Chapter 3 - The Brother Who Stole My Son
The person standing behind Matteo on the security monitor was impossible.
My hand froze over the screen.
My breathing stopped.
Because the face staring back at me belonged to a man who had been buried four years ago.
A man whose death certificate I had personally signed.
A man who was supposed to have disappeared the same night as my son.
Anthony’s former bodyguard.
Marco Vieri.
I stared at the monitor, waiting for my mind to correct itself.
It didn’t.
He was there.
Standing beside my brother.
Alive.
My entire life had been built on the belief that I knew who my enemies were.
I was wrong.
The worst betrayal had never come from outside my family.
It had been standing beside me the entire time.
"Alessandro."
Lena’s voice pulled me back.
I turned toward her.
She looked at the screen and immediately went pale.
"You know him."
It wasn't a question.
She knew.
And that was the moment I understood something even more terrifying.
Lena hadn’t just been running from Matteo.
She had been running from everyone involved.
"Who is Marco Vieri to you?" I asked.
She looked down.
"He's the reason Anthony survived."
The words hit me harder than I expected.
I looked back at the screen.
Marco.
The man I had trusted with my son's safety.
The man who disappeared after the kidnapping.
The man everyone believed had been killed while trying to protect Anthony.
But if he was alive...
Then the entire story I had believed for four years was a lie.
A carefully designed lie.
"Tell me everything," I said.
Lena held Lucia closer.
"I don't know everything."
"Then tell me what you know."
She hesitated.
Then she began.
"That night, when Anthony disappeared, I wasn't the only one trying to protect him."
The hallway was silent.
"Marco found out Matteo was planning something."
My eyes narrowed.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"Because Matteo already controlled the people around you."
I wanted to reject it.
I wanted to say she was wrong.
But every piece of evidence was falling into place.
"The security footage," I whispered.
Lena nodded.
"Fake."
"The missing money."
"Planted."
"The message saying she took Anthony."
"Written by Matteo."
Every accusation that destroyed Lena.
Every memory that haunted me.
Every sleepless night.
It had all been manufactured.
And I had helped them do it.
Not intentionally.
But I had believed it.
I had punished the wrong person.
"What happened after you escaped?"
Lena looked at Lucia.
"Marco helped us leave the city."
"And then?"
"He stayed behind."
"Why?"
Her expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
"Because someone had to make Matteo believe he succeeded."
I looked at her.
"What are you saying?"
Lena whispered.
"Marco became the enemy Matteo wanted him to be."
The idea was almost impossible to understand.
"He let Matteo believe he had eliminated every witness."
My jaw tightened.
"And he protected Anthony."
She nodded.
"Until he couldn't."
A strange silence followed.
"Where is my son now?"
Lena looked away.
"I don't know."
That answer angered me.
"You don't know?"
"I haven't seen Anthony in months."
The words cut through me.
"Why?"
"Because Marco told me staying together was too dangerous."
She swallowed.
"He said Matteo was watching everyone connected to us."
I looked at Lucia.
The little girl who had unknowingly walked into my life and destroyed every lie I had believed.
"Why did you bring Lucia here?"
Lena's eyes filled with tears.
"Because Anthony told me to."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"Before he disappeared again, he gave Lucia something."
She reached into her pocket.
A small folded piece of paper.
My hands felt heavy as I took it.
I opened it slowly.
The handwriting was messy.
Childlike.
But I recognized it.
Anthony.
The first word I taught him to write was my name.
Dad.
The note contained only one sentence.
"Don't trust the person who says he saved me."
I stared at those words.
A cold feeling moved through my body.
Because only one person had spent four years telling me he had helped me find my son.
Matteo.
A sound came from the entrance.
The mansion doors opened.
Slowly.
Everyone raised their weapons.
Matteo walked inside.
Calm.
Relaxed.
Like he wasn't entering a house full of people who had just discovered his betrayal.
He removed his gloves.
Looked around.
Then smiled.
"Brother."
Nobody answered.
His eyes moved to Lena.
Then Lucia.
Then the photograph still sitting in my hand.
"I see you've finally started asking the right questions."
My guards stepped forward.
I lifted my hand.
"No."
Matteo smiled slightly.
"Still protecting family."
I stared at him.
"Where is my son?"
For the first time, Matteo's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
A flash of fear.
Gone in a second.
"Alessandro..."
"Where is Anthony?"
He sighed.
"You always were emotional when it came to him."
My hands tightened.
"Answer me."
Matteo looked around the hallway.
At the portrait.
At the woman he had framed.
At the little girl who exposed him.
Then he laughed quietly.
"You really think this is about Anthony?"
Nobody spoke.
"It was never about the boy."
I stepped forward.
"Then what was it about?"
Matteo looked directly into my eyes.
"You."
The word echoed through the hallway.
"You were always the problem."
I stared at my own brother.
The person who shared my blood.
The person who knew every weakness I had.
"You destroyed my family."
"No."
He shook his head.
"You destroyed yourself."
My anger almost took over.
But something stopped me.
A question.
One question.
"If you wanted control, why keep Anthony alive?"
Matteo smiled.
And that smile told me everything.
Because he wasn't surprised I asked.
He was waiting for it.
"Because Anthony was never the only child involved."
The room went silent.
Lena's face changed.
"No."
Matteo looked at her.
"Tell him."
She stepped back.
I looked between them.
"What is he talking about?"
Nobody answered.
My heart started beating faster.
Matteo slowly reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small envelope.
And placed it on the table.
"Open it."
I didn't move.
"What is that?"
"Something Lena has been hiding from you."
I looked at Lena.
Her face had gone completely pale.
"Alessandro..."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Don't."
That single word terrified me more than anything Matteo had said.
Because Lena wasn't afraid of what I would discover.
She was afraid of what the truth would do to me.
I walked toward the envelope.
Every step felt heavier.
I picked it up.
My fingers touched the paper inside.
Then I opened it.
A photograph fell onto the table.
Not of Anthony.
Not of Lucia.
Of another child.
A baby.
And written on the back was a date.
A date from four years before Anthony disappeared.
Then I saw the name.
My name.
And below it, a sentence that changed everything.
"Alessandro Moretti, you have another child."
I looked up.
Lena was crying.
May you like
Matteo was smiling.
And behind me, the mansion's main door suddenly opened again.
