Lorenzo closed the folder.
"Bring him here."
"Tonight?"
"Now."
Marco hesitated.
"There's something else."
Lorenzo looked at him.
"Go on."
"Dominic has been meeting with Salvatore Caruso."
Lorenzo slowly stood.
The Carusos.
The family that had spent months attacking his businesses.
The family that had burned his warehouse and disrupted his operations.
Suddenly, the pieces began to form a different picture.
Perhaps the war had never been about territory.
Perhaps it had been designed to keep him distracted.
While he fought his enemies, someone inside his own house had been rewriting the past.
"Get the men," Lorenzo said.
Marco nodded.
"Alive?"
Lorenzo looked toward the window.
"Alive."
It was not mercy.
It was the only way to hear the truth.
At four in the morning, Dominic Rizzo entered the Moretti estate.
He was wearing a charcoal suit and carrying the same leather briefcase he had used for years.
He looked irritated.
Not frightened.
That worried Lorenzo more than anything.
"What's this about?"
Lorenzo sat behind his desk.
"Elena."
Dominic's expression did not change.
"What about her?"
"Tell me about the accident."
Dominic placed his briefcase on the floor.
"Terrible tragedy."
"Was it?"
"Of course."
"Did you know she was planning to leave?"
Dominic looked at him.
"Everyone knew."
"Who helped her?"
"Nobody."
Lorenzo opened a folder.
"Adrian Voss received payments through one of your companies."
Dominic smiled faintly.
"Then you should speak to Adrian."
"I intend to."
"Good."
Lorenzo leaned forward.
"Did you know Isabella before she met me?"
The older man said nothing.
That was enough.
Lorenzo closed the folder.
"How long?"
Dominic looked toward the window.
Then he sighed.
"Your father always said you were too sentimental."
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
"Don't speak about my father."
"He would have understood."
"Understood what?"
"That Elena was dangerous."
Lorenzo slowly rose.
Dominic continued.
"She had documents. She knew things. She was preparing to go to the authorities."
"So you killed her?"
Dominic looked directly at him.
"I protected the family."
The sentence was spoken without emotion.
It was the kind of sentence men used when they had convinced themselves that their crimes were sacrifices.
Lorenzo walked around the desk.
"Who ordered it?"
Dominic's face tightened.
"You know how this works."
"Who?"
"Your father."
Lorenzo stopped.
The room became silent.
Dominic looked at him.
"Vittorio knew Elena was planning to take Daniel away. He believed she would destroy everything your family had built. He gave the order."
Lorenzo felt something inside him collapse.
"My father was dead."
"Before the accident."
Lorenzo stared at him.
"How long had he known?"
"Months."
"Did Elena know?"
Dominic nodded.
"She found out shortly before she died."
Lorenzo looked at the old photograph on his desk.
For years, he had blamed himself.
He had believed he had failed Elena because he was absent, distracted, and too deeply involved in his father's world.
Now he learned that the man who had taught him everything had arranged the destruction of the woman he loved.
"Why Isabella?"
Dominic gave a tired smile.
"She wanted power."
"That's not an answer."
"She approached me. She knew Elena was planning to leave. She offered to help."
"Help how?"
"She gave us information. Her schedule. Her plans. The route she intended to take."
Lorenzo's face became expressionless.
"Did she know about the order?"
Dominic hesitated.
"Yes."
"And Adrian?"
"He handled the arrangements."
Lorenzo turned away.
For several seconds, he looked at the dark garden beyond the window.
Then he asked the question he had been avoiding.
"Did my father know Daniel was in the car?"
Dominic looked down.
"No."
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
"Elena was alone."
"Yes."
"She died alone."
Dominic did not answer.
Lorenzo turned back.
"Get him out of my house."
Marco moved immediately.
Two guards entered.
Dominic did not resist.
As they escorted him away, he looked over his shoulder.
"You're making a mistake, Lorenzo."
Lorenzo said nothing.
"Your father built this family. He understood what it required."
Lorenzo walked toward the desk.
Dominic's voice grew louder.
"Without men like him, you would have nothing!"
Lorenzo stopped.
Then he spoke.
"Without men like him, I might have had a family."
The guards took Dominic away.
At sunrise, Lorenzo went to the cemetery.
He brought white roses.
Daniel walked beside him, holding his father's hand.
The grave was beneath a large oak tree overlooking a quiet stretch of land.
Elena's name was engraved on the stone.
Her photograph had been placed in a small frame beside the flowers.
Daniel knelt first.
"Hi, Mommy."
Lorenzo stood behind him.
The boy placed a folded drawing beside the grave.
It showed the three figures standing together.
Then he looked up.
"I told Daddy."
Lorenzo lowered himself beside his son.
"Your mother would be proud of you."
Daniel looked at the gravestone.
"Do you think she knows?"
Lorenzo hesitated.
"I hope so."
Daniel reached for his father's hand.
"Are we going to be okay?"
Lorenzo looked at the flowers.
Then at the boy.
"Yes."
He did not know whether it was true.
But he intended to make it true.
By noon, Isabella had disappeared.