Chapter 5 - The Betrayal Inside My Circle
The front door was open.
Marco was gone.
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Three seconds was a lifetime in my world.
Because betrayal didn't begin with a gun.
It began with trust.
And Marco had earned mine.
I had known him for nine years.
He was the man who stood behind me when others ran.
The man who took a bullet meant for one of my closest friends.
The man who knew where I slept, where I worked, and every weakness my enemies could exploit.
If someone wanted to hurt me, Marco was the first person they needed to remove.
And now he was gone.
"Lock down the neighborhood," I ordered.
Daniel immediately pulled out his phone.
"Already doing it."
I looked at the open doorway.
The cold air entered the house.
A few minutes earlier, I believed the greatest threat was outside.
Now I wasn't sure.
Elena held Leo close.
Victor stood beside the table, staring at the photograph on my phone.
Nobody spoke.
Everyone was thinking the same thing.
How long had Marco known?
How long had he been hiding something?
I turned to Victor.
"You knew."
His expression changed.
"No."
"Don't lie to me."
"I suspected."
"Of Marco?"
Victor looked away.
"Of someone close to you."
That answer made my blood run colder.
"Who else knew about Leo?"
Victor didn't respond.
I stepped closer.
"Who?"
"Your father had a small group of people he trusted."
"My father is dead."
"His secrets aren't."
I hated how calm Victor was.
Like he had been carrying this information for years.
Like he had accepted the consequences long before I knew there were consequences.
I grabbed the photograph from the table.
"My father was protecting Leo."
Victor nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Elena finally spoke.
"Because your father discovered what they were planning."
I looked at her.
"What were they planning?"
She looked at Leo.
Then lowered her voice.
"To erase every person connected to him."
The words stayed in the air.
Erase.
Not kill.
Erase.
There was a difference.
Killing someone ended their life.
Erasing someone destroyed everything that proved they ever existed.
Their records.
Their history.
Their name.
Their family.
I looked back at the documents.
The birth certificate.
The hidden photographs.
The missing information.
Someone had been doing exactly that.
"Who?"
Elena took a deep breath.
"Your father's closest adviser."
My eyes narrowed.
"Thomas Varela."
Victor shook his head.
"No."
I looked at him.
"You said Thomas didn't kill my father."
"He didn't."
"Then why are you protecting him?"
"I'm not."
Victor stepped toward me.
"I'm telling you the truth."
"Then tell me who."
Before Victor answered, Elena interrupted.
"Thomas was only a piece."
The room went quiet.
"A piece of what?"
She looked at me.
"A machine."
Nobody spoke.
She continued.
"Your father discovered there were people inside his organization moving money, changing records, and controlling information without his permission."
"People inside my father's company?"
"People inside your family."
The words hit harder.
Because enemies were easy.
Enemies had faces.
Enemies had motives.
Family was different.
Family was the place where you put down your weapon.
And sometimes that was where people waited.
"Who helped them?"
Elena looked at the key on the table.
"Your father hid the answer there."
I picked up the key.
"Where does this go?"
Victor answered.
"A private storage facility."
"Location?"
He hesitated.
I noticed.
"Victor."
He looked at me.
"The facility was closed after your father's death."
"That wasn't my question."
He sighed.
"Chicago."
I stared at him.
"My father kept something in Chicago?"
"Not something."
Victor looked at Leo.
"Someone."
The room became silent.
"What does that mean?"
Victor didn't answer.
And that bothered me more than anything.
Because Victor Hale wasn't afraid of death.
But he was afraid of saying something.
My phone vibrated.
Everyone looked at me.
Another message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
A video file.
The title was simple.
"YOUR FATHER'S LAST NIGHT."
My heart stopped.
I pressed play.
The screen showed security footage.
A hallway.
A building I recognized.
My father's private office.
The video was old.
Grainy.
But clear enough.
My father walked into the room.
Alive.
Healthy.
Angry.
Then another person entered.
I moved closer.
The person turned.
My entire body went cold.
Because I knew him.
Everyone in the room knew him.
The man who entered my father's office that night was not an enemy.
Not a stranger.
Not Thomas Varela.
It was Marco.
I stopped the video.
Nobody spoke.
Daniel looked at me.
"Boss..."
I raised my hand.
Silence.
I watched the frozen image.
Marco standing in my father's office.
The night my father died.
The night Marco told me he was across town.
The night he swore he had nothing to do with it.
A lie.
A nine-year lie.
Elena looked at me.
"Now you understand."
I didn't answer.
Because understanding was not what I felt.
I felt something worse.
I felt the moment trust died.
I turned toward Victor.
"Where is the storage facility?"
Victor looked surprised.
"You want to go now?"
"Yes."
"Alessandro, if Marco knows—"
"He already knows."
I walked toward the door.
"And now I need to know what else he knows."
We left the house within minutes.
Leo stayed with Elena.
I wanted him protected.
Not because he was useful.
Not because he was connected to my father.
Because he was a child who had spent too long waiting for someone to believe him.
The drive was silent.
Nobody trusted silence anymore.
Not after today.
When we reached the private airfield, I saw something that made me stop.
A black vehicle.
Parked near the entrance.
The same model Marco used.
My men immediately moved.
The vehicle was empty.
But there was something on the driver's seat.
A phone.
Marco's phone.
I picked it up.
The screen turned on automatically.
One message was open.
From Marco.
To me.
Only four words.
"I'm sorry, Alessandro."
Then another message appeared.
A new one.
Not from Marco.
From someone else.
"COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH."
I stared at the screen.
Daniel stepped beside me.
"Boss."
I didn't answer.
Because below the message was an address.
And I knew that address.
It was the old Moretti family warehouse.
The place my father had closed eleven years ago.
The place nobody had entered since the night he died.
I looked at Victor.
His face had lost all color.
"What?"
He whispered:
"That place doesn't exist anymore."
I looked back at the phone.
The location updated.
Someone was sending a live signal.
Someone was inside.
I opened the warehouse door.
May you like
It was already unlocked.
And someone was waiting for me.
