Chapter5
1171 Words
CHAPTER 5
THE SECRET HE BURIED
Elena’s POV
The two mafia captains stood there and their eyes were locked onto mine.
And they saw me listening.
For one second, nobody moved, nobody spoke and my heart rang so hard that I could hear it.
The taller man then narrowed his eyes.
“Elena.”
The way he said my name made fear crawl through me and I forced a smile.
A stupid smile.
“I was looking for Damien.”
Neither man believed me and I could see it on their faces.
The second man then took one step forward.
“What did you hear?”
My throat went dry.
“Nothing.”
A lie, a terrible lie.
Because they knew I heard something and I knew I heard something and now everybody knew it.
The taller man exchanged a look with the other and that look terrified me more than anything.
I then took one step backward and then another and the second man smiled but it was not a friendly smile.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
My stomach twisted.
“Come here.”
Every instinct inside me screamed.
Run. Run now. So I did.
I spinned around and sprint down the hallway, behind me, angry voices exploded.
“Damn it!”
“Stop her!”
My heels slammed against the floor and my heart felt like it would burst from my chest.
I then raced around a corner, then another. I knew this mansion, not perfectly but enough.
I had been here before.
Damien used to bring me here during our first year of marriage, back when he still made an effort, back when I thought we were building something together.
A painful memory flashed through my mind.
Damien standing beside a fireplace, pulling me onto his lap and pressing his forehead against mine.
“You think too much.”
I had laughed.
“That’s because you’re impossible.”
His hand had rested on my waist.
“And yet you married me.”
The memory hurt because now I didn’t even know who my husband was.
Then footsteps thundered behind me, the captains were still chasing me and I pushed harder, my lungs burned, my legs ached but I kept running.
I reached the second floor and then the third and a familiar door appeared ahead and my eyes widened.
Damien’s office.
Without thinking, I grabbed the handle and I unlocked.
Thank God.
I rushed inside and then slammed the door shut.
Click.
The lock slid into place and my entire body shook.
A second later, fists crashed against the door.
Bang!
“Open up!”
Bang!
“Elena!”
I jumped and another hit rattled the wood and my breathing became uneven and then suddenly everything went silent, completely silent.
I waited, but there was nothing, no voices, no footsteps, nothing.
The silence scared me more and slowly, I backed away from the door and my mind raced.
What was happening? Why were they talking about me?
What fire? Why should I be dead?
Why did they say I survived?
I grabbed my hair but none of it made sense.
I then looked around Damien’s office, the room felt different tonight, like it was hiding something, like the answers were here, somewhere and I swallowed hard and then move toward his desk.
If Damien wouldn’t tell me the truth, I would find it myself.
I began opening drawers, there was nothing, just contracts, business reports, meeting schedules. Useless.
I opened another drawer, more documents, nothing and frustration built inside me.
“There has to be something.”
I continued searching, desk, cabinets, shelves, everywhere and then I noticed something strange.
The bottom drawer didn’t look right and I crouched.
My fingers brushed the wood there and a small metal switch hidden underneath.
My heartbeat sped up and I pressed it.
Click.
A section of the desk slid opened and I froze.
A hidden drawer.
My hands shook as I pulled it open.
Inside sat a thick folder, just one and nothing else.
Only one folder, as if it is the most important thing in the world.
Slowly, I picked it up and my breath caught.
A name was written across the cover, not Elena Moretti, not Elena Carter and not any name I had ever used.
A completely different name and I stared at it confused.
“What is this?”
The name meant nothing to me.
I had never seen it before, yet somehow my chest tightened, like a forgotten memory was trying to wake up.
My fingers trembled as I opened the folder.
The first page contained a photograph and I blinked and then stared harder.
A little girl smiled at the camera, she stood beside a luxury car.
Maybe five years old, maybe six, dark hair, big eyes and a bright smile.
I stopped breathing because the little girl was me.
The photograph slipped in my hands.
“No.”
I picked it up again and I looked closer.
It was definitely me, the same face, the same eyes and the same dimple.
But I had never seen this picture before, never but my heartbeat became uneven and I turned to the next page.
A newspaper article.
Old. Very old. The paper looked worn and yellow around the edges.
Twenty years old.
My eyes moved to the headline and everything inside me stops.
“Mafia Leader’s Daughter Dies In Tragic Fire.”
My stomach dropped and I stared at the words and then at the picture beneath the article.
A child.
The same child from the first photograph, the same little girl.
Me.
My entire body went numb.
“No.”
I read the article again and then again, then again, the words never change, the child died, the child died in a fire.
The child died twenty years ago.
But that child was me.
I looked down at my hands and I looked at my reflection in the dark window.
I touched my face, I was alive.
So how could I be dead?
How?
The room spinned.
Questions attacked me from every direction.
Who am I?
What fire?
Why did I remember any of this?
Why did Damien have this file?
Why was my photograph here?
My fingers shook violently as I continued reading and then something slipped from between the pages, a small piece of paper.
It landed on the desk and I picked it up.
There were only four words written on it, four words.
That was all and yet they made fear exploded inside me.
“She must never remember.”
I stared at the note, over and over.
She must never remember.
Remember what?
A deep voice suddenly broke the silence behind me.
“You weren’t supposed to find that.”
Every muscle in my body froze. I knew that voice.
I knew it better than my own.
Slowly. Very slowly. I turned around.
Damien stood in the doorway and for the first time since I met him…
He looked terrified.
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