Chapter 6 - The Traitor in the Shadows
The following morning broke cold, crisp, and clear over the lake.
Isabella woke up in her plush bed, feeling a profound sense of warmth and peace she hadn't experienced in years. The memory of Matteo’s touch from the previous night lingered against her skin like a comforting blanket.
She dressed in a warm grey wool sweater and trousers provided in the wardrobe and walked down to the estate library on the main floor.
Matteo was already there, sitting at a massive oak table with three laptops open, flanked by Marcus—his chief of security—and Signora Rossi, who had arrived via helicopter at dawn carrying secondary legal dossiers.
“Good morning,” Isabella said softly, stepping into the warm room.
Matteo looked up immediately. A soft, genuine smile touched his lips—a rare, beautiful expression that transformed his sharp face.
“Good morning, Isabella,” he said gently, standing up to pull out a chair for her. “Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have in months,” she admitted, sitting down beside him.
Marcus cleared his throat, breaking the tender moment, his rugged face etched with deep concern. “Boss, we have a major problem with the Tribeca server logs.”
Matteo’s smile vanished, his expression returning to cold steel. “What happened?”
“Someone accessed the foundation’s cloud server at two o’clock this morning from an unauthorized IP address in Queens,” Marcus revealed, displaying a complex digital security log on the screen. “They attempted to download the encrypted digital copies of the journals Isabella uploaded last week.”
Isabella felt her stomach drop. “Did they get them?”
“No,” Marcus replied. “Our firewall held. But the breach came from an internal administrative keycode. Only four people possess that level of access.”
Silence descended upon the library, thick and suffocating.
Isabella looked at Signora Rossi, who sat across the table, her face completely drained of color.
“Signora Rossi?” Matteo asked quietly, his grey eyes pinning the older woman to her chair.
Signora Rossi’s hands began to shake violently. She looked at Matteo, tears welling up in her aged eyes, her lip trembling.
“Matteo... I’m so sorry,” she choked out, her voice cracking with pure terror. “They... they have my grandson. Julian’s men picked him up outside his high school in Brooklyn yesterday afternoon.”
Matteo leaned forward, his hands resting on the edge of the table. “Why didn't you come to me, Elena?”
“Because they said they would kill him if I alerted your security detail!” Signora Rossi wept, hiding her face in her hands. “Julian demanded the administrative keycodes for the Tribeca servers! I didn't give them the translated files—I swear I didn't! I only gave them the basic server access code to buy time!”
Isabella’s heart throbbed with sympathy for the weeping woman, but she saw the dark, lethal fury rising in Matteo’s eyes.
“Marcus,” Matteo said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Trace the IP address from the Queens breach. Deploy teams one and two to the Brooklyn logistics warehouse where Julian keeps his private operations.”
“Already done, boss,” Marcus replied. “The location is confirmed. But Julian knows we know. He left a message on the server portal.”
Marcus tapped a key, and an audio file played through the library speakers.
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Julian Moretti’s cold, rasping voice filled the room:
“Matteo. Bring the original journals and your little Sicilian translator to the Brooklyn navy yard at midnight tonight. If you bring the police, or if you don't bring the girl... Elena’s grandson dies, and your foundation burns to the ground.”
