Chapter 7: Room 317
“Where?””
Charles looked at the brass key in Vittorio’s palm.
“The St. Aurelia Hotel.””
Vittorio knew it.
An old luxury hotel near the river, closed for renovation four years earlier.
“The night before Sofia died?””
Charles nodded.
“She called me from Room 317.””
“And you never told me?””
“I was afraid.””
Vittorio grabbed Charles by the coat.
“My wife died.””
“I know.””
“You stood beside me at her funeral.””
“I know.””
“You watched me spend four years believing she lost control of her car.””
Charles didn’t resist.
“I was a coward.””
Vittorio released him with disgust.
“Start talking.””
Charles glanced toward Marcus.
“He shouldn't hear this.””
Marcus laughed.
“I was already at the crash. I think I've earned admission.””
Charles looked startled.
“You were there?””
Marcus's smile vanished.
“Alessandro called me.””
Charles whispered something under his breath.
Elena stepped forward.
“What happened in Room 317?””
Charles looked at the stairs.
“Where's Lucy?””
“Safe,” Vittorio said.
“Keep her that way.””
Charles lowered his voice.
“Sofia discovered Alessandro had forged corporate guarantees worth nearly sixty million dollars.””
Marcus whistled softly.
Charles continued.
“She also found evidence he was draining her foundation through shell companies.””
“Bianca?”” Vittorio asked.
“Initially, Bianca processed transfers without understanding the full structure.””
Elena folded her arms.
“And later?””
“She understood.””
Vittorio looked toward the open front door.
“And Sofia arranged a meeting.””
“With Alessandro,” Charles said.
“Room 317. She wanted a confession.””
“Why a hotel?””
“Because she believed your home and office were being watched.””
Vittorio thought of Lucy's bracelet.
“Alessandro likes cameras.””
Charles stared at him.
“What?””
“He gave Lucy a bracelet with a camera inside.””
Charles went pale.
“Then we have less time than I thought.””
“For what?””
Charles reached inside his jacket.
Vittorio tensed.
Charles slowly removed an old hotel access card.
“Room 317 wasn't where Sofia hid the evidence.””
“You just said—”
“I said she met Alessandro there.””
He pointed at the brass key.
“That opens the hotel's private deposit compartment assigned to the room.””
Elena frowned.
“Hotels don't usually have keyed compartments inside guest rooms.””
“St. Aurelia did. It was built for diplomats.””
Vittorio looked at the key again.
“What's inside?””
“Sofia wouldn't tell me.””
“Then how do you know it matters?””
“Because three hours before she died, she called and said, ‘If anything happens to me, 317 tells the truth.’”
Vittorio's chest tightened.
“Why didn't you go there after the crash?””
“I did.””
Everyone stared at him.
“The compartment was empty.””
Marcus said, “Then we're chasing nothing.””
Charles shook his head.
“No. The key disappeared from Sofia's bag before police inventoried her belongings. I assumed Alessandro had taken it.””
Vittorio remembered the key hidden behind Sofia's photograph.
“She got it back.””
“Or someone did.””
A sound came from upstairs.
“Daddy!””
Vittorio ran.
Lucy stood at the top of the stairs holding Emma's phone.
“It's Bianca.””
Vittorio took it.
A video call was ringing.
He answered.
Bianca appeared on screen.
Her face was streaked with tears.
Behind her was darkness.
“Vittorio?””
“Where are you?””
“I don't know.””
“Is Alessandro with you?””
Her eyes shifted.
That was enough.
“Listen carefully,” Bianca whispered.
“He thinks you have the key.””
Vittorio looked at Charles.
“What does he want?””
“He says he'll trade me for it.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“Bianca?””
Her face crumpled.
“Marcus?””
“Where are you?””
“I said I don't know!””
A man's voice sounded behind her.
“Enough.””
The camera moved.
Alessandro appeared.
Vittorio hadn't seen his brother in nearly two weeks.
He looked perfectly calm.
Dark coat.
Neatly combed hair.
The same controlled expression he'd worn at board meetings and Christmas dinners.
“Hello, brother.””
Vittorio felt Lucy's hand slip into his.
“What did you do to Sofia?””
Alessandro smiled sadly.
“Straight to the wound.””
“Answer me.””
“Bring the key to St. Aurelia.””
“So you can destroy whatever Sofia left?””
“I think you should see it.””
Vittorio frowned.
That wasn't the answer he expected.
Alessandro continued.
“Room 317. Come alone.””
“Bianca first.””
“You're suddenly concerned about her?””
“I'm concerned about the truth.””
“Then stop listening to Charles.””
Charles stepped into view.
Alessandro's expression changed.
“Well.””
Charles stared at the screen.
“You should've checked whether I was dead.””
“I delegated.””
“To someone incompetent.””
Alessandro laughed.
“Still arrogant after all these years.””
Vittorio interrupted.
“Thirty minutes.””
“Twenty.””
The call ended.
Lucy looked up.
“Is Uncle Alessandro coming home?””
“No.””
Vittorio crouched.
“I'm going somewhere with Charles.””
“No.””
“I have to.””
“You promised you wouldn't leave.””
Vittorio closed his eyes.
She was right.
Again.
Elena knelt beside Lucy.
“I'll stay.””
Lucy looked at her suspiciously.
“You're not my real mommy?””
Elena shook her head.
“No.””
“Are you really my aunt?””
“Yes.””
Lucy studied her.
“Mommy loved you?””
Elena's eyes filled.
“I hope she did.””
Lucy reached into her pajama pocket.
“Then you should have this.””
She handed Elena a folded piece of paper.
Elena opened it.
Her face changed.
“What?””
Elena turned it around.
It was a child's drawing.
Sofia.
Lucy.
And a third woman with dark hair.
Above them, in Sofia's handwriting, were four words:
*Lucy, remember the song.*
Vittorio frowned.
“What song?””
Lucy whispered, “Mommy's bedtime song.””
Charles stared at the message.
“Sing it.””
Lucy hesitated.
Then softly:
“Three little stars, one silver moon, Seven steps home, I'll see you soon…”
Charles looked at the key.
317.
Three.
One.
Seven.
Elena whispered, “It's not just a room number.””
Vittorio understood.
“A combination.””
May you like
Charles nodded.
“To whatever Sofia actually hid.””
