Chapter 12 - MARCO’S LAST VOICE
Viktor survived.
Barely.
Three bullets.
Emergency surgery.
Federal custody.
Daniel Mercer escaped.
Again.
But the ledger survived too.
For two days, specialists authenticated it.
Forensic accountants.
Federal investigators.
Matteo’s own people.
Every path pointed to the same man.
Daniel Mercer.
Attorney.
Trust administrator.
Foundation counsel.
Beloved civic donor.
A man whose photograph appeared beside mayors and hospital executives.
Clean.
Respectable.
Invisible.
The saint had never been Viktor.
The saint had been the idea of respectability itself.
Mercer had hidden behind it.
The ledger documented years of theft.
But money was no longer the most important thing.
Sofia’s trust gave Mercer temporary emergency authority under one obscure circumstance.
If both Matteo and Elena were declared compromised.
Elena stared at the document.
“Compromised how?”
“Dead.”
The federal investigator answered.
Agent Mara Keene.
Forty-one.
Sharp eyes.
No patience.
“Or legally incapacitated.”
Matteo looked at her.
“And if that happens?”
“Mercer can petition the bank for interim control.”
Elena felt sick.
“So he needs us gone.”
“Yes.”
“And Sofia alive.”
“Yes.”
“Until he controls the assets.”
“Yes.”
Matteo’s voice became ice.
“He will never get near her.”
Keene looked at him.
“He already has.”
The room fell silent.
She placed photographs on the table.
Mercer outside Sofia’s pediatric clinic.
Mercer at Nadia’s funeral.
Mercer near Elena’s apartment.
Always distant.
Always watching.
“He’s been planning this for months.”
Elena said.
“Years.”
Keene corrected.
She pushed another file toward Elena.
“We found this in the ledger package.”
A video file.
Marco.
Elena stopped breathing.
Matteo moved toward her.
She lifted one hand.
“Don’t.”
Not because she wanted him away.
Because she needed to stand alone for this.
The video began.
Marco sat in the same warehouse from Lara’s photograph.
His face was bruised.
His lip split.
But he looked directly into the camera.
“Elena.”
She broke instantly.
His voice.
His face.
Alive.
“I’m sorry.”
She pressed a fist to her mouth.
“If you’re watching this, then I probably didn’t make it home.”
Matteo looked away to give her privacy that the room could not provide.
Marco continued.
“The boys…”
His voice failed.
Elena’s knees shook.
“I didn’t know they were going to hit the car.”
“I swear to you.”
She whispered, “I know.”
“I thought driving them would help them sleep.”
Tears streamed down her face.
“I’m so sorry.”
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, something had changed.
Urgency.
“Nadia was right.”
“Mercer is using the trusts.”
“He doesn’t care about Matteo’s criminal business.”
“He cares about the legal empire around it.”
“He thinks Sofia is the key.”
Elena stared.
“Do not trust anyone just because they look respectable.”
A broken smile.
“You always said my problem was believing a good suit meant a good accountant.”
Elena laughed through tears.
That was exactly something she would have said.
Marco leaned closer to the camera.
“Matteo is dangerous.”
Matteo looked toward the screen.
Marco continued.
“Do not romanticize him.”
Elena almost choked on a laugh.
Matteo raised one eyebrow despite the moment.
“But Nadia believed he loved his daughter more than he loved power.”
“Make him prove her right.”
Matteo’s face changed.
Marco looked exhausted.
“Elena.”
“If there is one thing I need you to know, it’s this.”
“You were the best part of my life.”
“And those boys…”
His voice broke.
“They were not a mistake.”
“Not one second.”
Elena sobbed.
“I love you.”
Marco took a shaky breath.
“And if you ever love again, don’t apologize to me.”
The video ended.
Elena stared at the black screen.
No one spoke.
Not even Agent Keene.
She stood.
Walked outside.
Rain had started.
Elena stepped beneath it.
She did not care.
She cried until her throat hurt.
Until grief stopped feeling like drowning and became something else.
An ocean she could finally admit would always exist.
Footsteps approached.
Matteo stopped several feet away.
“Did I not tell you to stay inside?”
Her voice was hoarse.
“I have never listened to you.”
“That is becoming clear.”
He stood beneath the rain.
No umbrella.
No coat.
Just a white shirt slowly turning translucent at the shoulders.
Elena looked at him.
“Marco told me not to romanticize you.”
“I like him more every day.”
She almost smiled.
“He said you’re dangerous.”
“He was correct.”
“He said Nadia believed you loved Sofia more than power.”
Matteo’s expression shifted.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the house.
“Then she died without knowing if she was right.”
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You’re still alive.”
“She is not.”
“Sofia is.”
That hit him.
Elena stepped closer.
“You can still prove her right.”
“How?”
“Stop becoming the man your enemies expect.”
His jaw tightened.
“You want me to forgive Mercer?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I want you to survive him.”
Silence.
Elena looked at Matteo.
“I want Sofia to have a father when this is over.”
Something in his face cracked.
Not completely.
Enough.
He reached up.
Then stopped before touching her cheek.
Permission.
Elena understood.
She leaned forward first.
Not for a kiss.
Not yet.
She rested her forehead against his chest.
Matteo’s arms came around her slowly.
Rain fell.
No promises.
No declarations.
Just two grieving people holding each other while the lives they once had disappeared behind them.
Then Agent Keene opened the door.
“I hate to interrupt whatever emotionally complicated thing this is.”
Elena stepped back.
Matteo looked irritated.
Keene held up a phone.
“We found Mercer.”
“Where?”
“He booked a charter flight under an alias.”
“To?”
Keene looked at Elena.
“Italy.”
Elena frowned.
“Why Italy?”
Matteo’s face changed.
“Because Elena’s going there.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
He looked almost guilty.
“Your ticket.”
“The private jet.”
The trip Elena had been taking when she first met him.
Rome.
A delayed grief trip her sister had forced her to book.
She had almost forgotten.
Keene nodded.
“Mercer knew your itinerary.”
Elena felt cold.
“He expected me to arrive in Rome.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Keene held up another document.
“Because someone reserved a room in your name.”
Elena stared.
“At what hotel?”
“The Grand Aurelia.”
Matteo went rigid.
Elena noticed.
“You know it.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
May you like
His voice went quiet.
“Nadia owned it.”
