Chapter 8 - THE LULLABY
We returned to Villa Moretti before dawn.
Emma refused to sleep.
So did I.
She sat on Alessandro’s enormous leather sofa drinking warm milk while twelve powerful men waited downstairs for news.
None of them knew a three-year-old might be carrying the key to their futures inside a nursery song.
I hated everything about it.
“Sing Daddy’s song,” I whispered.
Emma frowned.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
She began quietly.
“Three little lanterns under the moon,
Seven white windows, morning comes soon…”
Alessandro looked at Marco.
Marco was already writing.
The numbers mattered.
Three.
Seven.
Then:
“Four little bells where the river bends,
Nine blue doors where the old road ends…”
3-7-4-9.
Not enough.
Emma continued.
There were twelve lines.
Each contained a number and an image.
Matteo entered halfway through.
He heard three lines.
His face changed.
“What?”
Alessandro asked.
“I know those locations.”
The images were code.
Lanterns.
Windows.
Bells.
Doors.
Each referred to properties Daniel had surveyed.
When coordinates were matched to the numbers, they formed an encrypted sequence.
A safe.
Not digital.
Physical.
Daniel had hidden the list somewhere.
Marco plotted the references.
The final location appeared beneath Milan.
An old municipal archive building renovated six years earlier.
By Daniel Bennett’s company.
Of course.
We reached it after sunrise.
Alessandro insisted I stay with Emma.
I agreed.
For twelve minutes.
Then went anyway.
The archive basement was dusty and cold.
Behind a wall panel marked with a tiny blue rabbit shape, we found a steel box.
No money.
Documents.
Hundreds of pages.
The names.
People who had secretly funded Ricci’s network.
Police officials.
Businessmen.
Two judges.
Several members of the twelve families.
And one name that made Alessandro stop breathing.
Antonio Moretti.
His uncle.
His father’s older brother.
A man everyone believed had died six years ago in Switzerland.
“He’s alive?” Marco whispered.
Matteo stared at the paper.
“If Ricci has been taking orders from Antonio…”
Alessandro looked sick.
“What?”
I asked.
He folded the page.
“My uncle believed my father was too weak.”
“Is that where this started?”
“Maybe.”
A phone rang.
Unknown number.
Alessandro answered.
“Hello?”
A man spoke in Italian.
Alessandro’s face went white.
“Uncle.”
Everyone froze.
Antonio Moretti was alive.
He had been hiding outside Lugano.
Ricci had served him for years.
The Verona money had originally been intended to rebuild Antonio’s influence and overthrow Alessandro once enough families were dissatisfied with his reforms.
Daniel discovered the plan.
That was why he died.
Antonio’s voice came through speakerphone.
“You disappoint me.”
Alessandro looked at the documents.
“You’re alive.”
“For now.”
“You killed Daniel.”
“No.”
“Ricci did.”
“Yes.”
“On your order.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
My hand tightened around the edge of the desk.
Alessandro looked at me.
Something dark entered his face.
I shook my head.
Not for him.
For Daniel.
We needed truth, not another body.
Antonio continued.
“Bring me the list.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand what happens if those names become public.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“Families will fall.”
“Good.”
Matteo looked at Alessandro sharply.
Antonio laughed.
“You’ve become an idealist.”
“No.”
Alessandro looked toward me.
“Just tired.”
“Of what?”
“Men who confuse fear with loyalty.”
Antonio’s voice hardened.
“Then you’re no Moretti.”
Alessandro answered quietly.
“Maybe that’s the first good thing anyone has said to me today.”
The call ended.
Marco immediately began tracing it.
Switzerland.
A villa outside Lugano.
Alessandro wanted to go.
This time I stopped him.
“Call the authorities.”
He looked at me.
“You want Swiss police involved?”
“I want Emma to grow up without men solving everything by disappearing each other.”
That sentence silenced him.
Matteo nodded first.
“Do it.”
That surprised Alessandro.
Matteo shrugged.
“I’m tired too.”
The files went to prosecutors in Italy and Switzerland.
By evening, Antonio’s villa was surrounded.
Ricci was arrested there.
Antonio was taken into custody alive.
The network began collapsing.
Not dramatically.
Legally.
Bank accounts frozen.
Warrants issued.
Officials resigning.
Men who had seemed untouchable suddenly hiring lawyers.
I expected relief.
Instead, I felt empty.
Daniel was still dead.
Emma still had nightmares.
And Alessandro was still engaged to a woman who had slapped me.
That last problem resolved itself two days later.
Vivian asked Alessandro to meet in the garden.
I did not intend to listen.
Emma did.
She hid behind a hedge.
Naturally, I followed.
Vivian returned the engagement ring.
“I never should have accepted.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“Did you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why lie?”
“Because I loved power too.”
At least she understood herself.
“And Clara?”
Vivian closed her eyes.
“I hated that she made me feel ashamed.”
“For what?”
“For seeing how easily I became my mother.”
Alessandro said nothing.
Vivian continued.
“I hit her because I thought being above someone meant I could.”
She looked toward the hedge.
Directly at me.
She knew we were there.
“I was wrong.”
I stepped out.
Emma followed.
Vivian crouched.
“I’m sorry.”
Emma stared.
“You were mean.”
“Yes.”
“Very mean.”
“Yes.”
“Mommy cried.”
Vivian looked at me.
“I know.”
I didn’t forgive her.
Not then.
But I accepted that she had finally stopped defending it.
She left the villa that afternoon.
No engagement ring.
No wedding.
No victory.
Just consequences.
That night, Alessandro found me packing.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
His face changed.
“You don’t have to leave.”
“I’m a housekeeper.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“I was hired to clean your house.”
“You saved it.”
“I didn’t.”
“Your daughter did.”
I almost smiled.
Then he said something softer.
“I don’t want you working for me anymore.”
My stomach dropped.
“Oh.”
He immediately realized how it sounded.
“That came out badly.”
“Yes.”
“I mean I want you safe.”
“I don’t need charity.”
“I know.”
“Then what?”
He looked at Emma sleeping with the rabbit.
“I don’t know yet.”
For the first time, Alessandro Moretti had no command.
No plan.
May you like
No answer.
And strangely, that made me trust him more.
