And his father had been there.
***
The following morning, Alessandro summoned Adrian Vescari.
He chose the family restaurant overlooking the harbor.
It was a beautiful place, with white tablecloths, crystal glasses, and an enormous chandelier made from Venetian glass.
The restaurant had been closed to the public.
Only four men occupied the room.
Alessandro sat at the head of the table.
Adrian arrived at eleven.
He wore a charcoal suit and a silver watch.
His hair was carefully styled. His smile was polished.
"Alessandro."
"Sit."
Adrian took the chair opposite him.
"I heard about the attack. Terrible business."
"Yes."
"Any idea who was responsible?"
"Not yet."
Adrian nodded.
"These things happen when people become careless."
Alessandro poured himself water.
"Do you know what this is?"
He placed the silver cufflink on the table.
Adrian looked at it.
His expression barely changed.
"Looks familiar."
"It should."
"Why?"
"One of your men was wearing it last night."
Adrian leaned back.
"Then perhaps you should ask him."
"He is dead."
"Unfortunate."
Alessandro studied him.
"Did you send him?"
Adrian smiled.
"Would I be foolish enough to attack your home?"
"People do foolish things when they believe they are about to lose something."
Adrian's smile disappeared.
"What are you suggesting?"
Alessandro opened a folder.
Inside were copies of financial transactions from the notebook.
"Your uncle stole from my family."
Adrian looked down.
"That was a long time ago."
"Your companies received money from those accounts until last month."
"Business arrangements."
"Fraud."
"Careful."
Alessandro raised his eyes.
"You're warning me?"
"I'm reminding you that your father built this organization with men who understood compromise."
"My father is dead."
"Yes. And your mother is dead."
The words were delivered casually.
But Alessandro felt the room change.
He slowly placed his glass down.
"Say that again."
Adrian tilted his head.
"Your mother. Isabella. A beautiful woman. A difficult woman, from what I heard."
Alessandro stood.
"Don't speak about her."
Adrian looked up.
"Why? Is she still a sensitive subject?"
Alessandro leaned over the table.
"She was murdered."
Adrian's expression became almost sympathetic.
"That's a serious accusation."
"I have the evidence."
"Do you?"
"Yes."
Adrian looked toward the windows.
Then he smiled.
"Then I suppose your father failed to destroy everything."
Alessandro became still.
There it was.
Not a confession.
Not enough for a court.
But enough to confirm that Adrian knew something.
"Tell me what happened that night."
Adrian stood.
"Ask your father."
"He can't answer."
"Then perhaps you should have asked him before he died."
Alessandro stepped around the table.
Adrian remained where he was.
"Your uncle was a parasite," Alessandro said. "He believed the family belonged to him."
"Your father believed the same."
"My father was wrong."
Adrian's smile faded.
"And what do you believe?"
Alessandro looked at him.
"That you have made a mistake."
Adrian adjusted his jacket.
"Be careful, Alessandro. There are things buried beneath this family that you cannot afford to uncover."
"Then why are you afraid of me finding them?"
For the first time, Adrian had no immediate answer.
He turned toward the exit.
"Enjoy your lunch."
Alessandro watched him leave.
Then he picked up the cufflink.
He had expected a denial.
Instead, Adrian had given him something much more valuable.
Fear.
***
That evening, Alessandro sat beside Sofia in the garden.
She was drawing a house.
It had a blue roof, three windows, and a large golden sun.
"Who's this?" he asked, pointing to a small figure beside the door.
"Grandma."
Alessandro studied the drawing.
"Why does Grandma live here?"
"Because she wants to come home."
He looked toward the mansion.
"She lived here a long time ago."
"I know."
"Do you miss her?"
Sofia nodded.
Alessandro put his arm around her.
"Do you remember what she told you?"
The girl thought for a moment.
"She said I had to be brave."
"Anything else?"
"She said Daddy was sad."
Alessandro looked away.
Sofia leaned against him.
"Are you sad?"
He considered lying.
Then he decided not to.
"Yes."
"Because Grandma died?"
"Partly."
"Can I make you happy?"
He looked down at her.
"You already do."
She smiled.
Then she returned to her drawing.
Alessandro watched her for several minutes.
He had spent years building walls around his life.
He had convinced himself that distance was protection.
That if he loved fewer people, fewer people could be used against him.
But Sofia had changed everything.
She was the one person who could make him forget the empire outside the garden.
And now that empire had become a threat to her.
He would not allow history to repeat itself.
***
Three days later, Elena disappeared.
Her bedroom was empty.
The window was open.
A cup of tea remained on the bedside table.
The guards outside her room claimed they had heard nothing.
Alessandro examined the room himself.
On the pillow lay a small piece of paper.
Three words.
Stop looking.
He read them twice.
Then he called Marco.
"Where is Elena?"
"I don't know."
"Find her."
"Already searching."
"How long?"
"Since dawn."
Alessandro looked at the open window.
"Who was assigned to her security?"
"Two men."