CHAPTER 2: THE LETTER FROM A DEAD MAN
Alejandro carried the envelope into his father’s old study.
Elena sat beside him on the leather sofa while detectives searched the west wing. Vivian had been placed under guard in the library, where she continued demanding access to an attorney.
Alejandro turned the envelope over.
The wax seal was unbroken.
“My father died seven years ago,” he said. “How did this end up in that safe?”
Elena looked at the black ledger on the desk.
“I found it three years ago.”
Before her disappearance, Elena had served as director of the Castillo Foundation, the charitable organization funded by the family’s hotels, shipping companies and real estate holdings.
She had discovered irregular payments disguised as construction grants.
Millions of dollars had supposedly been sent to hospitals and schools that did not exist.
When she began asking questions, the foundation’s chief financial officer resigned and vanished.
Elena followed the transactions through several shell corporations.
Every trail eventually led back to Vivian Moretti.
Vivian had entered the Castillo family’s world as a financial consultant. After Alejandro’s father died, she became increasingly involved in the foundation and eventually took control of several private trusts.
“I thought she was stealing from the charities,” Elena said. “But then I found your father’s letter.”
Alejandro carefully broke the seal.
The letter was four pages long.
His father’s handwriting weakened toward the end, written during the final months of his illness.
Alejandro read aloud.
Alejandro,
If you are reading this, then Elena has discovered what I lacked the courage to tell you.
Years ago, I allowed the Moretti family to hide money through our companies. I believed it would protect Castillo Industries during a financial crisis. Instead, I gave dangerous people a door into our home.
Vivian knows where the accounts are located. She also knows that exposing them could destroy our company and implicate me.
I have tried to end the arrangement, but she has threatened our employees and our family.
Trust Elena. She sees clearly where the rest of us see only reputation.
Whatever happens, choose the truth over the Castillo name.
Alejandro lowered the letter.
For several seconds, the only sound was the rain tapping against the study windows.
“My father knew.”
“He was afraid,” Elena said.
“He left us to clean up his fear.”
Elena reached for his hand.
“There’s more.”
The black ledger contained handwritten records of payments to judges, physicians, private investigators and employees inside Castillo Industries.
Vivian had not simply stolen money.
She had built a network.
When Elena discovered it, Vivian invited her to the mansion under the pretense of discussing the foundation accounts.
Elena arrived alone.
A physician paid by Vivian gave her a drink containing a powerful sedative.
When Elena awoke, she was inside the old nursery.
Vivian told the staff that Elena had suffered a breakdown and had been moved to a private treatment facility overseas.
She then created false airport footage using a woman with similar height and hair.
The investigators Alejandro hired received fabricated bank withdrawals, phone records and travel documents.
Every lead pointed away from the mansion.
“But why keep you here?” Alejandro asked.
“The ledger.”
Vivian knew Elena had hidden the original records somewhere inside the mansion.
She believed Elena would eventually reveal the location.
For months, Vivian questioned her.
When Elena refused to cooperate, Vivian kept her isolated and heavily medicated.
Over time, Elena learned to pretend that she had forgotten details.
She pretended not to recognize names.
She pretended not to remember where the evidence was hidden.
Eventually, Vivian believed the medication had damaged her memory.
“That’s when she began letting me work downstairs,” Elena said. “Only when you were traveling.”
Alejandro felt sick.
Vivian had carefully studied his calendar.
Each time he returned, Elena was moved back into the west wing.
But three days earlier, a storm damaged the mansion’s electronic security system. The door to Elena’s room unlocked for several minutes.
She escaped into the servants’ quarters.
Rosa hid her.
They planned to contact the police, but Vivian discovered that someone had entered the west wing.
She ordered the entire staff searched.
Before she could find Elena, Alejandro arrived unexpectedly.
“I changed my flight,” he said.
Elena nodded.
“That saved me.”
A detective entered the study carrying one of the recovered flash drives.
“We found video files.”
The footage showed Vivian entering the nursery repeatedly.
In one recording, she stood beside Elena’s bed and held up a newspaper containing a photograph of Alejandro at a business event.
“He has moved on,” Vivian said in the video. “He stopped looking months ago.”
Elena’s recorded voice answered from outside the camera’s view.
“You wouldn’t keep showing me his picture if you believed that.”
Vivian slapped the newspaper onto the table.
“He will marry me eventually.”
The recording ended.
Alejandro looked toward the study door.
“This was never only about money.”
Elena shook her head.
“Vivian wanted your family’s companies. She wanted your position. And she wanted me erased.”
Another detective entered.
“We’ve reviewed the security system. Someone remotely deleted footage from the west wing fifteen minutes before Mr. Castillo arrived tonight.”
“Vivian?” Alejandro asked.
“She was visible on the staircase at that time.”
“Then she had help.”
The room fell silent.
Alejandro thought about everyone who had known he was returning.
His pilot.
His driver.
His executive assistant.
His younger cousin, Gabriel, who managed the mansion whenever Alejandro traveled.
Gabriel had been raised alongside him like a brother.
He also controlled the family’s private security company.
Before Alejandro could speak, every light in the mansion went out.
The security alarm died with them.
A scream echoed from the library.
Alejandro rushed into the corridor.
By the time emergency lighting flickered on, the guards assigned to Vivian were unconscious.
The French doors stood open.
Vivian was gone.
May you like
On the library table, someone had written a message across the polished wood with spilled wine:
THE LEDGER FOR ELENA. MIDNIGHT. COME ALONE.
