"Names?"
Marco gave them.
Alessandro recognized both.
One had worked for the family for eleven years.
The other had joined only six months earlier.
"Bring them to the library."
Within twenty minutes, the two guards stood before him.
The older man looked terrified.
"We didn't leave our posts, boss."
"Then explain how she disappeared."
"We heard a noise in the service corridor."
"And?"
"We checked."
"Both of you?"
"Yes."
"Who remained outside the room?"
The younger guard looked down.
Alessandro noticed.
"You."
The man swallowed.
"Yes, boss."
"Where were you?"
"At the end of the corridor."
"Why?"
"I thought I saw someone."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
Alessandro stepped closer.
"Did you see Elena leave?"
"No."
"Did you help her?"
"No."
"Then you won't mind if we examine the security recordings."
The young guard's face changed.
Marco looked at him.
"Something wrong?"
"No."
Alessandro turned toward the security room.
"Show me."
The recordings revealed nothing unusual.
At 4:17 a.m., the corridor camera briefly lost connection.
At 4:19, it returned.
Elena's door was open.
The room was empty.
The older guard was standing near the staircase.
The younger guard was nowhere to be seen.
Alessandro paused the recording.
"Where is he?"
Marco looked at the screen.
"He's gone."
Alessandro turned.
"Find him."
***
The missing guard was discovered that evening in an abandoned warehouse near the southern harbor.
He was alive.
He was frightened.
And he was willing to talk.
He admitted that Adrian's men had contacted him two weeks earlier. They had offered him enough money to leave the country and start a new life.
All he had to do was provide access to the estate.
He had not known they intended to take Elena.
"Where is she?" Alessandro demanded.
The guard shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Who took her?"
"Adrian's people."
"Where?"
"I swear I don't know."
Alessandro looked at Marco.
"Take him away."
When the guard had been removed, Marco approached.
"Adrian has gone too far."
Alessandro looked at the harbor.
"He's desperate."
"We should move against him."
"No."
Marco frowned.
"Why?"
"Because he wants us to."
"Boss, he's attacking the family."
"He's trying to make me act before I understand what he knows."
Alessandro turned.
"Find the original security recordings. The backups. Everything."
"Understood."
"And Marco?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell anyone what we discover."
Marco nodded.
***
The original recording was hidden on an old server in the estate's basement.
Alessandro watched it alone.
The footage showed the west gallery on the night Isabella died.
At 11:48 p.m., Vittorio entered.
He was carrying a glass.
At 11:56, Salvatore appeared.
The two men spoke for several minutes.
Then Isabella entered the gallery.
She was wearing the same dark velvet dress seen in the portrait.
She approached her husband.
Vittorio turned toward her.
They argued.
The camera had no audio.
But their movements were unmistakable.
Isabella pointed toward Salvatore.
Vittorio shook his head.
Then Salvatore stepped forward.
Isabella moved backward.
Vittorio raised one hand.
The argument continued.
At 12:14, Isabella left the room.
Salvatore followed.
Vittorio remained behind.
Alessandro leaned closer.
At 12:21, Vittorio took out his phone.
He made a call.
Then he walked toward the west gallery's private entrance.
The footage ended.
Alessandro sat motionless.
His father had not been in his mother's bedroom when she died.
He had been in the gallery.
And someone else had followed her.
He rewound the footage.
At 12:21, the door opened.
A shadow crossed the wall.
A man entered.
He was wearing a dark suit.
The image was grainy.
But Alessandro recognized the shape of his face.
Carlo Ferraro.
The guard Elena had mentioned.
He was supposed to have left the estate after Isabella's death.
Instead, he had remained inside.
Alessandro called Marco.
"Find Carlo Ferraro."
There was a pause.
"He's dead."
"Since when?"
"Three years ago."
"Where was he buried?"
"Palermo."
Alessandro looked at the screen.
"Then someone buried the wrong man."
***
Carlo Ferraro was not dead.
He was living under another name in a small town outside Genoa.
He had changed his appearance, stopped drinking, and spent most of his days repairing boats.
When Alessandro's men arrived, Carlo did not resist.
He seemed almost relieved.
He was seventy-one years old.
His hands trembled.
But when Alessandro entered the room, he recognized him immediately.
"Vittorio's boy."
Alessandro stood before him.
"Tell me what happened to my mother."
Carlo looked at the floor.
"I wondered when you would come."
"Answer me."
"Your mother was going to expose Salvatore."
"I know."
"Your father wanted to stop her."
"Did he kill her?"
Carlo shook his head.
"No."
"Then who did?"
"Salvatore."
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
"How?"
Carlo closed his eyes.
"He followed her to the west gallery. They argued. She told him that the documents were hidden. She said she would give everything to you."
"What happened next?"
"He tried to take the key."
"Which key?"
"The one that opened the compartment behind the painting."
Alessandro stared at him.
"Did he get it?"
"No."
"Then?"
"Your mother struck him. He fell. She tried to run."
Carlo looked up.
"Then he shot her."