Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
Norah stared at the photograph.
Her father's accountant.
Elias Vaughn.
She remembered him from childhood.
He used to bring her father thick folders and peppermint candies.
Then, one winter morning, he disappeared.
Her father said Elias had retired.
Six months later, everyone said he was dead.
Yet there he was.
Standing beside Matteo and Harper in Santorini.
Alive.
Arthur looked at her.
“You know him.”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“My father's accountant.”
Arthur's face tightened.
“That changes things.”
“Why?”
“He's been connected to Mr. Rossi's financial operations for years.”
Norah felt sick.
“Then why did Matteo tell me he didn't know him?”
Arthur didn't answer.
The answer came from the photograph.
Elias wasn't smiling.
He was watching the camera.
Watching whoever took the picture.
Norah zoomed in.
Something was tucked beneath his arm.
A leather folder.
On the cover was a symbol.
A small silver triangle.
Her father's old company insignia.
She remembered seeing it on documents as a child.
“That's my father's.”
Arthur nodded.
“Then your husband isn't in Santorini for a vacation.”
Norah looked at him.
“What is he doing?”
Arthur's phone rang.
He stepped outside to answer it.
When he came back, he looked different.
“Mrs. Rossi.”
“What?”
“Mr. Rossi's jet isn't coming here.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Where is it going?”
“New York.”
“Why?”
“He received information about Elias.”
“What kind?”
“Someone found out that Elias has records.”
“Records of what?”
Arthur hesitated.
“Your family.”
Norah stared at him.
“My family?”
“Yes.”
“What records?”
“That's what Mr. Rossi is trying to find out.”
Norah sat down.
For years, Matteo had told her her father's death was unrelated to his business.
He said the old man had a heart condition.
A stroke.
A bad winter.
A simple explanation.
Now nothing felt simple.
Her phone buzzed.
This time it was Harper.
You need to know what he is doing before he comes home.
Norah typed back.
Then tell me.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then returned.
Finally:
I didn't know what I was getting into.
A minute later, another message.
Matteo's father left something behind.
Norah frowned.
Matteo's father had died before their marriage.
She knew almost nothing about him.
What?
The answer arrived.
A list.
Norah's heart began pounding.
A list of names.
She stared.
Whose names?
Harper's reply took nearly a minute.
People Matteo was never supposed to betray.
Norah looked at Arthur.
“Can we find Harper?”
He shook his head.
“Not without knowing where she is.”
Norah's phone buzzed again.
A photograph.
Harper standing outside the Santorini villa.
Beside her was a small black suitcase.
On top of it sat an old gold wristwatch.
Norah recognized it.
Her father's watch.
Her hands went cold.
Under the photograph was one sentence.
She stole it from Elias.
Norah stared.
Then the photograph disappeared.
Deleted.
“Can you trace it?”
Arthur was already trying.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Encrypted number.”
Another buzz.
This time a message from Matteo.
Do not trust Harper.
Norah laughed bitterly.
Too late.
She was beginning to realize she trusted no one.
Arthur looked at her.
“What are you going to do?”
“Find out why Harper has my father's watch.”
“And if she won't tell you?”
“I'll ask again.”
Arthur smiled faintly.
“She really is your father's daughter.”
Norah looked at him.
“You knew him well.”
“Yes.”
“What did he think of Matteo?”
Arthur hesitated.
“He thought Matteo was capable of being a good man.”
“Did he believe Matteo was?”
“Not yet.”
That hurt more than it should have.
Norah went back into the study.
She opened the laptop again.
The Geneva account was still moving.
Another withdrawal.
This time twenty percent.
Then another.
The money wasn't disappearing into random accounts.
It was going somewhere specific.
A company.
Bellmont Security Holdings.
Norah recognized the name.
It had been one of Matteo's competitors.
A private security firm.
Her father had warned her about them when she was eighteen.
She had forgotten.
Arthur read the screen.
“That's not a competitor.”
“What is it?”
“A front.”
“For whom?”
Arthur stared at the company name.
“For Matteo's uncle.”
Norah went cold.
“His uncle is dead.”
Arthur shook his head.
“No.”
“What?”
“He died publicly.”
Norah stared at him.
Arthur continued.
“Privately, he disappeared.”
A heavy silence settled over the room.
Then footsteps sounded in the hall.
Norah turned.
Matteo was standing in the doorway.
His face was exhausted.
His shirt was wrinkled.
There was blood on one cuff.
And in his hand was Harper's gold bracelet.
Norah stared at it.
Matteo looked directly at her.
“Where did you get the money?”
Norah didn't answer.
He stepped inside.
“Norah.”
She pointed at his bloody cuff.
“Who did you hurt?”
Matteo looked at the blood.
Then at her.
“My uncle.”
The words dropped between them.
Norah's heart stopped.
“I thought he was dead.”
“So did everyone else.”
“Then where is he?”
Matteo placed Harper's bracelet on the desk.
“He's here.”
Norah stared.
“What do you mean?”
May you like
Matteo's voice became very quiet.
“He's the one who has been moving the money.”
