Chapter 56 – The Masks of Venice
Chapter 56 – The Masks of Venice
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A fog crept along the canals of Venice like a secret too old to be spoken aloud.
From a distance, the city looked enchanted—gondolas slicing through mirrored waters, bells tolling from towers, lovers wrapped in scarves strolling cobbled alleys.
But for Damon Moretti, the city was a scar.
It was where the first betrayal had happened.
Where the blood on his hands had never quite washed off.
He stared at the coordinates etched on the napkin Elijah had left behind. They led to a forgotten palazzo at the edge of the Grand Canal—abandoned for years after a mysterious fire no insurance company could explain.
Aurora adjusted her coat beside him, her gaze trained on the structure’s jagged silhouette.
"Why here?" she asked.
"Because this is where everything went quiet," Damon replied. "Where the first file was buried. Where my father made his last call."
"And where you disappeared for three months after his death."
He didn’t deny it.
Instead, he stepped off the boat, boots crunching against stone.
Behind them, Luca and Caleb followed. Silas was still coordinating from Milan, but backup had been dispatched and was circling discreetly.
"Security sweep?" Damon asked.
"Three teams, one drone overhead," Caleb replied. "If anything breathes wrong, we’ll know."
"Good."
They entered the palazzo through a shattered archway. It smelled of mildew and forgotten guilt.
The inner courtyard had once been beautiful—marble floors, creeping ivy, frescoes faded by fire and time. Now it stood hollow, like a mausoleum built for memories.
"Place gives me the creeps," Luca muttered, sweeping a flashlight along the walls. "Who even owns this?"
Damon glanced around. "No one. Not legally. Which makes it the perfect place for ghosts."
They didn’t have to wait long.
At exactly 9:00 p.m., a light flickered inside the far hall.
A lone figure stepped into view.
Not Elijah.
This man was older. Lean. Dressed in a tailored black coat and gloves, a Venetian carnival mask covering the upper half of his face.
His voice echoed through the corridor. Calm. Cultured. Deadly.
"You’ve come far, Damon. I wondered if you still remembered your way back."
Damon stiffened. That voice—
Aurora’s hand subtly slipped into his.
"Show yourself," Damon demanded.
The man did.
He removed his mask.
Damon’s blood ran cold.
"You’re supposed to be dead."
The man smiled. "And yet, here I am."
Aurora’s grip tightened.
Caleb stepped forward, gun already drawn. "Who the hell is he?"
"His name is Tomaso Alighieri," Damon said slowly. "He was my father’s lawyer. And fixer. Until he vanished in the fire."
Tomaso gave a little bow. "A staged death is sometimes the only escape, Damon. Your father knew that better than anyone."
"You're behind this?" Damon’s voice dropped to a growl.
"Behind what? A few truths? A few files? A few… reminders?"
"You leaked the voicemail. You hacked the vault."
Tomaso laughed softly. "I merely showed the world what you were too afraid to. You buried the truth with your father’s body. I just exhumed it."
Aurora stepped forward. "Why now?"
"Because he’s not ready," Tomaso said, nodding toward Damon. "And because you are the key."
Damon’s eyes darkened. "To what?"
"To the rest of the inheritance. The files. The vaults. The empire behind the empire."
"I don’t want it."
"But someone else does," Tomaso said, his eyes gleaming. "Maksim Petrov. Or Elijah Voss, as you know him."
The pieces clicked in Aurora’s mind. "You’re working together."
Tomaso shook his head. "Not quite. I mentored him. Then he betrayed me. Now he believes he can take what was yours."
"And you’re here because…?"
"I want you to stop him."
---
Outside, a sudden explosion shattered the silence.
Caleb’s earpiece flared to life. "Drone’s down. Entry point compromised."
Another explosion. Closer this time.
Luca turned, drawing his weapon. "We’re not alone."
Tomaso stepped back. "I’d suggest choosing quickly. Stay and die here—or leave and let Elijah finish what he started."
"Why should I trust you?" Damon snapped.
"You shouldn’t," Tomaso replied. "But you don’t have time for caution anymore. He’s coming for the last archive. And when he gets it, he won’t need to kill you. He’ll erase you."
He tossed a keycard to the ground between them.
"That opens the vault. Hidden under your family estate in Bellagio. Beneath the vineyard. Use it—before he does."
He vanished into the shadows.
A moment later, another explosion rocked the rear corridor.
"We have to move!" Caleb shouted.
---
They escaped through a maintenance tunnel, emerging by the waterline just as gunfire echoed behind them. One of Caleb’s men was hit—dragged into the shadows.
Aurora’s chest heaved as she gripped the edge of the boat. Her hands shook.
Damon placed a hand on her back, steady.
"We’re not done yet," he said.
She nodded, eyes meeting his. "Then we finish this."
---
Back in Milan, Silas watched the satellite feed of the explosion.
Someone else was watching too.
In a different city. On a higher floor.
Elijah Voss—no, Maksim Petrov—stood before a wall of screens.
On one, he watched Damon pull Aurora into the boat and vanish into the night.
On another, he watched Tomaso Alighieri slip into a dark alley.
"How sweet," Elijah murmured. "The traitor thinks he can repent."
Then he turned to the second figure in the room—face cloaked, features unseen.
"They’re getting close. Time to accelerate the timeline."
The second figure nodded.
A female voice.
Cold. Serene.
"Then let’s give them a reason to bleed."