Chapter 5: The Man Who Was Supposed To Be Dead
For a moment, I thought I had misheard him.
The rain outside continued falling.
The message remained glowing on my phone screen.
The photograph showed the two of us inside the nursery boutique.
And in the reflection behind us stood a figure.
A man.
Watching.
Waiting.
But the name Luca whispered didn't belong to a living person.
"Marco Moretti?""
I said it slowly, like saying it louder would make it more real.
Luca didn't answer.
His eyes stayed locked on the screen.
The color had drained from his face.
Not the controlled expression of a businessman facing a crisis.
Not the calm mask he wore when everyone else panicked.
This was fear.
Real fear.
"Who is he?"" I asked.
Luca finally looked at me.
"My brother.""
The hallway seemed to tilt.
I stared at him.
"You have a brother?""
His silence lasted too long.
"Had.""
The correction made my stomach tighten.
"Had?""
He looked away.
"Marco died three years ago.""
The words settled between us.
A dead man.
A photograph.
A warning.
None of it made sense.
"Then why did you say his name?""
Luca stepped inside when I opened the door wider without realizing it.
I hated that I did that.
I hated that some part of me still responded to his fear.
But whatever was happening wasn't just about our marriage anymore.
It was about something bigger.
Something that had reached into our home.
Into our lives.
Into our child.
Luca entered quietly.
He removed his coat and placed it on the chair near the door.
The apartment suddenly felt too small with him inside.
Seven months ago, I would have watched him do something ordinary like that and felt at home.
Now I watched him like I was trying to figure out whether I knew him at all.
"Tell me everything," I said.
He nodded.
"I should have told you before.""
"Yes.""
"I know.""
I gave him a look.
He stopped himself.
"You're right.""
Better.
He sat down across from me.
For the first time, Luca Moretti looked like a man preparing to confess something he had spent years hiding.
"Marco was my older brother.""
"Older?""
"By four years.""
"And he died?""
Luca looked at his hands.
"Everyone thinks so.""
The words made my skin crawl.
"Everyone?""
"My family. The police. The company.""
I stared at him.
"But you don't.""
"No.""
The answer was immediate.
"Why?""
His eyes lifted.
"Because I saw what happened.""
A cold feeling moved through me.
"What happened?""
Luca was silent.
Then he said:
"Marco wasn't supposed to die that night.""
I waited.
He continued.
"Three years ago, he discovered someone inside Moretti Holdings was stealing money. Millions.""
"Your uncle?""
"Maybe.""
"Maybe?""
"I never found proof.""
"And Marco did?""
"He found enough to scare someone.""
The room was quiet.
I looked at the photo again.
"The person behind this knows Marco.""
Luca nodded.
"Yes.""
"Which means they knew he wasn't dead?""
His expression hardened.
"Yes.""
A terrible thought entered my mind.
"Did Marco fake his death?""
Luca looked at me.
And I knew the answer before he spoke.
"I think so.""
The silence afterward felt enormous.
I stood up and walked toward the window.
The city stretched below me.
Millions of people living normal lives.
People arguing over dinner.
People buying groceries.
People going home to someone they loved.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it, a dead man was sending me threats.
"I don't understand.""
Luca remained seated.
"What don't you understand?""
"Why me?""
His face softened.
"Isabella...""
"No.""
I turned around.
"Don't give me another vague answer. Don't tell me you were protecting me. I need the truth.""
He nodded.
"You became important to Marco.""
I frowned.
"I barely knew him.""
"That's not true.""
My heart skipped.
"What?""
"You met him before we married.""
I searched my memory.
A family dinner.
A holiday party.
A business event.
Nothing.
"No, I didn't.""
Luca looked at me carefully.
"You did.""
"When?""
"The night of our engagement.""
I froze.
The night of our engagement.
Two years ago.
A private dinner at a restaurant in Brooklyn.
Luca had disappeared for twenty minutes during dinner.
He said he had taken a phone call.
I remembered being upset.
I remembered waiting alone.
I remembered him returning with an apology and a kiss on my forehead.
"What does that have to do with Marco?""
Luca's voice lowered.
"He was there.""
My eyebrows pulled together.
"Where?""
"Across the street.""
The room went silent.
"Why?""
"Because he wanted to warn me.""
"About what?""
Luca looked at me.
"About marrying you.""
The words hurt unexpectedly.
"What?""
"He thought you were in danger.""
I laughed quietly.
Not because it was funny.
Because nothing about my life made sense anymore.
"So your dead brother thought marrying me would put me in danger?""
"Yes.""
"And you married me anyway?""
His expression broke.
"Because I loved you.""
The answer came so quickly that it almost made me angry.
Almost.
Because love was not enough.
Not when it came with secrets.
Not when it left me alone.
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
"Because Marco disappeared before I could.""
"Disappeared?""
Luca nodded.
"The night after our engagement dinner, he was gone.""
"Everyone thought he died?""
"Yes.""
"And you?""
"I searched for him.""
His voice became quieter.
"For three years.""
I looked at him.
There was pain there.
Real pain.
The kind I never saw because I had been too busy grieving my own.
"Why didn't anyone know?""
"Because my father ordered everyone to stop looking.""
"Your father?""
Luca nodded.
"My father believed Marco betrayed the family.""
I stared at him.
"And you?""
"I never believed that.""
The pieces started connecting.
Marco.
Vanessa.
The threats.
The fake letter.
The divorce.
But one question remained.
"Why did Vanessa help him?""
Luca's face changed.
Like that was the question he feared most.
"Because Vanessa was engaged to Marco.""
I stopped.
"What?""
"Before me.""
The room went completely silent.
"Vanessa and Marco were together?""
"Yes.""
"And she still pursued you?""
"I don't know why.""
I looked away.
Suddenly, the woman who had destroyed my marriage became something more complicated.
Still guilty.
Still responsible.
But maybe part of something much darker.
"Where is Marco now?"" I asked.
Luca didn't answer.
"Luca.""
His jaw tightened.
"I don't know.""
The honesty surprised me.
"You think he's alive.""
"Yes.""
"And you have no idea where he is?""
"No.""
I looked back at the photograph.
The reflection.
The person watching us.
"You do realize what this means.""
Luca nodded.
"Someone wants us to know he exists.""
"Why?""
His eyes met mine.
"Because Marco was the only person who knew the truth about what happened the night you left.""
My heart started racing.
"What truth?""
Before he could answer, the lights in my apartment went out.
Complete darkness.
I gasped.
"Luca?""
"I'm here.""
His voice came from somewhere near me.
Then came a sound.
A soft click.
The sound of the front door opening.
Neither of us moved.
Because we both knew one thing.
The door had been locked.
I reached for Luca's hand without thinking.
For one second, neither of us cared about the past.
Not the divorce.
Not Vanessa.
Not the betrayal.
Just survival.
A shadow moved in the darkness.
Then a man's voice came from the doorway.
"Funny.""
My blood froze.
The voice was calm.
Almost amused.
"After three years, you're still protecting the wrong woman, Luca.""
Luca stepped in front of me.
And then the stranger said the words that made Luca go completely still.
"Did you really think Isabella would never find out what you did to Marco?""
The lights flickered back on.
And standing in my apartment doorway was a man I had never seen before.
But Luca knew him.
Because his face had gone completely white.
"Antonio.""
May you like
The man smiled.
"Hello, little brother.""
