Chapter 5 - Blood and Family
Mateo turned.
Vittorio Valente stood twenty feet away.
No weapon visible.
Silver hair.
Perfect suit.
The same relaxed expression he had worn at birthdays, funerals, weddings, and business dinners.
Mateo remembered sitting on his shoulders as a child.
He remembered Vittorio teaching him to tie a necktie.
He remembered Vittorio holding Elena’s mother while they buried an empty coffin.
And now he remembered Elena’s words.
Someone close to you.
“Get away from them,” Mateo said.
Vittorio smiled.
“You always did mistake anger for authority.”
Rafael aimed his weapon.
Vittorio glanced at it.
“You won’t shoot.”
“Try me.”
“You had fifteen years.”
Rafael’s jaw tightened.
Vittorio looked at Elena.
“My dear.”
Elena’s face hardened.
“Don’t call me that.”
“I mourned you beautifully.”
“You arranged my death.”
“I arranged an accident.”
“A woman died in my place.”
Vittorio shrugged.
“Unfortunate.”
Mateo moved.
Arya caught his wrist.
Not to stop him forever.
Just long enough.
Choice.
Evidence.
Justice.
Not revenge.
Mateo forced himself still.
“Why Adrian?”
Vittorio looked pleased by the question.
“Because doctors are trusted more than criminals.”
Arya stared at him.
“Children died.”
“Children die every day.”
Mateo stepped forward.
“That sentence will be the last thing people remember about you.”
Vittorio smiled.
“People remember what money tells them to remember.”
“Not anymore.”
A phone vibrated.
Vittorio glanced at his pocket.
That was all Rafael needed.
He moved.
Vittorio’s men emerged from the shadows.
Chaos erupted.
Mateo pulled Arya behind steel shelving.
Rafael exchanged gunfire.
Elena ran toward another exit.
Mateo followed with Arya.
They reached the alley.
A black sedan waited.
Luca drove.
He jumped out when he saw Rafael.
For one second, father and son stared at each other.
Fifteen years collapsed into silence.
Luca’s face broke.
“You’re alive.”
Rafael lowered his weapon.
“Son.”
Luca hit him.
Hard.
Rafael staggered.
Then Luca grabbed him and pulled him into an embrace.
Neither spoke.
Mateo looked away.
Some moments belonged to other people.
Arya stood beside him.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
Mateo looked at her.
“You?”
“No.”
They almost smiled.
Sirens approached.
Vittorio escaped through the rear of the warehouse.
But the situation had changed.
He was no longer invisible.
They had witnesses.
Documents.
And now Mateo knew where to look.
They regrouped at an old Valente safe house outside Manhattan.
Elena sat across from Mateo at a wooden kitchen table.
Six years.
There should have been screaming.
Accusations.
Questions.
Instead Mateo simply looked at his sister.
“You got old.”
Elena laughed through tears.
“You got mean.”
“I was always mean.”
“No. You were dramatic.”
Arya quietly left the room.
Mateo noticed.
She understood again.
Elena reached across the table.
Mateo took her hand.
Then the anger finally arrived.
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
“I stood over your grave.”
“I know.”
“Mom stopped eating for months.”
“I know.”
“You could have called.”
“If I called, Vittorio would know you knew.”
“I could have protected you.”
“That was the problem.”
Mateo pulled his hand away.
Elena continued.
“Everyone knew you would protect me.”
“So?”
“So they would use that.”
“You don’t know what I can handle.”
“I know exactly what you can handle. That’s why I stayed away.”
Mateo stood.
Elena did too.
“I hated you sometimes,” he said.
“I hated myself every day.”
Silence.
Then Mateo hugged her.
No elegance.
No restraint.
His arms closed around his sister and held on.
Elena cried against his shoulder.
“You idiot,” Mateo whispered.
“I know.”
“Never die again.”
“I’ll schedule it.”
Mateo laughed despite himself.
Later, Arya sat outside on the porch.
Mateo joined her.
She had removed the engagement ring.
It rested on the railing between them.
“You took it off.”
“I should have months ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Fear.”
Mateo nodded.
No judgment.
Arya looked at him.
“That’s new.”
“What?”
“You not telling me what I should have done.”
“I’m learning.”
“Slowly.”
“I’ve had worse performance reviews.”
She smiled.
The first real smile he had seen all night.
Mateo wanted to touch her face.
He did not.
“Was there ever anything real with Adrian?”
Arya looked toward the dark trees.
“At first.”
Mateo felt the answer hurt.
He accepted it.
“He was charming. Brilliant. Kind. At least I thought so.”
“When did it change?”
“After the engagement.”
Her fingers tightened around each other.
“The first time he grabbed me, he apologized for two hours. Flowers. Tears. Promises.”
Mateo listened.
“The second time, he said I provoked him. The third time, he said stress made him lose control.”
Arya swallowed.
“Eventually he stopped apologizing.”
Mateo’s hands became fists beneath the table.
“But you stayed for evidence.”
“At first I stayed because I was scared.”
She looked directly at him.
“I need you to understand that.”
“I do.”
“I wasn’t secretly brave every second.”
“You don’t have to be.”
Her eyes became wet.
“I hated myself for being afraid.”
Mateo shook his head.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Fear means you understood danger. Staying alive inside it was not weakness.”
Arya’s breath caught.
Mateo looked away before emotion made him careless.
“We’ll get him.”
“We?”
“If you want me involved.”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
One word.
More meaningful than any promise he could have demanded.
They built the plan before dawn.
Adrian believed Arya had been taken.
Vittorio believed Elena was exposed.
Neither knew how much evidence survived.
Arya would contact Adrian.
Pretend she escaped Rafael.
Ask for help.
Draw Adrian to his research center.
Mateo hated the plan immediately.
Therefore, he knew it was probably good.
“No.”
Arya stared at him.
“You just said I had choice.”
“I changed my mind.”
Elena laughed.
Mateo glared.
Arya crossed her arms.
“I am going.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then I go without your security.”
Mateo closed his eyes.
Manipulative.
Effective.
Infuriating.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“Body camera.”
“Fine.”
“Tracker.”
“Fine.”
“Luca nearby.”
“Fine.”
“Rafael—”
“No.”
Mateo looked at her.
“One Serrano is enough.”
Luca muttered something impolite.
By afternoon, Arya called Adrian.
He answered instantly.
“Where are you?”
“I got away.”
“Arya?”
His voice sounded frantic.
“Are you hurt?”
She almost laughed at the hypocrisy.
“I need you.”
Pause.
“Where?”
“Tell me where to go.”
Adrian gave her an address.
Vale Medical Research.
Exactly as expected.
That evening Arya entered alone.
Mateo watched through the body camera from a vehicle two blocks away.
Adrian appeared in the lobby.
He ran to Arya.
“You’re safe.”
He tried to embrace her.
She stepped back.
Mateo’s jaw tightened.
Adrian noticed the missing ring.
“Where is it?”
“I lost it.”
His face changed.
Just slightly.
“Come upstairs.”
Arya followed.
Elevator.
Hallway.
Private suite.
Adrian unlocked a door.
Inside sat filing cabinets.
Servers.
Records.
The ledger.
Arya saw it on the desk.
So did Mateo.
She moved closer.
Adrian closed the door behind her.
Click.
Mateo leaned forward.
Then Adrian said something that made everyone in the surveillance van go silent.
“I know Mateo is listening.”
Arya froze.
Adrian looked directly at her hidden camera.
And smiled.
“Come inside, Mateo.”
The feed went black.
Then Mateo’s phone rang.
Adrian.
May you like
Mateo answered.
“You have five minutes,” Adrian said, “or Arya learns what your father really did to her family.”
