"Money disappeared. Men were abandoned. Witnesses were silenced. And eventually, your father discovered that the person he had trusted most had become more powerful than he was."
Alessandro looked toward Elena.
She was crying silently.
His mother's voice continued.
"I tried to persuade Vittorio to go to the authorities. He refused. He said that if the truth became public, the family would be destroyed."
A soft crackling sound interrupted the recording.
Then Isabella spoke again.
"I was afraid, Alessandro. Not of dying. I was afraid that one day you would inherit everything your father had built and believe that you had inherited something honorable."
Alessandro's fingers tightened around the recorder.
"Your father made a decision. He agreed to allow Salvatore to remain in control of certain operations until the evidence could be destroyed. He believed he was buying time."
The recording stopped briefly.
When Isabella spoke again, her voice had changed.
"Someone has been inside this house. Someone knows I have the documents."
Alessandro leaned forward.
"If anything happens to me, do not assume that it was an accident."
The tape ended.
For a long time, nobody moved.
Then Alessandro turned to Elena.
"Who killed her?"
The old woman shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Who was in the house that night?"
"Your father. Salvatore. Me. And two guards."
"Names."
"One was Carlo Ferraro. The other was..."
She hesitated.
"Who?"
"Marco Bellini."
The room became perfectly silent.
Alessandro looked toward the door.
Marco had been nineteen years old when Isabella died.
He had been assigned to the estate security team.
And for twelve years, he had stood beside Alessandro.
Alessandro placed the recorder on the table.
"Bring him to me."
***
Marco arrived fifteen minutes later.
He entered the room alone.
His eyes moved toward the open compartment, the notebook, and the recorder.
Then he looked at Alessandro.
"Boss."
Alessandro stood beside the portrait.
"Do you remember the night my mother died?"
Marco's expression did not change.
"Of course."
"Where were you?"
"Outside her bedroom."
"Who gave you that assignment?"
"Salvatore."
Alessandro walked toward him.
"Did you hear anything?"
"Some shouting."
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"Why?"
Marco looked at him.
"Because I was nineteen, and I was told that the family was handling a private matter."
Alessandro stopped.
"Did you see my mother that night?"
Marco's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
"Was she alive?"
The question hung between them.
Marco looked at the portrait.
"Yes."
Alessandro felt his stomach tighten.
"What time?"
"Just after midnight."
"How was she?"
"Frightened."
"Did she say anything?"
Marco hesitated.
"She asked me to help her."
Alessandro stared at him.
"And?"
"I didn't."
"Why?"
"Salvatore had a gun."
Alessandro's voice became quieter.
"Was he threatening you?"
"No."
"Then what?"
Marco looked directly at him.
"He was threatening you."
The answer struck with terrible precision.
Marco continued.
"He told me that if I opened that door, you would die before sunrise. He said your father had already agreed to let him handle the situation."
Alessandro's expression remained controlled.
"Did you believe him?"
"I was nineteen."
"That wasn't my question."
Marco swallowed.
"Yes."
"Did you know what he intended to do?"
"I knew he wanted the documents."
"Did you know my mother would die?"
Marco lowered his eyes.
"No."
Alessandro turned away.
He walked to the window.
Outside, the garden lights illuminated the fountains.
Sofia's bedroom window glowed on the upper floor.
He could see the shadow of her small figure moving behind the curtains.
When he spoke again, his voice was almost gentle.
"You stood beside me at her funeral."
"Yes."
"You told me that she had suffered."
Marco said nothing.
"You told me that there was nothing anyone could have done."
"I was ashamed."
"Yet you stayed."
"I thought I could protect you."
Alessandro turned.
"From what?"
"From becoming your father."
The words landed heavily.
Marco took a breath.
"I knew what Salvatore had done. I knew the documents existed. I also knew that if you discovered the truth while your father was alive, he would never allow you to survive it."
Alessandro stared at him.
"And after my father died?"
"I tried to find the evidence."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was afraid you would destroy everything."
Alessandro gave a humorless smile.
"You were afraid of what I might do?"
"Yes."
"More than you were afraid of what had already been done?"
Marco did not answer.
Alessandro picked up the notebook.
"Did you know about the money?"
"Yes."
"Did you know about the companies?"
"Some."
"Did you know Adrian Vescari was still receiving payments?"
Marco's eyes shifted.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But Alessandro saw it.
"Marco."
The adviser looked up.
"How much do you know?"
Before he could answer, the lights went out.
A single gunshot echoed through the estate.
Then another.
Marco moved immediately.
He grabbed Alessandro and pushed him behind the heavy desk as glass shattered near the window.
"Down!"
Alessandro reached for his weapon.
"Where's Sofia?"
"Upstairs."
A guard shouted from the corridor.
"Boss! Intruders!"
Marco pulled Alessandro toward the private passage.
"Get to the safe room."
"Find my daughter."
"I will."
"Marco!"
The adviser stopped.