Chapter 3 - The Secret Under Roselli’s
The next morning, Grace arrived to find Tony sitting alone at the counter.
He looked like he hadn't slept.
“Tony?”
He looked up.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Grace sat beside him.
“What happened?”
Tony rubbed his hands together.
“You remember my brother Daniel?”
Grace nodded.
Daniel Roselli had died eleven years earlier.
She had met him only once.
Tony rarely spoke about him.
“What about him?”
“Daniel used to work for Martell.”
Grace went still.
“Vincent?”
Tony nodded.
“Before Martell Holdings was what it is today.”
“Doing what?”
Tony hesitated.
“He handled transportation.”
That vague answer told Grace everything and nothing.
“Transportation for what?”
Tony stared at the coffee cup in his hand.
“Things people weren't supposed to know about.”
Grace’s stomach tightened.
“Tony.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You knew Vincent was involved?”
“I knew who he was.”
“And you never told me?”
“I never wanted that world anywhere near this place.”
Grace looked around the restaurant.
“What world?”
Tony lowered his voice.
“Back when Vincent’s father ran things, there were shipments through this neighborhood. Cash. Drugs. Weapons. Information. Whatever people paid for.”
Grace felt cold.
“And Daniel?”
“He wanted out.”
“What happened?”
Tony’s eyes became wet.
“He was killed.”
Silence.
“By Vincent?”
“No.”
Tony looked toward the kitchen.
“Everyone thought so.”
Grace swallowed.
“Who actually did it?”
“We never found out.”
A slow realization settled over her.
Vincent’s father had built an empire.
Vincent had inherited it.
Daniel had tried to leave.
And now Marcus Vale was trying to force Roselli’s out.
The pieces were beginning to form a picture.
But there was one piece missing.
Why Grace?
She left Tony at noon and went to Martell Holdings.
The receptionist looked terrified when Grace announced herself.
Five minutes later, Vincent appeared.
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“You should have called.”
“You should have told me.”
Vincent stopped.
“What did Tony tell you?”
“That my restaurant sits on top of your old transportation route.”
Vincent closed his eyes briefly.
“Partially.”
Grace stepped closer.
“What else?”
He looked at her.
“This is where I tell you to leave again.”
“No.”
“Grace.”
“No.”
He studied her for a long moment.
Then he walked toward his office.
She followed.
His private office was nothing like she expected.
There were no flashy decorations.
No gold.
No giant portrait of himself.
Just dark wood, books, city maps, and a wall of photographs.
Grace stopped.
She recognized one immediately.
Tony.
Daniel.
And a much younger Vincent.
All three were standing outside Roselli’s.
“This was taken twenty years ago,” Vincent said.
Grace stared.
“You knew Daniel.”
“I did.”
“He worked for your family.”
“He worked for me.”
“Were you involved in his death?”
Vincent looked directly into her eyes.
“No.”
She wanted to believe him.
But belief was dangerous.
“So why are you protecting this restaurant?”
Vincent moved to his desk.
“Because Daniel once asked me for one favor.”
“What favor?”
“Keep his brother safe.”
Grace looked stunned.
“Tony?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve been doing that for eleven years?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vincent’s voice became quiet.
“Because I failed Daniel.”
He opened a drawer.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel stood beside a young woman.
Grace took one look and froze.
The woman was her mother.
Grace stepped backward.
“What?”
Vincent watched her carefully.
“You knew my mother?”
“No.”
“Then why is she with Daniel?”
“I don't know.”
Grace reached for the photograph.
On the back was a handwritten message.
Grace recognized the handwriting immediately.
Her mother had died when Grace was sixteen.
The message said:
Keep Grace away from Vincent Martell.
Grace's heart pounded.
“What does this mean?”
Vincent's expression darkened.
“I don't know.”
“Someone told my mother to keep me away from you.”
“Apparently.”
“But why?”
“I've been trying to answer that question for eleven years.”
Grace stared at him.
“You've been investigating my mother?”
“Yes.”
“You've been investigating me?”
“Yes.”
Anger flashed through her.
“How long?”
“Since I saw your name in the restaurant employee records.”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“So you knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“And you still came to Roselli’s.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vincent took a breath.
“Because I wanted to see if you were the same kind of person Daniel believed you would become.”
Grace’s eyes widened.
“What did he say about me?”
“He told me that if anything happened to him, you might become stronger than anyone expected.”
“That’s impossible. I barely knew him.”
“He knew you existed.”
Grace stared at the photograph.
Her mother's face looked younger.
Happier.
Secretive.
There was something else written beneath Daniel's signature.
Three numbers.
4-17-9.
“What are those?”
Vincent looked.
“I don't know.”
Grace pointed toward the wall map.
“Then perhaps we should find out.”
Vincent looked at her.
“We?”
“Yes.”
“You're volunteering for something dangerous.”
“I work in a restaurant.”
“That isn't a qualification.”
“It should be.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Then he became serious again.
“Grace, I don't want you involved.”
“You already involved me.”
“I didn't choose that.”
“Neither did I.”
They stood facing each other.
Too close.
The air between them changed.
Grace became painfully aware of how tall he was.
Vincent noticed the same thing about her.
Then the office door opened.
Nico Martell walked inside.
Vincent's younger half-brother.
He stopped when he saw Grace.
His expression changed.
“She's here.”
Vincent turned.
“Yes.”
Nico looked at Grace.
Then at the photograph.
And Grace saw fear.
Not surprise.
Fear.
Nico quietly said,
“Vincent, we need to talk.”
“Later.”
“No.”
Nico shut the door.
“Now.”
Grace folded her arms.
“Apparently this involves me.”
Nico hesitated.
Then he spoke.
“The numbers on Daniel's photograph aren't random.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Explain.”
“They correspond to a storage unit.”
Grace's breath caught.
“Where?”
Nico gave the address.
It was less than a mile from Roselli’s.
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“Who has access?”
Nico looked at Grace.
“Apparently, you do.”
Grace froze.
“What?”
Nico pulled out a key.
The number was handwritten on it.
4-17-9.
Grace stared at the key.
She remembered it.
Her mother had given it to her when she was twelve.
She had kept it inside an old jewelry box for twenty years.
She had forgotten about it.
Vincent saw the recognition on her face.
“You know that key.”
Grace whispered,
“It was my mother's.”
Nobody spoke.
Nico looked at Vincent.
“This just got worse.”
Vincent nodded.
“Yes.”
He looked at Grace.
“We're going to that storage unit.”
Grace tightened her grip around the key.
“No.”
Vincent frowned.
“No?”
“I’m going first.”
“You're not going anywhere alone.”
Grace stared at him.
“Then keep up.”
May you like
For the first time, Vincent smiled openly.
And for the first time in eleven years, the door to Daniel Roselli's final secret was about to open.
