Chapter 5 - The Son Who Trusted the Wrong Man
The voice came through the phone.
"Son..."
Matteo Vescari dropped the device from his ear.
For the first time in my life, I saw him speechless.
Not silent because he was thinking.
Silent because the world he knew had just collapsed.
Sofia covered her mouth.
Her eyes filled with fear.
Because she knew who was on the other end.
I looked at Matteo.
"Who was that?"
He didn’t answer.
His fingers tightened around the phone.
The call was still connected.
Then the voice spoke again.
Older.
Calm.
Certain.
"Matteo, you always were stubborn."
His face changed.
A lifetime of anger returned in one second.
"Father."
The word left his mouth like a wound.
The room became colder.
I had heard stories about the Vescari family.
Everyone in New York had.
But nobody talked about the man who built the empire before Matteo.
Nobody said his name.
Because people feared him more than they feared his son.
Alessandro Vescari.
Matteo’s father.
The man who was supposed to have died eight years ago.
The man who had disappeared from the public eye after losing control of the family business.
The man who now seemed to know everything happening inside this mansion.
"You found the violin."
Alessandro’s voice came through the speaker.
Matteo looked at the old instrument.
Then at the letters.
"You knew."
A pause.
"I knew you would eventually find it."
Matteo’s expression hardened.
"You knew my mother was alive."
Silence.
A long, painful silence.
And somehow, that silence was an answer.
I felt Sofia step closer.
"Matteo..."
But he raised his hand.
He needed to hear it himself.
"Answer me."
Alessandro sighed.
"Your mother made a choice."
Matteo’s eyes narrowed.
"No."
His voice became colder.
"You made a choice."
Nobody spoke.
The man on the phone laughed quietly.
"You still sound like her."
That sentence changed something.
Matteo stopped.
Because those words weren’t an insult.
They were a memory.
"You were never supposed to find out this way."
Matteo looked around the room.
At the hidden letters.
The forgotten violin.
The secrets buried inside his own home.
"How was I supposed to find out?"
His voice cracked slightly.
"After you buried the truth with her?"
Alessandro didn’t answer.
Then the call ended.
Just like that.
No explanation.
No apology.
Nothing.
Matteo stared at the blank screen.
Then he threw the phone against the wall.
The sound echoed through the room.
I flinched.
Not because I was afraid of him.
Because I saw the pain behind the anger.
A son who had spent twenty-five years mourning a woman who might still be alive.
A son who had built an empire because he believed he had nothing left.
Sofia quietly spoke.
"Matteo."
He turned.
"How much do you know?"
She lowered her eyes.
"Not enough."
"Then start talking."
Sofia looked at me.
I knew immediately.
There was something she didn’t want to say.
Something worse than everything we had already discovered.
"Your mother didn't disappear because of your father."
Matteo froze.
"What?"
"She disappeared because of someone else."
"Who?"
Sofia looked at the letter.
"The person who wanted her gone was not trying to kill her."
She swallowed.
"They wanted her erased."
The words stayed between us.
Matteo walked toward the window.
Outside, the mansion grounds were surrounded by security.
Every entrance was guarded.
Every movement monitored.
Yet somehow, someone had entered his world without permission.
Someone had sent that message.
Someone had been watching.
"Where is my mother now?"
Sofia looked away.
"I don’t know."
Matteo turned sharply.
"You said she was alive."
"I said someone wanted you to believe she was."
The room went silent.
My heart sank.
Because suddenly there was another possibility.
Maybe Isabella Vescari was alive.
Maybe she wasn’t.
Maybe someone was using her name to destroy Matteo.
Then I remembered the picture.
The woman by the window.
The violin.
The message.
Someone knew something.
"Why did my mother give me the violin?" I asked.
Both of them looked at me.
Sofia answered softly.
"Because she trusted you."
"Why?"
"Because she knew Matteo would never listen to anyone from his world."
I looked at Matteo.
That hurt because it was true.
For eleven months, I had been in his house.
He had never asked about my life.
Never asked where I came from.
Never wondered why I always looked at the old music room whenever I walked past it.
I had been invisible.
Until I played that song.
Matteo walked toward me.
"I owe you an apology."
The words surprised me.
A man like Matteo Vescari apologizing felt impossible.
"I treated you like you were part of the furniture."
I looked down.
"Most people here did."
His jaw tightened.
"That changes now."
Before I could respond, a loud noise came from downstairs.
A door slammed.
Then footsteps.
Fast.
Multiple people.
Matteo immediately reached for the weapon hidden beneath his jacket.
The mafia boss returned.
The vulnerable son disappeared.
"Stay behind me."
I wanted to tell him I could protect myself.
But something in his voice stopped me.
He wasn’t ordering me.
He was afraid.
The security team rushed into the hallway.
"Boss!"
Matteo turned.
"What happened?"
One guard looked nervous.
"Someone entered the mansion."
"Impossible."
"We checked the cameras."
The guard swallowed.
"They were turned off."
Matteo’s expression changed.
"How long?"
"Eleven minutes."
The exact amount of time.
Eleven minutes.
The same amount of time I had been working in this mansion.
The same amount of time I had been invisible.
Matteo looked toward me.
And for the first time, I saw suspicion in his eyes.
Not toward me.
Toward the entire house.
"Find them."
The guards moved.
Minutes passed.
Then one returned.
"Boss."
Matteo looked up.
"We found something."
The guard held a small object.
A piece of fabric.
Gray.
My uniform color.
Everyone looked at me.
My heart dropped.
Because it was not just any piece of fabric.
It was torn from my apron.
"I lost that yesterday," I whispered.
Matteo stared at it.
Someone had taken it.
Someone had planted it.
Someone wanted him to believe I was involved.
Before anyone could speak, the guard’s radio crackled.
A voice came through.
"Boss..."
Everyone turned.
The guard looked confused.
"What?"
The voice repeated.
"Boss, we found the person who entered."
Matteo stepped forward.
"Where?"
The guard’s face turned pale.
"Inside the old guest room."
Nobody moved.
Because everyone knew that room.
The room that had remained locked for twenty-five years.
The room that belonged to one person.
Matteo’s mother.
He walked toward the hallway.
Slowly.
Carefully.
His hand reached for the door handle.
May you like
It was already unlocked from the inside.
Someone was waiting for him.
