THE MAFIA DOESN'T KNOW I'M THE TRAITOR

The cemetery became strangely quiet. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. For several seconds, Lena could hear nothing except the rain falling against the umbrellas. Then Matteo held out his hand. "Give me your phone." Lena stared at him. "Why?" "Because someone just sent a message to every member of my family using information only someone close to us could know." His voice was calm, but there was a warning underneath it. Lena slowly lowered her phone. "I don't know anything about your family." Matteo's eyes narrowed. "Then why were you invited to the funeral?" "I don't know." "Why did the message address you by name?" "I don't know." "And why did that photograph contain your mother?" Lena froze. She hadn't realized Matteo had seen the photograph. The man standing beside him noticed her reaction. "She knows something," he whispered. Matteo didn't take his eyes off Lena. "I think she does." Lena stepped backward. "I need to leave." Matteo moved in front of her. "Nobody leaves." "You're not my prisoner." "No." His expression remained unreadable. "You're a witness." A sudden gust of wind swept through the cemetery. Several people looked toward the coffin. The older man was still holding the mysterious note. Matteo took it from him. He studied the handwriting. Then his expression changed. "Where did you get this?" "It was beneath his hand." Matteo looked at the dead man. Something about the scene clearly disturbed him. Lena watched carefully. "What is it?" she asked. Matteo folded the paper. "Nothing." "That doesn't look like nothing." "You ask too many questions." "And you answer too few." For the first time, a faint expression crossed Matteo's face. Not a smile. Something closer to amusement. Then his phone rang. He answered. "Yes?" A man's voice came through the speaker. Matteo listened. His expression became serious. "Don't touch anything." He ended the call. "What happened?" someone asked. Matteo looked toward the cemetery entrance. "The gates are locked." Everyone turned. Two large iron gates stood at the end of the road. They were indeed closed. Lena's heart began beating faster. "Why?" Matteo looked at her. "Because whoever sent that message doesn't want anyone leaving." A second notification appeared on Lena's phone. She looked down. There was one sentence. "THE FIRST LIE WAS TOLD TWENTY YEARS AGO." Her fingers tightened around the phone. Another message appeared. "ASK YOUR MOTHER WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT." Lena stopped breathing for a moment. Her mother. Someone knew about her mother. Someone knew about the past. Someone knew enough to know that Lena had been raised under a different name. Matteo noticed her expression. "What did you receive?" "Nothing." "Lena." She looked at him. "You don't know me." "Then tell me something I don't know." She remained silent. Suddenly, a scream came from near the cemetery office. Everyone turned. One of the Valenti men came running toward them. "Mr. Valenti!" Matteo immediately moved toward him. "What?" "The security cameras." "What about them?" "They've been wiped." Matteo's jaw tightened. "All of them?" "Every camera." "Since when?" "Exactly twenty minutes before the funeral." Matteo looked at Lena again. This time, his suspicion was obvious. "You arrived three hours ago," he said. Lena frowned. "How do you know that?" "We checked the visitor records." "I didn't sign anything." "Exactly." The rain became heavier. Lena suddenly understood. Someone had deliberately removed the cameras. Someone had sent the invitations. Someone had sent the messages. And someone wanted her here. Her phone vibrated again. She looked at the screen. There was no text. Only a photograph. It showed the cemetery entrance. Lena recognized the image immediately. It had been taken from inside the cemetery. A figure stood in the distance behind the trees. Watching them. Lena zoomed in. The figure was wearing a black coat. Then another message appeared. "YOU BROUGHT THE TRAITOR BACK." Lena looked up. Matteo was staring at her. And this time, he wasn't asking questions. He already had a theory. She was the traitor.