Chapter 6 - The Mafia Boss Against His Own Bloodline
The old library had never felt like my father’s room before.
Not until someone broke into it.
Before that night, the library had been nothing more than a place filled with memories I avoided.
The old leather chairs.
The shelves of books nobody touched.
The desk where my father spent countless hours building the Duca empire.
A room frozen in time.
But now it was a crime scene.
The moment I entered, I knew something was wrong.
Not because anything looked destroyed.
Because nothing did.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The door was unlocked.
The shelves were untouched.
The furniture remained exactly where it had always been.
Whoever entered did not search the room.
They knew exactly what they wanted.
Jonah stood beside the desk.
His expression was enough.
"What happened?"
He turned toward me.
"They took the drive."
"I know that."
"No."
His voice was lower.
"They didn't just take the drive."
I walked closer.
"What else?"
Jonah pointed toward the desk.
"The person who entered left something behind."
On my father's desk was a single envelope.
Old.
Yellowed.
My name written across the front.
Alessandro.
My hands stopped.
For a moment, I couldn't move.
Because I knew that handwriting.
I had seen it thousands of times as a child.
Letters.
Birthday cards.
Notes left on the kitchen table.
My father's handwriting.
"This wasn't here before," Jonah said.
I didn't answer.
I picked up the envelope.
The paper was old.
The seal had already been broken.
Inside was one page.
Only one.
I unfolded it.
And read.
Alessandro,
If you are reading this, then Daniel was right.
The truth survived.
I stared at the words.
My heart slowed.
Not because I was calm.
Because something inside me had gone completely still.
Daniel was right.
My father knew.
He knew something was wrong.
He knew Daniel was investigating.
He knew the danger.
And he never told me.
The letter continued.
I made mistakes as a father.
I believed protecting my family meant keeping them away from the darkness.
I was wrong.
Sometimes the darkness finds its way inside.
My grip tightened.
Jonah watched silently.
My father had always been a man of control.
A man who believed emotions were weaknesses.
A man who taught me that fear was something enemies could smell.
But this letter sounded different.
This sounded like a man who knew he had failed.
The next line made my breathing stop.
Trust Daniel's judgment.
Not mine.
Not the family's.
Daniel's.
I folded the letter.
"Where is the rest?"
Jonah looked confused.
"What?"
"There should be more."
He checked the desk.
Nothing.
I looked around the room.
My father had never written anything without a purpose.
Every word had a reason.
Every action had a plan.
This was not a letter.
It was a message.
A piece of something bigger.
"Alessandro."
Jonah's voice changed.
I looked at him.
"Security footage."
"What about it?"
"We recovered a backup."
I followed him to the monitor.
The footage showed the library hallway.
Timestamp.
2:13 a.m.
A figure appeared.
Black clothing.
Face covered.
Moving carefully.
Not like a thief.
Like someone who belonged there.
The person stopped outside the library.
Looked directly at the camera.
Then smiled.
I froze.
Because before disabling the system...
The person wanted us to see that they knew the camera existed.
"They weren't hiding," Jonah said.
"No."
I watched the figure enter.
"They wanted me to know."
The person stayed inside for less than three minutes.
Then left.
No panic.
No hesitation.
A professional.
Someone confident enough to walk into my home.
Someone confident enough to steal evidence from the Duca family.
"Enhance the image."
Jonah tried.
The face remained hidden.
But something appeared.
A ring.
On the person's right hand.
A black stone ring with a silver symbol.
I stared.
I knew that symbol.
Not from business.
Not from family.
From Daniel's investigation files.
I opened the folder from the hidden drive backup.
The one Jonah had managed to copy before the original disappeared.
A photograph appeared.
A close-up of documents.
And beside them...
The same symbol.
My blood went cold.
"The man behind the shadows."
Jonah looked at me.
"What?"
I looked at the screen.
"The symbol."
I pointed.
"Sophia mentioned it."
Jonah understood.
"Daniel found it."
I nodded.
"Who uses it?"
Jonah searched through the files.
After several seconds, he stopped.
His expression changed.
"Alessandro."
"What?"
He turned the screen toward me.
A company profile.
A private organization.
No public records.
No official ownership.
Only one name appeared.
The founder.
Victor Hale.
I frowned.
The name meant nothing.
And that bothered me.
People who controlled powerful things usually left traces.
Unless they were very good at hiding.
"Who is Victor Hale?"
Jonah continued searching.
Then stopped.
"Someone who disappeared twelve years ago."
"Disappeared?"
"Officially dead."
I looked at him.
"Officially?"
Jonah nodded.
"There are no confirmed records."
I looked back at the screen.
Someone who didn't exist.
Someone who controlled money.
Someone connected to my uncle.
Someone Daniel died investigating.
The pieces were finally moving.
And I hated where they were leading.
Marco Duca arrived at the estate before noon.
I expected anger.
I expected questions.
Instead, he walked into my office calmly.
That worried me more.
My uncle had always been a man who controlled every emotion.
A skill he admired in me.
A skill I now realized he might have taught me because he needed someone like himself.
"Alessandro."
He hugged me.
I did not return it.
His smile faded slightly.
"I heard about the break-in."
"Did you?"
His eyes narrowed.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you seem very informed."
He sat down.
"Your fiancée told me you were upset."
Of course.
Vivian.
I looked at him.
"My fiancée also told you about the situation?"
Marco sighed.
"You are becoming suspicious of everyone."
"No."
I walked toward the window.
"I am becoming suspicious of the people who deserve it."
Silence.
Then Marco laughed softly.
"You sound like Daniel."
That was the wrong thing to say.
I turned.
"Do not say his name."
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
A reaction.
Pain?
Fear?
Guilt?
I couldn't tell.
"Alessandro."
"No."
I stepped closer.
"You were at his funeral."
"Yes."
"You told me his death was an accident."
"Because it was."
"Was it?"
The room became silent.
For the first time in my life, my uncle looked uncomfortable around me.
"I know you are grieving."
"Seven years?"
"Grief does not have a schedule."
I almost smiled.
A perfect answer.
A rehearsed answer.
"I found something."
His face remained calm.
"What?"
"My brother's evidence."
A pause.
Small.
Almost invisible.
But there.
"You found nothing."
I stared at him.
Interesting.
Not:
"What evidence?"
Not:
"What are you talking about?"
You found nothing.
He already knew.
"How do you know what I found?"
Marco said nothing.
And that silence was the answer.
I stepped back.
"Leave."
His face hardened.
"Alessandro."
"Leave my house."
"This is family."
I looked at him.
"No."
My voice was quiet.
"This is exactly the problem."
He stood.
"You think everyone around you is your enemy."
I watched him walk toward the door.
Before leaving, he stopped.
"Your father made the same mistake."
I froze.
"What mistake?"
Marco looked back.
"Trusting the wrong people."
Then he left.
That night, Emma knocked on my office door.
Not like before.
This time, the guards had announced her.
She walked inside holding her teddy bear.
"Are you sad?"
I looked at her.
Children always noticed what adults ignored.
"I'm thinking."
She climbed onto the chair across from me.
"Mommy thinks too much too."
I almost smiled.
"Does she?"
Emma nodded.
"When Mommy is scared, she counts."
"Counts what?"
"Things."
"What things?"
She held up her fingers.
"Doors."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"She says doors are important."
The words seemed simple.
But something about them bothered me.
"Did your mother teach you that?"
Emma nodded.
"She says if bad people come, you need to know where to go."
I looked toward the office door.
Sophia had been preparing.
Not just collecting evidence.
Preparing for danger.
Preparing Emma.
I looked at the child in front of me.
A child who had unknowingly brought my brother's secret back into my life.
A child whose mother had risked everything to reveal the truth.
And I finally understood.
This was no longer about Daniel.
Not only about him.
It was about every person who had been hurt because powerful people believed they could hide forever.
I picked up my phone.
Called Jonah.
"Find Victor Hale."
A pause.
"Alessandro..."
"Everything."
I looked out at the dark estate.
"Find out who he is."
I ended the call.
Because for seven years, my family had protected a lie.
May you like
Now I was going to destroy it.
Even if the person standing behind that lie shared my blood.
