Chapter 42 – The Return of the Voice
The day dawned cold and overcast, as if the sky itself reflected the tension building around them. Alexander's black car glided down the quiet street until it stopped in front of his company building. A glass and steel skyscraper, the initials of his corporate empire shone discreetly at the top.
Dante, arms crossed, looked up suspiciously. "This place... is more intimidating than home."
"This is where the real decisions are made," Alexander replied, getting out of the car and walking toward the entrance.
Isabella followed them, watching everything with watchful eyes. The security guards made way, greeting Alexander with a respectful nod, and soon the three of them were inside the elevator that would take them to the top floor.
When the doors opened, Alexander's office revealed itself in all its grandeur: a large room, illuminated by the gray daylight streaming through the glass windows. Shelves filled with books, maps on the wall, and, on the large oak desk, dozens of papers arranged in meticulous stacks.
Isabella was the first to approach. Her eyes ran over the pages filled with notes, reports, printed photos, and newspaper clippings. "My God…" she murmured. "This is a real secret file."
Alexander walked to the desk and calmly rested his hands on the papers. "Two years ago, when Helena disappeared, I hired one of the best private investigators in the country. He found things… traces, movements, contacts. But I didn't push him any further. I decided to let her go."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "You? Letting go? It doesn't suit you, Alexander."
He held Dante's gaze, his voice firm but not aggressive. "Maybe not. But I knew, deep down, that one day this would come back to haunt us. I asked the detective to keep everything. Today… it's all here." Isabella looked at him with admiration and amazement. "Wow. It's like you predicted this exact moment."
Alexander stared at her briefly, then returned to his papers. "I didn't. I just know the weight choices leave behind."
There was a brief, charged silence. Then Alexander began to lay out the plan.
"What we're going to do is simple: I'll go after Helena. Myself. You two…" He looked directly at Dante and Isabella "will go after the stalker."
Dante laughed lightly, but there was no humor in his tone. "Of course. You take the girl, and we take the lunatic. Fair enough."
"This isn't about justice," Alexander countered. "This is about efficiency. You two together can track this man. He relies on moving in the shadows, but he didn't count on someone like you watching him. In the meantime, Helena needs to hear from me. It's the only way she won't run away again."
Isabella took a deep breath, then nodded. "Okay. If that's the plan, we'll follow it."
Dante shrugged. "Okay. But don't expect me to smile while I hunt this bastard down."
Alexander nodded in agreement. "I don't expect you to. I just want you to."
A few minutes later, Dante and Isabella left the room, chatting among themselves about how to track the stalker's most recent steps. The sound of the door closing left Alexander alone in the silent office.
He took a deep breath, sat in his chair, and began leafing through the papers. Old photos of Helena, notes from trips she'd taken, call logs. The past seemed alive on the desk, pulsing with every buried memory.
It was then that he found a highlighted sheet of paper with a phone number written in blue pen. Alexander's heart raced for a moment. He picked up his cell phone, hesitated only a few seconds, and dialed.
The ringing sound echoed in his ear, and for a moment he thought no one would answer. But then, a familiar voice came through the line:
"Hello?"
It was her. Helena.
Alexander closed his eyes for a moment, as if the voice were a punch from the past. "Helena."
On the other end, silence. A silence that seemed to last forever. Until she finally spoke:
"Alexander?"
"It's me." Her voice was firm, but there was a tension difficult to hide. "Your brother is causing chaos. You should come and calm him down."
Helena let out a short, almost bitter laugh. "I figured this would happen. My brother has always been a ticking time bomb."
"I'm not just talking about your brother," Alexander said, choosing his words carefully. "There's more at stake. People are being dragged into this shadow. You can't just watch from afar."
There was another silence on the line, broken only by her breathing. — You don't understand... I needed to leave, Alexander. I needed to breathe without feeling like I was being hunted by you... or by him.
Alexander swallowed hard. "I never wanted to hunt you."
"No?" Her voice trembled. "You were obsessed. Your gaze, your presence… I never knew if it was protection or imprisonment."
He didn't answer right away. He just took a deep breath and, in a lower voice, said, "Maybe it was both. But it doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that we need to end this before it destroys us all."
On the other side, Helena seemed to be thinking. When she answered, her voice sounded different, heavier. "I knew I couldn't run forever. Maybe it's time to go back."
Alexander's heart raced. "So you're coming?"
"Yes," she confirmed. "I'm going back to resolve the situation. Not for you. But because I can't stand living like a ghost anymore."
Alexander closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of relief. "That's all we need, Helena."
She didn't answer. He simply hung up, letting silence fill the office again.
Alexander held the phone in his hand for long minutes, staring into the void. The weight of that conversation still throbbed inside him. Helena would return. But under what conditions? With what feelings?
He knew nothing would be simple. Her return could reignite old wounds, open new conflicts, and perhaps even destroy what little balance remained. But deep down, there was a spark of hope. Maybe this was his chance for redemption.
Standing up, he reorganized the papers on his desk. Helena's face in the photos seemed to watch him, silent, like a judgment.
Alexander took a deep breath and murmured to himself:
"So be it."