Chapter 7 — The Girl Who Disappeared
Chapter 7 — The Girl Who Disappeared
The scream came from the second floor.
Alessandro moved before anyone else could react.
“Marco!”
“Already going.”
The mansion erupted into motion.
Guards ran through the corridors.
Doors slammed open.
Rosa shouted instructions to the household staff.
Sophia grabbed Emma and pulled her behind the kitchen island.
Elena stood frozen in the center of the room.
She looked as though she had seen a ghost.
Alessandro stopped beside her.
“You said Eliza was in Connecticut.”
“She was.”
“You said you didn't know where she was.”
“I didn't.”
“Then why is she here?”
Elena shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Another scream.
This time, unmistakably a child's voice.
“Help me!”
Emma covered her ears.
“That's her.”
Alessandro looked down.
“You recognize her?”
Emma nodded.
“She sounds scared.”
Alessandro pulled his weapon.
“Stay with Sophia.”
“But—”
“Emma.”
His tone was gentle but firm.
She nodded.
Alessandro ran upstairs.
Marco was already at the end of the hall.
“There!”
A door was swinging open.
Inside was the old guest bedroom.
Empty.
The window stood open.
Rain blew through the curtains.
A small pink backpack lay on the floor.
Marco picked it up.
“There's nobody here.”
Alessandro entered.
He noticed something beneath the bed.
A child's shoe.
He crouched.
It was tiny.
White.
With a pink flower embroidered on the side.
He picked it up.
Then he saw the blood.
Only a few drops.
Fresh.
Alessandro's expression changed.
“Lock the house down.”
Marco touched his radio.
“Seal every exit.”
“Every exit?”
“Every one.”
The mansion's security gates slammed shut.
No vehicle could leave.
No employee could enter.
Alessandro looked at the open window.
“This was staged.”
Marco nodded.
“The window was opened from inside.”
“So whoever took her wanted us to think she escaped.”
“Exactly.”
Alessandro looked at the floor.
Small footprints.
Wet.
They led toward the hallway.
Then stopped.
Marco stared.
“They disappear.”
“No.”
Alessandro pointed.
“Look closer.”
A faint line ran beneath the carpet.
A hidden seam.
Marco pulled the carpet back.
A narrow trapdoor appeared.
Alessandro stared at it.
“Another passage.”
Marco opened it.
Cold air rose from below.
Then they heard footsteps.
Not from the passage.
From behind them.
Alessandro turned.
No one.
But the door to the room was slowly closing.
He moved toward it.
Stopped.
Something was wrong.
Too quiet.
Then a woman's voice came through the darkness.
“You're getting closer.”
Alessandro raised his weapon.
“Show yourself.”
“No.”
“Where is the girl?”
“You mean which girl?”
His blood ran cold.
“Emma?”
“She is safe.”
“Eliza?”
A pause.
“Not for long.”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“Who are you?”
The voice whispered:
“Ask your sister what she did six years ago.”
The line went silent.
Elena appeared at the doorway.
“What happened?”
Alessandro turned.
“Tell me what you did.”
She froze.
“What?”
“Six years ago.”
Elena's face drained of color.
“I don't understand.”
“You do.”
“I don't.”
“Someone just told me to ask you.”
Elena looked toward the floor.
“I made a choice.”
“What choice?”
She closed her eyes.
“I chose Emma.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“Over Eliza?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Elena's voice broke.
“I was told there was only time to save one.”
Six years earlier.
Elena Moretti had been lying on a hospital bed.
She was exhausted.
Blood loss.
Complications.
Two newborn daughters.
Emma and Eliza.
Both premature.
Both fragile.
Both fighting to breathe.
Daniel had been standing beside her.
Sophia was holding one infant.
A doctor rushed into the room.
“We need to move one child immediately.”
Elena stared.
“Both.”
“We can't.”
“Both.”
“There isn't enough equipment.”
“What are you saying?”
“One baby has to go to another facility.”
“Which one?”
The doctor looked down.
“Eliza.”
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
“She has a better chance there.”
“Then take Emma too.”
“We can't.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Elena.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“We have minutes.”
Elena stared at her daughters.
Two tiny faces.
Two tiny lives.
She couldn't breathe.
Then the hospital lights went out.
The emergency generators failed.
Someone had cut the power.
The doctor shouted.
“Nurse!”
A second doctor ran into the room.
“There are men downstairs.”
Daniel looked at Elena.
“They found us.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
The door burst open.
A man entered.
Victor Hale.
He looked at the babies.
Then at Elena.
“Give me the girl.”
Elena screamed.
“No.”
Daniel attacked him.
Chaos followed.
Nurses ran.
Machines beeped.
Someone fired a gun.
Elena grabbed Emma.
Sophia grabbed Eliza.
Then Victor shouted:
“Take the other one!”
A man seized Eliza.
Sophia screamed.
“No!”
Daniel tackled him.
The baby fell.
Elena lunged.
She caught her.
Then the room filled with smoke.
Someone had started a fire in the corridor.
Daniel looked at Elena.
“Run.”
“Both babies?”
“We'll get them.”
They escaped through the service corridor.
But they were separated.
Sophia took Emma.
Daniel took Eliza.
Elena stayed behind.
When she finally reached the street, Daniel was gone.
Eliza was gone.
And everyone believed she had died.
Back in the mansion, Elena fell to her knees.
Alessandro stared at her.
“You lost her.”
“I didn't abandon her.”
“You let them take her.”
“I tried to save both.”
“And Emma?”
“I thought she was the one they wanted.”
“Who?”
“I didn't know.”
Alessandro's voice softened.
“You should have told me.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That you would hate me.”
He looked at his sister.
“I don't hate you.”
“You should.”
“No.”
He helped her stand.
“But from now on, no more secrets.”
Elena nodded.
Then the trapdoor slammed shut.
They both turned.
Marco was already opening it.
A voice echoed from below.
“Too late.”
They descended.
The passage was narrow.
Ancient brick walls.
Water dripped from the ceiling.
After fifty feet, it opened into a larger tunnel.
Marco raised his flashlight.
A small red ribbon lay on the ground.
Emma's ribbon.
Alessandro picked it up.
His heart pounded.
“She was here.”
They followed the trail.
Another ribbon.
Then another.
Then nothing.
At the end of the tunnel stood a steel door.
Locked.
Marco examined it.
“Someone has reinforced this recently.”
Alessandro looked around.
A camera was mounted above them.
Its red light blinked.
Someone was watching.
He stepped toward it.
“You wanted me here.”
The camera moved.
A speaker crackled.
“Yes.”
“Bring Eliza out.”
“No.”
“You took her.”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
The voice answered:
“She came willingly.”
Alessandro frowned.
“She is six.”
“She knows exactly what she's doing.”
“That's impossible.”
“Ask Emma.”
Alessandro's expression changed.
“What does Emma know?”
The speaker went silent.
Then:
“Everything.”
The steel door opened.
Inside was a small room.
A table.
Two chairs.
A television.
And on the screen—
Emma.
She was sitting beside a woman.
The woman turned toward the camera.
Alessandro recognized her.
Margaret Ellis.
The woman supposedly dead.
His blood went cold.
“No.”
Marco stepped forward.
“That can't be her.”
Margaret smiled.
“Hello, Alessandro.”
Alessandro stared at the screen.
“You're dead.”
“Officially.”
“Who killed the woman in your apartment?”
Margaret's expression changed.
“A woman who looked enough like me to fool the police.”
Alessandro felt sick.
“You staged your death.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To survive.”
“From whom?”
Margaret looked at the camera.
“From your grandfather.”
Alessandro's face hardened.
“He's alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Very close.”
“How close?”
Margaret smiled.
“Closer than Victor.”
Alessandro stared.
“Who is he?”
Margaret didn't answer.
Instead, she looked toward Emma.
The little girl was sitting beside her.
Emma appeared frightened.
But unharmed.
Alessandro spoke.
“Let her go.”
Margaret shook her head.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because she is the only person who can lead us to Eliza.”
Alessandro frowned.
“How?”
“Because they were never separated.”
He stared.
“What?”
Margaret continued.
“Your father made everyone believe the girls were separated at birth.”
“They weren't?”
“No.”
“Then where was Eliza?”
Margaret looked at Emma.
“With her.”
Alessandro's blood ran cold.
“What are you saying?”
“Emma knows where her sister is.”
Alessandro looked at the screen.
“Emma?”
The child turned toward the camera.
She looked directly at him.
Then she whispered:
“She's under the house.”
Alessandro's heart stopped.
“What?”
Emma pointed downward.
“She never left.”
Margaret smiled.
“Now you understand.”
Alessandro turned toward Marco.
“Search the entire underground level.”
Marco immediately moved.
Alessandro looked back at the screen.
“Why are you doing this?”
Margaret's expression became serious.
“Because if we don't find Eliza first, your grandfather will.”
“Why does he want her?”
“Because she has something Emma doesn't.”
“What?”
Margaret hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Her father's blood.”
Alessandro stared.
“Emma has the same blood.”
“No.”
Margaret shook her head.
“Emma is Elena's daughter.”
“And Eliza?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Eliza is Luca's.”
Silence.
Alessandro finally understood.
The twins had different fathers.
Elena had hidden that fact.
And Luca's bloodline made Eliza the legitimate heir to the Moretti empire.
That was why Aurelio wanted her.
That was why Victor had protected her.
That was why everyone had been searching.
Not because of a six-year-old child.
But because of what her existence meant.
Then a scream came from somewhere beneath the mansion.
A little girl's scream.
Alessandro turned.
Marco's voice echoed through the passage.
“Boss!”
Alessandro ran.
He reached the lowest chamber.
There, beneath the foundation of the mansion, stood a small wooden door.
It had been painted white.
A child's drawing was taped to it.
Two girls holding hands.
One labeled:
EMMA
The other:
ELIZA
Alessandro opened the door.
Inside was a tiny room.
A bed.
A blanket.
A plate of untouched food.
And on the wall—
six years' worth of marks.
One for every day.
Alessandro stared at them.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Someone had been keeping a child down here.
Marco whispered:
“Jesus.”
Alessandro stepped inside.
“She's been here.”
Elena arrived behind him.
She saw the room.
Her face collapsed.
“No.”
Sophia came next.
She looked at the bed.
Then screamed.
“That's her blanket.”
Alessandro turned.
“Whose?”
“Eliza's.”
The room suddenly became silent.
Then they heard something.
A faint tapping.
Three knocks.
Pause.
Three knocks.
Pause.
Alessandro crouched.
The sound was coming from beneath the floor.
Marco pulled away the wooden boards.
Underneath was another passage.
Alessandro shone his flashlight down.
A little girl was hiding inside.
She looked up.
Brown eyes.
Wet cheeks.
A small white dress.
She whispered:
“Are you my brother?”
Alessandro froze.
“Yes.”
The girl began crying.
“My name is Eliza.”
Alessandro reached down.
She grabbed his hand.
Then whispered:
“Please don't let Grandpa find me.”
Alessandro pulled her into his arms.
“I won't.”
But behind him, Elena was staring at the wall.
There was something written there.
Something that made her blood run cold.
A message carved into the stone.
HE NEVER LEFT.
Elena whispered:
“Alessandro…”
He turned.
“What?”
She pointed.
“Your grandfather has been living beneath this house.”
At that exact moment, every light in the underground passage went out.
A man's voice came from the darkness.
Old.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“You finally found my girls.”
Alessandro turned toward the sound.
And for the first time in his life, he heard the voice of Aurelio Moretti.
His grandfather.
The man who was supposed to have died nearly thirty years ago.
May you like
“Now,” the old man said,
“we can finally talk.”
