Bound by blood and love

Letters from the dead

Luca slid a small envelope across the table. Yellowed. Stained.

Written in Matteo’s handwriting.

To Elira, if she ever lets herself live again.

She stared at it like it was cursed.

“I found it in a vault under the De Luca estate,” Luca said. “He’d left instructions. If anyone ever located you, this was to be delivered. I wasn’t sure I ever would. But then… I found this café. And your face.”

Elira didn’t open it.

Not right away.

She waited until Luca left. Until the café was empty and the night folded around her.

Then, in the dark, she read:

Elira,

If you’re reading this, it means you didn’t die with me. Good.

I never wanted to be the thing that broke you. Only the one who loved you enough to make life without me still worth something.

I have a secret.

I faked my death once before.

You probably guessed that already. But what you didn’t know is this: there’s a second ledger. Not a book of crimes. A book of names. Real names. Safe ones. Lives I built for us in case we made it.

I left it with Luca. And now that he’s found you, it means you have a choice.

You can burn it.

Or you can come find me.

Because I’m still alive.

And I’ve waited long enough.