

The color had completely drained from her face.

Luca stared at the photo.

His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

“Whose child is that?”

Elias leaned his head back against the stone wall.

“That’s the secret she killed your father to keep.”

TITLE: The Blood We Do Not Speak Of

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