Chapter 1 – The Missing Thirty Seconds

The banquet room of the Moretti mansion had never been so quiet. The silence was absolute, a heavy, suffocating blanket that snuffed out the polite murmurs and the clinking of crystal.

Luca Moretti stared at Olivia, his dark eyes wide with a sudden, sharp fear he couldn’t hide. “What did he tell you, Liv?”

Olivia trembled, her fingers gripping the fabric of her simple blue dress until her knuckles turned white. She didn’t look at Luca. She looked at Vanessa.

Vanessa’s perfectly contoured face was a mask of sheer panic. “Luca, the girl is hysterical. She’s grieving. You can’t possibly listen to this nonsense!”

“Shut up,” Luca said. He didn’t yell. The quiet, lethal calm in his voice was far more terrifying than a shout. He turned back to the seventeen-year-old girl. “Olivia. What did your father say on that tape?”

Olivia swallowed hard, tears slipping down her pale cheeks. “He said… he said he didn’t want to die, Uncle Luca.”

“I know he didn’t,” Luca whispered, his voice cracking. “The cancer was aggressive. We all knew…”

“He didn’t have cancer,” Olivia said.

The words hit the room like a physical blow. Several guests gasped. I stood frozen by the dessert cart, my heart hammering against my ribs. Thomas Reed’s battle with pancreatic cancer had been public knowledge. Luca had paid for the best oncologists in the country.

Luca took a slow step backward. “What are you talking about?”

“On the tape,” Olivia sobbed, finally looking up at him. “He stopped playing. He looked right at the camera and said, ‘Livvie, if I don’t make it to next year, you have to tell Luca the truth. I’m not sick. The doctor is lying. They’re giving me something that’s killing me, and I can’t stop them.'”

The air left the room.

I looked at Vanessa. She was backing away from the table, her hands trembling violently.

“That’s a lie!” Vanessa shrieked, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. “She’s lying! She’s making it up for attention!”

Luca didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes locked on Olivia. “Who, Liv? Who did he say was doing it?”

Olivia’s chin trembled. “He said the doctor was being paid by someone in your family, Uncle Luca. Someone who wanted him gone before the audit.”

Luca’s jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might shatter. Thomas Reed hadn’t just been his best friend; he had been the chief financial officer for the Moretti family’s legitimate businesses. Two years ago, right before a massive internal audit, Thomas had suddenly fallen ill and died within months.

Luca turned slowly. He didn’t look at Vanessa. He looked past her, down the long length of the table, to where his younger brother, Marcus, was sitting.

Marcus Moretti was thirty-two, sharply dressed, and currently gripping his wine glass so hard the stem looked ready to snap.

“Marcus,” Luca said, his voice dropping an octave. “You hired Dr. Evans when Thomas got sick.”

Marcus stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor. “Luca, you aren’t actually listening to a grieving teenager’s delusion, are you? Thomas was sick. We all saw the scans.”

“Where is the original recording, Olivia?” Luca asked, ignoring his brother.

“I gave it to Vanessa,” Olivia cried. “She said she was going to have it professionally restored for the memorial. She never gave it back. She told me the tape was corrupted.”

Luca finally turned his full, terrifying attention to his fiancée.

“Where is the tape, Vanessa?”

Vanessa shook her head frantically. “I threw it away, Luca! It was damaged! I swear to God!”

Before Luca could react, a loud crash echoed from the foyer. The heavy oak doors of the banquet room swung open, and three men in dark suits stepped inside. They weren’t guests. They were Luca’s personal security.

The head of security, a massive man named Leo, walked directly to Luca. He held a small, clear plastic evidence bag. Inside it was a black USB drive.

“Boss,” Leo said, his voice tight. “We were doing a routine sweep of Miss Camilla’s belongings in the guest wing, per your instructions after the scholarship issue.”

Luca looked at the drive. “And?”

“We found this hidden inside the lining of her violin case,” Leo said. “We plugged it in to check the contents. It’s the uncut video file of Thomas Reed’s last birthday.”

Vanessa let out a strangled cry and lunged for the bag. “Give me that!”

Leo effortlessly caught her by the wrist, pushing her back.

Luca took the bag. He looked at Vanessa, then at his brother Marcus, who was suddenly backing toward the side exit of the dining room.

“Leo,” Luca said coldly. “Lock the doors. Nobody leaves.”

The security guards immediately moved, pulling the heavy doors shut and standing in front of them. The fifty guests began to murmur in panic.

I stood paralyzed near the dessert cart. This wasn’t a dinner party anymore. This was an execution waiting to happen.

Luca walked over to the massive television screen mounted above the fireplace, usually used for foundation presentations. He plugged the USB drive into the port.

“Let’s see what my best friend had to say,” Luca murmured.

He hit play.

The screen flickered to life. A shaky, home-video recording showed Thomas Reed, looking gaunt and pale, playing the violin in his small living room. Olivia, younger and smiling, was visible in the reflection of a mirror behind him.

The music was beautiful, haunting. The same piece Pietro Bellini had chosen for the scholarship.

But then, just as Pietro had said, the music stopped.

On the screen, Thomas lowered the violin. He looked exhausted. He looked directly into the camera lens.

“Livvie, turn the music off for a second,” the recorded Thomas said. “Leave it recording. I need to say something.”

The room held its breath.

“If you’re watching this, Luca, I didn’t make it,” Thomas said, his voice ragged. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you to your face. I was afraid. Not for me, but for Liv. Dr. Evans isn’t treating me. He’s poisoning me. Small doses of heavy metals in the IV drips.”

On screen, Thomas coughed violently into a handkerchief. When he pulled it away, it was stained with blood.

“I found the discrepancy in the foundation accounts, Luca,” Thomas whispered to the camera. “Three million dollars, siphoned off over five years. It wasn’t the rival families. It was an inside job.”

Marcus Moretti took another step backward, his face drained of all color.

But on the screen, Thomas shook his head.

“It wasn’t Marcus, Luca,” Thomas said, his voice breaking. “Marcus tried to warn me. He tried to stop it.”

Luca froze.

If it wasn’t Marcus, who was it?

Thomas looked into the camera, tears tracking down his hollow cheeks.

“It was your father, Luca. And the woman who helped him hide it… was Vanessa.”