Lorenzo remained standing.
"Why did you call this meeting?"
Salvatore folded his hands.
"Because rumors are spreading. A girl appears at your estate, makes accusations, and suddenly you begin questioning family history."
"Her name is Elena Varga."
"She is a liar."
"Perhaps."
Salvatore's smile widened.
"Then we're in agreement."
"No. I'm saying perhaps she is lying. Perhaps you are."
The room became silent.
Carlo Benedetti lowered his eyes.
Salvatore leaned back.
"You have always been too much like your father."
"Is that supposed to be an insult?"
"Your father believed every person deserved protection. He forgot that some people only understand power."
Lorenzo approached the table.
"Did you know Isabella Varga?"
Salvatore did not answer.
"Did you know she was keeping copies of the accounts?"
"She was an employee."
"Did you know my mother had written a letter asking my father to protect her daughter?"
Salvatore's expression tightened.
"Your mother was sentimental."
"Did you arrange Isabella's death?"
The question landed heavily.
One of the lawyers shifted in his chair.
Salvatore slowly stood.
"Be careful."
Lorenzo looked at him.
"I've spent fifteen years being careful."
"You inherited a family that was already at war. I kept it together while you played businessman."
"And how many people did you bury to keep it together?"
Salvatore stepped closer.
"Your father would have been disappointed in you."
Lorenzo's voice remained calm.
"My father was disappointed in you long before he died."
Salvatore's face changed.
For the first time, his composure cracked.
He glanced toward Carlo.
The old man looked away.
Lorenzo noticed.
"Carlo."
The elderly adviser lifted his head.
"Yes?"
"Tell me what happened to Isabella Varga."
Salvatore struck the table.
"That is enough!"
Carlo remained silent.
Lorenzo waited.
Finally, the old man spoke.
"Your father discovered that Salvatore had been moving money through companies controlled by outside partners. The money was supposed to fund legitimate businesses. Instead, it was being used to finance a private arrangement with a rival organization."
Salvatore's face turned pale.
Carlo continued.
"Isabella found the records. She gave them to your mother. Your mother told Vittorio."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"What happened next?"
"Your father confronted his brother."
"And Isabella?"
Carlo looked down.
"She was supposed to leave the city."
"Supposed to?"
"She never made it."
Salvatore laughed bitterly.
"An old man's imagination."
Carlo continued.
"She was killed on the road outside the city. The police were told it was an accident."
Lorenzo stared at his uncle.
"Did you order it?"
Salvatore said nothing.
That silence was enough to change the room.
Lorenzo turned to the lawyers.
"Meeting over."
Salvatore stepped around the table.
"You cannot do this."
"I just did."
"You think the family will follow you after this?"
Lorenzo stopped at the door.
"No."
He turned.
"I think they'll follow the truth."
***
Outside, Elena sat in the back of the black car.
She watched the front entrance.
A light rain had begun to fall.
The driver was Matteo's trusted security officer, a quiet man named Enzo.
He had not spoken since they arrived.
Elena looked at her phone.
There was a message from an unknown number.
STOP SEARCHING.
She read it twice.
Then another message arrived.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOUR MOTHER STOLE.
Her fingers tightened around the device.
She looked toward the residence.
A side door opened.
A man emerged.
He wore a dark coat and walked quickly toward a parked vehicle.
Elena recognized him.
Salvatore's personal driver.
He glanced toward the car.
Their eyes met.
He immediately turned away.
Elena leaned forward.
"Enzo."
"Yes?"
"Do you know that man?"
The driver looked in the mirror.
"Which one?"
"The man leaving the side entrance."
Enzo's expression changed.
"Stay inside."
He reached for his radio.
The man outside began running.
Then the first explosion shook the residence.
The windows flashed white.
Elena screamed.
Enzo pushed her down behind the seat as another blast shattered the glass.
People shouted.
Car alarms erupted.
The main entrance filled with smoke.
Lorenzo appeared in the doorway.
Matteo was beside him.
They were moving toward the car.
"Get them out!" Lorenzo shouted.
Enzo started the engine.
But the vehicle did not move.
The tires had been damaged.
Lorenzo reached the car and pulled open the rear door.
"Elena!"
She looked up.
His face was covered in dust.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Get out."
He helped her onto the road.
A second vehicle approached from the darkness.
Matteo raised his arm.
"Down!"
The sound of gunfire split the night.
Lorenzo pushed Elena behind the stone wall.
The security team returned fire.
For several seconds, everything became noise and movement.
Then the approaching vehicle reversed and disappeared down the road.
Lorenzo looked at Elena.
"Did you receive any messages?"
She hesitated.
"Yes."
"What messages?"
She showed him the phone.
He read them.
His expression became unreadable.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know who sent them."
"Now we do."
He looked toward the road.
"Someone knew you were here."
Elena stared at the burning residence.
"Your uncle?"
Lorenzo did not answer.
But he did not need to.