Chapter 8 - The Enemy at Matteo’s Table
Tessa wanted to go.
Matteo refused.
They argued for twenty minutes.
“You don’t own me.”
“No.”
“You don’t control me.”
“No.”
“Then stop ordering me around.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“So was my mother. Look how much truth that cost her.”
Matteo fell silent.
Finally, they compromised.
Tessa would enter Bellaforte carrying a copy of the ledger.
Frank would position men outside.
Matteo would remain unseen.
At midnight, Bellaforte was empty.
One table had been set.
Salvatore Moretti sat alone.
Tessa stopped ten feet away.
He looked older than his photograph but unmistakable.
“Teresa.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Anna did.”
“You don’t get to use her memories.”
A faint smile.
“You have her temper.”
“Where’s Jenna?”
“Safe.”
“Prove it.”
Salvatore showed a live camera feed.
Jenna sat inside a parked car with one of Frank’s men.
Tessa frowned.
“She was never kidnapped.”
“No.”
“You used her to bring me here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my son doesn’t listen.”
Matteo stepped from the shadows.
“I heard that.”
Salvatore’s smile vanished.
Father and son stared at each other across the restaurant.
Twenty-four years of lies sat between them.
“You let me bury you,” Matteo said.
“I let you become strong.”
“You let me become you.”
Salvatore looked almost wounded.
“That was never what I wanted.”
“Then you failed.”
Tessa placed the ledger on the table.
“Gabriel Vieri.”
Salvatore’s eyes moved to her.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Tessa laughed bitterly.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. I expect you to learn that certainty is expensive.”
Matteo slammed his palm onto the table.
“Enough riddles.”
Salvatore looked at him.
“Gabriel didn’t merely use our docks. He built a network using judges, police and companies. When Sofia discovered it, I tried to destroy him quietly.”
“You failed.”
“Yes.”
“Why fake your death?”
“Because Gabriel needed to believe the Moretti organization had passed to someone he could manipulate.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
Matteo’s face hardened.
“You used me as bait.”
“I kept you alive.”
“You keep saying that as though it excuses everything.”
Salvatore lowered his eyes.
For the first time, he looked old.
Tessa asked the question that mattered.
“Where is Sofia?”
Salvatore looked toward her.
“Alive.”
Matteo stopped breathing.
“Where?”
Before Salvatore answered, every light in Bellaforte went out.
Frank’s voice erupted through Matteo’s earpiece.
“Movement outside.”
Glass shattered.
Men entered through the kitchen.
Matteo pulled Tessa behind the bar.
Gunfire erupted.
When emergency lights flickered on, Salvatore’s chair was empty.
So was the ledger.
But someone remained seated at Matteo’s usual booth.
A woman.
Late forties.
Dark hair streaked with gray.
She slowly stood.
Matteo stared at her.
“Sofia?”
May you like
The woman looked at him.
Then she said the childhood nickname nobody outside his family had known.
