Chapter 5 - The Man Who Knew My Father’s Secret
The message stayed on my screen.
Your father’s killer wants to meet you.
For a moment, I forgot there were people standing around me.
I forgot the wedding.
I forgot the guests.
I forgot Isabella.
All I could see was that sentence.
Because my father had been dead for twelve years.
And everyone had always told me the same story.
He died because of a business conflict.
A betrayal between rival families.
A mistake made by powerful men who thought they could challenge Antonio Moretti.
That was the story I accepted.
The story I built my entire life around.
But now, for the first time, I wondered if it had ever been true.
"Boss."
Marco's voice pulled me back.
He was watching me carefully.
"What does it say?"
I didn't answer immediately.
Because saying the words out loud would make them real.
"My father's killer wants to meet me."
The room froze.
My mother closed her eyes.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Afraid.
That was the reaction I couldn't ignore.
Lucia Moretti was not afraid of enemies.
She had buried a husband.
She had raised a son inside a world where every handshake could hide a weapon.
She had survived things most people would never know about.
But those words frightened her.
"Mom."
She looked at me.
"Alessandro..."
"No."
My voice was colder than I intended.
But I couldn't stop it.
"Not this time."
She looked down.
"Your father wanted to protect you."
"From what?"
She didn't answer.
"Mom."
Her eyes filled with emotion.
"From becoming exactly like him."
The sentence hit harder than I expected.
Because deep down, I had always feared that.
My entire life had been built around becoming the man my father was.
Stronger.
Smarter.
More dangerous.
I believed that if I could become powerful enough, nobody would ever take anything from me again.
But maybe my father wasn't trying to create another version of himself.
Maybe he was trying to stop me from becoming one.
"Who killed him?" I asked.
My mother stayed silent.
"I asked you a question."
She looked at Sophia and Emma.
Then at Marco.
She lowered her voice.
"Not here."
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was exactly what everyone had been saying for years.
Not here.
Not now.
Not yet.
There was always a reason to wait.
A reason to hide.
A reason I couldn't know.
But that ended today.
"No more secrets."
My mother looked at me.
"Alessandro..."
"No."
I stepped closer.
"The woman I was going to marry has been hiding things from me."
I looked at the security screen.
"The person who copied my security files knew about my father."
I looked at the old recording.
"My father left messages warning me."
Then I looked at her.
"And my own mother knows more than she ever told me."
The silence that followed was painful.
Because nobody denied it.
Not one person.
That was the worst part.
The truth didn't hurt because it was unbelievable.
It hurt because everyone else already knew.
Except me.
Thirty minutes later, the wedding guests were gone.
The official explanation was simple.
A security issue.
A private family matter.
Nobody questioned it.
People in my world understood when to leave.
The garden that had been prepared for celebration was empty.
The white roses remained.
The champagne remained.
The untouched wedding cake remained.
Everything looked perfect.
Except the marriage that never happened.
I stood inside my father's old office.
The same room where he made decisions that changed people's lives.
Marco stood beside the desk.
My mother sat across from me.
Sophia and Emma were in another room with security protection.
I had ordered it.
If someone was willing to threaten a child to stop the truth from coming out, I wasn't taking chances.
"Start from the beginning," I said.
My mother looked at the old photographs on the shelf.
"My father?"
She nodded.
"Your father knew someone inside the family was betraying him."
"Who?"
She shook her head.
"He never told me."
I stared at her.
"You expect me to believe that?"
She looked hurt.
But I didn't move.
"I loved your father," she said.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
Her voice cracked.
"You know the man everyone feared."
She touched the photograph of Antonio.
"I knew the man who stayed awake at night because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to protect his family."
I remained silent.
"He spent his final months searching for someone."
"Who?"
She looked at me.
"You."
I frowned.
"What?"
"He believed someone was trying to use you."
The room became quiet.
"Use me for what?"
She didn't answer.
Again.
Another silence.
Another secret.
I stood.
"Enough."
My mother looked up.
"I don't know everything."
"Then tell me what you do know."
She took a breath.
"Your father discovered that someone had been moving money through companies connected to the Moretti family."
Marco immediately looked up.
"Impossible."
My mother nodded.
"That was his reaction too."
"Who had access?"
"Only a few people."
I waited.
She looked at me.
"Your father's closest circle."
My mind immediately went through the names.
People who had been with him for decades.
People who attended his funeral.
People who advised me after his death.
People who told me they loved my father.
"Names."
My mother hesitated.
Then said:
"Antonio's brother."
I froze.
"My uncle?"
She nodded.
"He was involved."
"Was?"
My mother looked away.
"Because your father removed him."
I stared.
"My father killed his own brother?"
"No."
Her answer came immediately.
"He disappeared."
That word bothered me.
Disappeared.
Not dead.
Not gone.
Missing.
Before I could ask more, Marco's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
"What?"
He listened.
Then looked at me.
"Boss."
"What?"
"The man who sent the message replied."
My body went still.
"What did he say?"
Marco looked at the phone.
"He sent a location."
"Where?"
He hesitated.
"A private warehouse outside the city."
"When?"
"Tonight."
My mother immediately stood.
"No."
Everyone looked at her.
She shook her head.
"You cannot go there."
"Why?"
Her face turned pale.
"Because that's where your father died."
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
For twelve years, I believed my father died somewhere else.
I believed I knew the place.
The story.
The details.
Everything.
But now I realized the story I was given had holes.
And someone had carefully filled them with lies.
"Who told you he died there?"
My mother didn't answer.
That answer was enough.
I walked toward the window.
The city lights reflected against the glass.
A city where everyone had been playing a role.
A city where my enemies knew more about my life than I did.
A city where my wedding day became the beginning of the investigation instead of the beginning of my marriage.
My phone vibrated.
Another message.
This time, there was a photo attached.
I opened it.
My blood ran cold.
It was my father.
Standing outside the warehouse.
But he wasn't alone.
Someone was beside him.
Someone I recognized.
Someone who had stood beside me during every important moment of my life.
The message underneath the photo appeared.
Ask him why he helped your father disappear.
I looked at Marco.
Because the person standing next to my father in the picture was him.
May you like
And then Marco said the words I never expected to hear.
"Alessandro... there is something your father made me promise never to tell you."
