Behind them stood Salvatore D'Angelo.
Adrian picked it up.
"What is this?"
"Your father and Daniel were not simply working together."
Vittorio returned to his chair.
"They were preparing to leave."
Adrian looked at him.
"Leave what?"
"The organization. They wanted to take the financial records and expose everything."
"Why?"
"Because your father had fallen in love with the idea of becoming a legitimate businessman."
Adrian's face hardened.
"That was his right."
"Perhaps. But he had made too many enemies."
Vittorio leaned back.
"Salvatore wanted the records. I wanted the organization to remain intact. We agreed that Lorenzo had become a liability."
"Who arranged the accident?"
Vittorio looked at him.
"Salvatore."
"And you approved it."
"Yes."
Adrian's fingers tightened around the photograph.
"What happened to Daniel?"
Vittorio looked at the notebook.
"He discovered the truth. He tried to protect the documents. Salvatore wanted him dead too."
"But he died of a heart attack."
"That's what the records say."
Adrian stared at his uncle.
"Did you know?"
Vittorio said nothing.
"Did you know Daniel was killed?"
Vittorio finally nodded.
The room became silent.
Marco looked away.
Enzo lowered his head.
Adrian felt something inside him become very still.
Two fathers.
Two deaths.
One conspiracy.
And the man who had raised him had known all along.
***
That night, Adrian did something the Moretti family had never expected.
He did not order Vittorio killed.
He did not have him dragged into the basement.
He did not announce a succession crisis.
Instead, he summoned every captain, every adviser, and every senior member of the organization.
The meeting began at midnight.
Vittorio sat at the far end of the table.
He was no longer treated as the second most powerful man in the room.
He was being questioned.
Adrian placed the documents in front of everyone.
Then he played the recording recovered from the Bellgrave Hotel.
The bald man's voice filled the room.
"Your father was a very careful man."
The recording continued.
"Unfortunately, he understood things he shouldn't have."
Adrian stopped it.
He placed Daniel's letter on the table.
Then the photograph.
Then the notebook.
No one spoke.
Vittorio looked around the room.
"These documents prove nothing."
Adrian stood.
"They prove you lied."
"They prove nothing about what happened fifteen years ago."
"They prove you approved payments to the men who killed my father."
Vittorio's expression hardened.
"Your father was not an innocent man."
"No one said he was."
"He was involved in everything we built."
"Yes."
"He knew what kind of family this was."
"Yes."
"Then why are you pretending he was a victim?"
Adrian leaned forward.
"Because being part of this family did not give you the right to murder him."
Vittorio laughed.
"You're going to destroy the organization over a dead man?"
Adrian looked around the room.
"No."
He paused.
"I'm going to stop pretending the organization is more important than the people who built it."
A senior captain cleared his throat.
"What do you intend to do?"
Adrian looked at him.
"The financial records will be turned over to the authorities. Every account connected to the murders will be investigated. Every person who participated will answer for what they did."
Vittorio stood.
"You cannot do that."
"I can."
"You will destroy the Moretti name."
Adrian looked at him.
"Perhaps it deserves to be destroyed."
Several men exchanged glances.
Marco remained motionless.
Enzo stood behind Adrian.
Vittorio turned toward the captains.
"Are you all going to sit here and allow this?"
No one answered.
He pointed at Marco.
"You have been beside him for years. Tell him what happens when a leader abandons his own people."
Marco looked at Adrian.
Then at Vittorio.
Finally, he spoke.
"Perhaps it's time we stopped confusing loyalty with obedience."
Vittorio's face darkened.
He looked around the table.
No one stood.
For the first time in his life, Vittorio Moretti had entered a room expecting everyone to follow him.
And discovered that nobody was willing to do so.
***
Salvatore D'Angelo received the news at his private residence shortly after one in the morning.
He was sitting in a leather armchair, watching the city through enormous windows.
A young assistant entered.
"Mr. D'Angelo."
"What?"
"Vittorio has been exposed."
Salvatore turned.
"By whom?"
"Adrian."
The older man smiled faintly.
"I see."
"He has the documents."
Salvatore's smile disappeared.
"All of them?"
"We believe so."
Salvatore stood.
"Then we have a problem."
He walked toward a cabinet and opened it.