Chapter 5 - The Letter I Was Never Supposed to Write
The darkness lasted only a few seconds.
But in those seconds, everything changed.
I heard movement.
Not one person.
Several.
The kind of movement that came from people who already knew where they were going.
The kind of movement that came from people who had planned this moment.
I immediately reached for my weapon.
Luca moved toward Isabella.
Giovanni Moretti didn't move at all.
My father simply stood there in the darkness.
Calm.
Too calm.
Then the emergency lights turned on.
The room returned in a red glow.
And everyone froze.
Because the envelope was gone.
The table was empty.
The one thing my father had carried for years.
The one thing that somehow had my handwriting.
Disappeared.
My eyes moved around the room.
Nobody had left.
Nobody had entered.
But someone had taken it.
I looked at my father.
His expression was no longer calm.
For the first time since I saw him alive, I saw anger.
Not toward me.
Toward someone else.
"They're here."
His voice was quiet.
I turned.
"Who?"
He looked toward the hallway.
"The people who made me disappear."
The words had barely left his mouth when Shadow barked.
The German shepherd moved toward the far corner of the room.
Not the door.
Not the windows.
The corner.
Everyone followed his gaze.
There was a small vent near the ceiling.
Something had moved behind it.
Giovanni Ferrara immediately grabbed a chair and pulled it beneath the vent.
Luca looked at me.
"Someone was inside the walls."
I didn't answer.
Because I already knew.
This place was supposed to be secure.
My home.
My territory.
And someone had been inside without any of us knowing.
That was not an attack.
That was a message.
I looked at my father.
"You knew they would come."
He didn't deny it.
"Yes."
"How long?"
A pause.
"Since the moment Shadow reached you."
My expression hardened.
"You used the dog."
"No."
His answer came immediately.
"I trusted him."
I looked at Shadow.
The dog stood perfectly still.
Watching my father.
Then watching me.
Like he was waiting for both of us to understand something.
"What was in that letter?"
My father's face changed.
Pain.
Regret.
Something I never expected to see from him.
"Everything."
"Everything about what?"
"About you."
The answer confused me.
"Me?"
He nodded.
"Before I disappeared, I discovered something about our family."
He looked at Isabella.
"Something your mother tried to hide from you."
I turned toward Isabella.
She lowered her eyes.
Another secret.
Another person who thought protecting me meant keeping me in the dark.
"How many lies have I lived?"
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.
Or maybe everyone knew.
My father stepped closer.
"When you were born, I wrote a letter."
I looked at him.
"With my handwriting?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He took a breath.
"Because I knew there would come a day when I couldn't tell you the truth myself."
I stared at him.
"But why does it look like I wrote it?"
My father looked toward the place where the envelope had disappeared.
"Because you did."
The room became silent.
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because nothing made sense anymore.
"I was a child."
"I know."
"Then how?"
My father looked at Isabella.
She answered.
"I wrote it."
I turned toward her.
"What?"
She stepped forward.
Her eyes were full of guilt.
"Your father recorded his message."
A pause.
"Years later, I recreated it."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because the original was destroyed."
My father's expression darkened.
"The people hunting us found it."
Isabella continued.
"I needed you to believe it came from you."
I shook my head.
"I don't understand."
She looked at me.
"Because the truth wasn't meant for Alessandro Moretti the mafia boss."
A pause.
"It was meant for Alessandro the child."
Those words hit harder than I expected.
My father looked away.
"Before I built an empire, before I became who everyone feared, I was just a man trying to protect my family."
He looked at me.
"I knew one day people would come after our bloodline."
"Why?"
His answer was immediate.
"Because of what your grandfather left behind."
The same phrase again.
The same mystery.
The same missing piece.
"What did he leave?"
My father looked toward Shadow.
"The dog brought you because he knew you were ready."
I looked at the animal.
"Ready for what?"
My father didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward the wall.
He removed an old painting.
Behind it was a hidden compartment.
I stared.
Because I had lived in this house for years.
I knew every room.
Every hallway.
Every secret entrance.
Except this one.
Inside was another photograph.
A family photograph.
My father.
My mother.
Me.
But someone had been cut out.
A person removed from the picture.
My eyes narrowed.
"Who is that?"
My father didn't answer.
Because he didn't need to.
I saw the name written on the back.
A name I recognized.
A name that made Isabella step backward.
A name that made Luca's face lose all color.
"Victor Morelli."
The room went silent.
I looked at them.
"Who is Victor?"
My father looked at me.
"Your uncle."
My eyebrows tightened.
"I don't have an uncle."
My father nodded.
"Exactly."
The photograph trembled slightly in my hand.
Because someone had erased a person from my family history.
Not hidden.
Erased.
My father continued.
"Victor was supposed to inherit everything."
"But I did."
"Yes."
A pause.
"And that was why he tried to destroy us."
The pieces started connecting.
The fake messages.
The missing letter.
The lies.
The people who disappeared.
"Where is he now?"
Nobody answered.
That frightened me.
Because I knew that silence.
The silence people gave when the answer was worse than the question.
Finally, Isabella spoke.
"He was never gone."
I looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
She walked toward the window.
"Victor has been watching this entire time."
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Watching who?"
She looked back.
"You."
My phone suddenly vibrated.
Everyone froze.
Unknown number.
Again.
I answered.
No one spoke.
Then a voice came through.
Old.
Calm.
Familiar.
A voice that made my father turn pale.
"Alessandro."
I gripped the phone.
"Who is this?"
A quiet laugh.
"You really don't remember me."
The room became colder.
Because my father whispered one word.
"No."
The voice continued.
"I waited years for this moment."
A pause.
"Your father stole my life."
Another pause.
"And you stole my future."
I looked at my father.
He looked terrified.
Not worried.
Not cautious.
Terrified.
The voice spoke again.
"Tell your father I found the letter."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"Where are you?"
Silence.
Then the voice answered.
"I'm already inside."
The call ended.
May you like
At the exact same moment, Shadow turned toward the locked study door.
And started growling.
