Chapter 4 - The Man Who Controlled Sofia’s Fear
"Luciano."
Elena said the name so quietly that for a moment I wondered if I had imagined it.
But I hadn't.
Because Matteo reacted immediately.
His face changed.
Not fear.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
And that was enough.
I knew that name mattered.
I looked between them.
"Who is Luciano?"
Nobody answered.
The silence became heavier than the question.
I turned toward the frozen screen where Sofia's face had disappeared seconds earlier.
My wife had left me a message.
A warning.
Not about a stranger.
Not about an enemy outside my world.
About someone I trusted.
Someone close enough to reach my family.
Someone who knew my home.
My schedule.
My weaknesses.
"Elena."
She looked at me.
"Tell me."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I don't know how to explain this."
I stepped closer.
"You have had five years to practice."
The words hurt her.
I saw it.
But I didn't take them back.
Because pain was the only thing left in that room that felt honest.
Matteo moved between us slightly.
"Alejandro, you need to understand something."
I looked at him.
"You disappeared for twenty years."
His expression hardened.
"I know."
"You let me believe you were dead."
"I had no choice."
"Everyone always says that."
My voice became colder.
"Everyone who lies to me says they had no choice."
Matteo accepted the anger.
He didn't fight it.
That bothered me more.
Because Matteo was never someone who accepted anything.
When we were younger, he fought against everything.
Rules.
Expectations.
Even our father.
But now he stood in my house like a man carrying a weight he couldn't put down.
"You're right."
His words surprised me.
"I should have come back."
"Then why didn't you?"
He looked at the four boys.
"Because I knew if I returned, they would find them."
I followed his eyes.
The children.
Four little boys who had no idea they had just walked into the middle of a war they didn't understand.
I lowered my voice.
"Who are they?"
Matteo looked at me.
"The people who have been watching your family for years."
"Names."
"Luciano."
The name again.
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Luciano Bellandi."
The moment he said the last name, something clicked.
Bellandi.
A family that had worked with mine for decades.
Not friends.
Not enemies.
Something worse.
People who stayed close because they benefited from being close.
My father had trusted them.
I had trusted them.
"Luciano has been around since before you were born," Matteo continued.
"He was your father's closest advisor."
I stared at him.
"My father trusted him."
"Yes."
"And you think he wanted Sofia and these children gone?"
Matteo didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
I already knew.
The answer was yes.
I walked toward the table and placed Sofia's photograph down.
"Why?"
Elena spoke this time.
"Because Sofia discovered something."
"What?"
She looked at the boys.
"Something about your family."
I almost laughed.
Another secret.
Another hidden piece.
"My family?"
She nodded.
"Your father wasn't just a businessman."
I looked at Matteo.
He remained silent.
That told me enough.
"My father was involved in things I didn't know about."
Matteo looked down.
"Things neither of us knew about."
That sentence bothered me.
Because Matteo was always the one who knew everything.
When we were children, he knew where our father hid documents.
He knew which conversations were dangerous.
He knew which people were pretending.
And now he was telling me even he had been blind.
"What did Sofia find?"
Elena reached into the wooden box again.
This time she removed another item.
A small envelope.
Old.
Sealed.
My name was written on it.
Alejandro.
My fingers stopped.
Because I knew that handwriting.
I didn't need anyone to tell me.
Sofia.
"Why didn't you give me this before?"
Elena looked away.
"Because Sofia told me not to."
I stared at the envelope.
"She was my wife."
"I know."
"Then why did you obey her instead of me?"
Her voice broke.
"Because she was dying when she gave it to me."
The room became silent.
I looked at her.
"What?"
Elena closed her eyes.
"The night she died..."
She struggled to continue.
"She wasn't running away."
My heart slowed.
"Then what happened?"
Elena looked at Matteo.
And for the first time, I saw something I never thought I would see.
Guilt.
"I found her after she had already hidden the boys."
My hands tightened.
"Where?"
"In a small house outside the city."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"Because she made me promise."
"Sofia was my wife."
"I know."
Her voice became desperate.
"But she said if you found them too early, Luciano would use you to find them."
That sentence stopped me.
"Use me?"
Matteo nodded.
"Luciano knew exactly how you would react."
I looked at the boys.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning he knew you would burn everything down looking for answers."
I didn't deny it.
Because he was right.
If someone threatened my family, I would tear apart every person involved.
That was who I was.
And maybe Sofia knew that better than anyone.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
Only one sentence.
I read it.
And my entire body went still.
Alejandro,
The children are yours.
But the person who helped me hide them is someone you call family.
I looked up.
"Someone I call family?"
Matteo's face changed.
Because he knew.
I looked at Elena.
"No."
She immediately shook her head.
"Not me."
"Then who?"
Nobody answered.
My phone vibrated.
A new message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
A photograph appeared.
My blood turned cold.
It was taken inside my mansion.
Tonight.
Minutes ago.
The dining room.
The exact room where we were standing.
The four boys were visible.
Elena was visible.
Matteo was visible.
And standing behind them...
was someone else.
Someone who had been in the room before the lights went out.
Someone I didn't see.
The message below the photograph was short.
"Ask your brother why he brought them back."
I looked at Matteo.
He was staring at my phone.
And for the first time since he entered my house...
he looked afraid.
"Who sent that?"
I asked.
He didn't answer.
"Matteo."
His eyes moved toward the hallway.
Slowly.
Like he had heard something.
Then he whispered:
"Because he's already inside."
The sound of footsteps came from the second floor.
One.
Two.
Three.
Slow steps.
Someone was walking through my house.
And then a familiar voice called my name from upstairs.
"Alejandro..."
A voice I had not heard in twenty years.
My brother's voice.
May you like
But Matteo was standing right in front of me.
And the person upstairs was...
