Chapter 2
Domenico did not sleep.
By sunrise, the wedding had been suspended, the remaining guests sent home, and the ballroom sealed for documentation.
Livia slept in a guest suite with a pediatric nurse nearby.
Camilla and Marco remained at the estate.
Not as prisoners.
Domenico simply made it clear that leaving before he finished asking questions would end whatever relationship remained between them.
Camilla sat opposite him in the library.
Her confidence had returned in pieces.
“You think I knew what was in that envelope.”
Domenico turned the brass key between two fingers.
“You knew about Locker Seventeen.”
“My mother told me.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
Marco stood near the fireplace.
His arms were crossed.
Too relaxed.
Domenico noticed.
Camilla continued.
“My father came home terrified two nights before the warehouse fire. He told my mother there was proof hidden somewhere the family couldn't reach.”
“Proof of what?”
“She never knew.”
Domenico’s eyes narrowed.
“Then why did you panic when the envelope appeared?”
Camilla’s fingers slowly folded together.
“Because I thought it proved everyone was right about him.”
Her voice hardened.
“For twenty-two years, your side of this family has called my father a thief.”
Domenico held her gaze.
“My father called him one too.”
“That was enough for everyone.”
There was real pain beneath the anger now.
That did not erase what she had done to Livia.
But it explained why resentment had become so easy to feed.
Domenico unfolded Angelo’s letter.
It contained only six paragraphs.
Enzo had been innocent.
Another man had manipulated family accounts.
Angelo believed the original records survived.
Locker Seventeen supposedly contained the proof.
The final line read:
If I fail to clear Enzo’s name, Domenico must do what I was too weak to finish.
Domenico looked up.
“Where was the locker?”
Camilla hesitated.
“Old South Pier storage.”
Marco spoke for the first time.
“The building was demolished twelve years ago.”
Domenico slowly turned toward him.
“You knew that quickly.”
Marco’s eyes sharpened.
“I handled transportation properties.”
“Twenty-two years ago?”
A pause.
Marco was twenty-one then.
“No.”
Domenico leaned back.
“So how do you know which building?”
Marco’s nostrils flared.
Camilla looked at her husband.
For the first time, suspicion entered her expression.
Marco noticed.
His tone changed.
“My father talked about it.”
Domenico’s gaze remained still.
Marco’s father, Raffaele Valenti, had served as Angelo’s security chief.
And according to family history, Raffaele had been the man who first accused Enzo of stealing.
Domenico stood.
Camilla’s breathing stopped.
“Where are you going?”
“To see whether demolished buildings leave records.”
Marco’s mouth tightened.
Domenico stopped at the doorway.
Then looked back.
“Camilla.”
She raised her eyes.
“Your father may have died innocent.”
Her lips trembled.
May you like
“But someone in this room already knew where the proof was supposed to be.”
Camilla slowly turned toward Marco.
