Chapter 3: The Family Crest
Luca stood motionless in the hallway.
The mansion had fallen so quiet that he could hear the faint hum of the chandelier above him.
Then the voice came again.
Muffled.
Distant.
But unmistakably human.
“Luca…”
His blood ran cold.
Victoria covered her mouth.
Marcus whispered, “Who is that?””
Luca didn't answer.
He looked at Elena.
“You're certain?””
She nodded.
“I heard him before.””
“When?””
“Three nights ago.””
“And you didn't tell me?””
Elena looked at Victoria.
“She told me what would happen if I did.””
Luca turned toward Victoria.
“What did she threaten you with?””
Victoria shook her head.
“She’s exaggerating.””
Elena's voice broke.
“She said she would make sure I disappeared before morning.””
The guests erupted into whispers.
Victoria spun toward Elena.
“I never said that.””
“You did.””
“I said you'd lose your job.””
“You said nobody would find me.””
Luca stepped between them.
“Enough.””
Victoria stared at him.
“You believe her?””
“I believe what I can see.””
He pointed toward Elena's bruised eye.
Then her wrist.
Then the silver key in his palm.
Victoria's eyes dropped to it.
Luca noticed.
“There's something else.””
She looked up.
“What?””
“You recognized the key before I told you what it opened.””
Victoria's face froze.
Luca took a slow step toward her.
“How?””
“I didn't.””
“You did.””
“No.””
“You looked at it.””
“I was surprised.””
“You looked terrified.””
Victoria’s voice rose.
“You're twisting everything!””
Luca remained calm.
“Then explain.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because you'll never forgive me.””
The words silenced the room.
Luca stared at her.
“What did you do?””
Victoria began crying.
“I didn't mean for this to happen.””
Luca's jaw tightened.
“That's not an answer.””
She wiped her cheek.
“I found something.””
“Where?””
“In your father's room.””
“What's in there?””
“I don't know.””
“You just said you found something.””
“I found papers.””
“What papers?””
Victoria shook her head.
“I don't know what they mean.””
Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“Then we'll find out.””
Victoria stepped toward him.
“Luca, don't.””
He looked at her.
“Why?””
“Because once you open that door, everything changes.””
He stared at her for several seconds.
Then he turned toward the staircase.
Elena whispered, “Mr. Luca…”
He looked back.
“Yes?””
“Don't trust her.””
Victoria's face twisted.
“You little—”
Luca raised one hand.
Victoria stopped.
He descended the stairs.
Elena remained at the top.
Marcus followed two steps behind.
Luca glanced back.
“I said stay upstairs.””
Marcus stopped.
“Right.””
Luca continued alone.
The basement was colder than he remembered.
A single bulb flickered overhead.
The walls smelled of dust, old wood, and damp stone.
At the bottom stood a long corridor.
At its end was a black wooden door.
Luca stopped.
His father's private room.
A brass plate bearing the family crest was fixed above the handle.
He had not seen it opened since childhood.
The silver key felt strangely warm in his palm.
He inserted it into the lock.
Behind him, footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Luca turned.
Victoria stood halfway down.
Her red gown looked almost black beneath the weak basement light.
“You shouldn't be here,” she whispered.
Luca removed the key.
“Neither should you.””
“I came to stop you.””
“Why?””
She looked toward the locked door.
“Because you don't know what your father was capable of.””
Luca's eyes narrowed.
“You're talking about a man who has been dead for fifteen years.””
Victoria shook her head.
“No.””
She took another step down.
“He wasn't.””
Luca stared at her.
“What?””
Victoria's voice trembled.
“Your father wasn't dead.””
The hallway seemed to contract around him.
Luca looked at the door.
Then at Victoria.
“You told me he died.””
“I know.””
“You came to my father's funeral.””
“I know.””
“You stood beside me.””
“I know.””
“Then why are you saying he wasn't dead?””
Victoria began sobbing.
“Because I found him.””
A violent pounding exploded from behind the door.
*BANG. BANG. BANG.*
Luca jumped.
Victoria screamed.
Then the voice came again.
This time louder.
“LUCA!””
Luca gripped the silver key.
“Who is in there?””
Victoria backed away.
“I can't.””
“Who?””
“I can't tell you.””
“Victoria!””
She turned toward the stairs.
Luca caught her arm.
She struggled.
“Let me go!””
“Tell me!””
“You'll hate me!””
“I already don't know who you are!””
She stared at him through tears.
Then her eyes dropped to his hand.
To the family crest engraved on the silver key.
Her expression changed.
Not fear this time.
Recognition.
“You still have it,” she whispered.
Luca frowned.
“What?””
“The second key.””
His eyes narrowed.
“What second key?””
Victoria's lips parted.
Before she could answer, something slid beneath the locked door.
A photograph.
It stopped against Luca's shoe.
He slowly bent down and picked it up.
The image was old.
Faded.
But the faces were unmistakable.
His father stood in the center.
Beside him was a much younger Victoria.
And standing on the other side of the photograph was someone Luca had spent fifteen years believing he would never see again.
Luca's breath stopped.
He looked toward the door.
Victoria whispered his name.
“Luca…”
From behind the wood came one final knock.
Then silence.
May you like
Luca tightened his grip around the photograph.
And reached for the lock.
