Chapter 8 - Elena's Last Call
The recording lasted forty-seven seconds.
It was enough to destroy everything Luca thought he knew about his wife's death.
Mrs. Price stood beside the stage, her phone connected to the ballroom's sound system.
Rebecca had arrived with two independent security officers and an attorney for the witness.
Dante couldn't stop the playback without attracting even more attention.
Elena's voice filled the room.
“Jennifer, it's Elena.”
A pause.
“I found the original reports.”
Luca closed his eyes.
He hadn't heard that voice in almost two years.
“I know why Charles changed them.”
A quiet sob.
“It's not just money. Dante has been using the children to hide something in the research accounts.”
Luca opened his eyes.
Dante stood completely still.
Elena continued.
“I tried to tell Luca, but someone is monitoring my calls.”
There was a noise in the background.
A door closing.
Elena whispered:
“If I don't make it home tomorrow, tell him to look at the lake house.”
The recording ended.
Nobody applauded.
Nobody moved.
Then every journalist in the ballroom began speaking at once.
“Mr. Moretti!”
“Was your wife's death suspicious?”
“Did your brother know about this?”
“Dr. Whitmore, are these allegations true?”
Dante pushed through the crowd.
“This is outrageous!”
He pointed at Jennifer Price.
“That recording has been manipulated.”
Jennifer shook her head.
“I kept the original phone.”
“You're trying to extort this family!”
Luca stepped between them.
“Enough.”
His brother looked at him.
“Luca, please. You can't believe this woman.”
Luca's voice was quiet.
“I believe Elena.”
Dante's face twisted.
“Then you're making a terrible mistake.”
Before Luca could answer, Rebecca leaned toward him.
“The police are on their way.”
Dante heard her.
His eyes flicked toward the exits.
Luca noticed.
He stepped closer.
“Running?”
Dante smiled.
“Of course not.”
Then he turned and walked quickly toward the private elevator.
Marco appeared beside Luca.
“Sir, should I stop him?”
Luca looked at Rebecca.
She shook her head.
“Don't create a confrontation. We have witnesses and evidence.”
Luca nodded reluctantly.
Dante disappeared behind the elevator doors.
Whitmore tried to follow.
Two uniformed officers stopped him at the rear entrance.
The ballroom erupted again.
Luca barely heard it.
One phrase repeated inside his head.
Look at the lake house.
The Moretti family owned a quiet property in Connecticut.
Elena loved it.
She spent weekends there with Sophia.
She called it the only place where she could breathe.
After her death, Luca had never returned.
Dante had arranged for its maintenance.
Of course he had.
Luca called Hannah.
She answered immediately.
“Is everything okay?”
“I'm alive.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He almost smiled.
“I'm coming back.”
“What happened?”
“Elena left another message.”
Hannah went quiet.
“Luca…”
“She said to look at the lake house.”
There was a sharp intake of breath.
“What?”
“You know something.”
Hannah hesitated.
“Your wife used to keep a small box there.”
“What kind of box?”
“Metal. Blue. With a brass latch.”
Luca frowned.
“How do you know?”
“Elena's nurse told me.”
“What's inside?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you scared?”
Hannah's voice shook.
“Because someone broke into my apartment yesterday.”
Luca stopped walking.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't want to frighten you more.”
“Did they take anything?”
“No.”
“Then what were they looking for?”
Hannah whispered:
“The key I showed you.”
Luca remembered the tiny brass key.
His wife's letter.
The hidden recording.
He looked toward the hotel exit.
“Don't leave St. Agnes.”
“I won't.”
“Keep Sophia close.”
“I will.”
He paused.
“Hannah?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
The silence lasted a moment.
Then she answered softly.
“Bring yourself back safely. Sophia needs you.”
The call ended.
Luca walked into the cold night.
Reporters shouted his name.
He ignored them.
Inside his waiting car, he opened the last message Elena had sent him before her death.
It was still on his phone.
He had never deleted it.
Don't forget to kiss our little girl goodnight.
For two years, he'd believed that was her final message.
Now he wondered how many others had been hidden.
His phone rang.
An unknown number.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A woman's voice spoke.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Claire Bennett.”
He frowned.
“Do I know you?”
“No. But I knew your wife.”
“From where?”
“I was the emergency dispatcher who took her final call.”
Luca's breath caught.
“The night of the accident?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you calling me now?”
“Because I saw the gala on television.”
He waited.
Claire's voice trembled.
“And because the recording they played wasn't the last thing Elena said.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“What did she say?”
There was a pause.
Then Claire whispered:
“She said someone had been following her.”
Luca gripped the phone.
“Who?”
“She gave a name.”
His heart pounded.
“Tell me.”
May you like
Claire took a shaky breath.
“Dante Moretti.”
