"Did you hurt her?"
"I warned her."
"Did you hurt her?"
Vincent looked away.
"She was frightened. She left."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Alessandro slowly sat down.
He had spent his life believing that the world was divided into two groups.
People who were loyal.
And people who were enemies.
Now he was beginning to understand that the most dangerous people had been sitting at his table.
***
Matteo brought Elena to a private apartment in Manhattan.
It belonged to the family but was not listed under any Moretti company.
The building had private security, reinforced doors, and cameras covering every entrance.
Elena refused to go into the bedroom.
She remained in the living room, sitting on a leather sofa with her coat still on.
Matteo placed a glass of water on the table.
"You should rest."
"I can't."
"I understand."
"No, you don't."
He sat opposite her.
She looked at him.
"Do you know what it feels like to spend your childhood wondering whether your father abandoned you?"
Matteo did not answer.
"Every birthday, my mother told me he loved me. Every Christmas, she told me he would have wanted to see me happy. When I was old enough to understand what death meant, she told me he was gone."
Elena's eyes became wet.
"But she never told me how."
Matteo looked down.
"She wanted to protect you."
"From what?"
"From us."
Elena laughed bitterly.
"That didn't work."
"No."
Silence settled between them.
Then Matteo spoke.
"My mother died when I was twenty-four. Cancer. She was ill for almost a year."
Elena looked at him.
"Did your father stay with her?"
"At the beginning. Then he started spending more time outside the house. Business meetings. Security problems. Things that apparently couldn't wait."
"And you?"
"I was angry with him."
"Why?"
"Because I thought he was afraid of losing the organization more than he was afraid of losing his wife."
Elena stared at him.
"Perhaps he was."
Matteo accepted the possibility.
"My mother knew more than she told me."
"Did she ever mention Sofia?"
"No."
"Did she know my mother?"
"I think so."
Elena looked toward the window.
"Your family has too many dead women and too many men who think they have the right to decide what happens to them."
Matteo did not defend himself.
Instead, he said something that surprised her.
"I want to leave."
She looked back.
"Leave what?"
"The organization."
Elena studied him.
"Why?"
"Because I have spent thirty-two years preparing to inherit something I no longer want."
"That sounds convenient."
"It isn't."
"Your father will never allow it."
"I know."
"And what will happen to the people who depend on your family?"
Matteo looked at her.
"That's the question I haven't answered."
Elena shook her head.
"You're not going to become a good man because you decide to stop being a bad one."
"I know."
"Then what are you going to do?"
He looked at the letter from his mother.
"Find the truth."
***
The following morning, Alessandro summoned the family's senior members.
The meeting took place in the estate's main dining room.
Eight men sat around a long mahogany table.
Some had served the family for decades.
Others had inherited their positions from fathers and uncles.
They were accustomed to seeing Alessandro speak.
They were not accustomed to seeing him ask questions.
Vincent was brought into the room under guard.
His wrists were restrained.
Carlo placed a folder in front of Alessandro.
The old man opened it.
Inside were financial records, photographs, and copies of telephone transcripts.
"Twenty years ago," Alessandro began, "my brother was murdered."
Nobody moved.
"I blamed the Bellandi family. I ordered retaliation. I destroyed businesses. I buried men. I told myself that every decision was justified because I was protecting my blood."
He looked around the table.
"But the man responsible was sitting beside me."
His gaze moved toward Vincent.
"Vincent Bellini arranged Lorenzo's murder. He framed Daniel Rossi. He concealed evidence. He used this organization to protect himself."
One of the older associates shifted in his chair.
"Boss, are you certain?"
Alessandro looked at him.
"I have a recording."
He placed the digital device on the table.
Daniel's voice filled the room.
The men listened without interruption.
When the recording ended, Alessandro looked toward the man who had questioned him.
"Do you still have doubts?"
The associate lowered his eyes.
Alessandro continued.
"There is another matter. Daniel was not the only person who knew the truth."
He placed the financial records on the table.
"My wife sent money to Elena Rossi for years. She knew the girl was alive. She knew what happened to her father."
A murmur passed around the room.
Matteo entered.
He carried a sealed envelope.
"My mother left this for me."
He placed it beside the recorder.
Alessandro looked at his son.
"Open it."
Matteo removed a folded document.
It was a letter.
This time, it was not addressed to him.
It was addressed to Alessandro.
He began reading.
My husband,
If you are reading this, then the truth has finally reached you.
I have carried this secret for twenty years.
I did not tell you about Elena because I knew what you would do. You would search for her. You would bring her into this house. You would tell yourself that protecting her would somehow repair what happened.