Carlo stood near the door.
"Boss?"
Alessandro looked at the letters.
"Bring them to Elena."
***
Elena received the box on a Thursday afternoon.
She did not open it immediately.
She recognized her father's handwriting from the photograph.
She sat on the floor and removed the first envelope.
Then the second.
Then the third.
By the time she reached the final letter, the room was filled with open envelopes.
She cried without trying to stop herself.
Her father had not abandoned her.
He had not forgotten her.
He had not chosen another life.
He had spent years trying to return to a family that had been hidden from him.
And she had spent those same years believing she had been left behind.
When Matteo arrived, he found her sitting beside the box.
He did not ask whether she was all right.
He already knew.
He sat on the floor beside her.
After a while, she handed him the final letter.
He read it.
Then he placed it carefully back inside the envelope.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Elena looked at him.
"Why are you still here?"
"Because I wanted to make sure you weren't alone."
She studied him.
"You're not responsible for my father's death."
"No."
"You're not responsible for my mother's suffering."
"No."
"Then stop apologizing for things you didn't do."
Matteo nodded.
"All right."
She looked at the letters.
"Do you think he knew I was alive?"
"I don't know."
"I hope he did."
Matteo remained quiet.
Elena wiped her cheeks.
"I want to visit where he died."
"I'll arrange it."
"And I want to know who kept him there."
"We'll find out."
She looked at him.
"Not you and your father's men. The truth. All of it."
Matteo nodded.
"I understand."
***
The investigation into Saint Catherine's uncovered a larger conspiracy.
The facility had been privately funded through several companies connected to Vincent Bellini.
It was not a hospital in the ordinary sense.
It was a place where injured men connected to criminal organizations could disappear without appearing in public records.
Some stayed for weeks.
Others stayed for years.
Daniel Rossi had been one of them.
His treatment had been paid for.
His identity had been concealed.
And every letter he wrote had been collected by Vincent.
The records also revealed that Vincent had used the facility to hide two other witnesses.
One had died.
The other was still alive.
His name was Anthony Bellandi.
He was the younger brother of the man Alessandro had blamed for Lorenzo's murder.
Anthony had been kept under a false identity after a failed assassination attempt.
When Matteo located him, he discovered that Anthony had been living in a retirement facility under the name Thomas Reed.
He was seventy-six years old.
He remembered everything.
And he was willing to testify.
The testimony changed the investigation.
Anthony confirmed that the Bellandi family had never ordered Lorenzo's murder.
In fact, Lorenzo had been negotiating peace.
He wanted to end the war.
He wanted to dismantle the illegal operations that had made both families rich.
Vincent had discovered the negotiations.
He arranged the assassination and framed Daniel.
The war that followed had been engineered to protect Vincent's position.
Hundreds of people had suffered because of a lie.
Businesses had burned.
Families had lost sons.
Children had grown up without fathers.
And two criminal empires had spent twenty years destroying each other over a murder committed by a man they had trusted.
When Alessandro heard Anthony's testimony, he did not speak for several minutes.
Then he asked Matteo to arrange a meeting with the surviving Bellandi family.
Matteo understood what his father intended.
"You want peace?"
Alessandro nodded.
"I want the truth on record."
"And what about the organization?"
The old man looked at his son.
"That is no longer the most important thing."
***
The meeting took place at a private estate outside the city.
Alessandro arrived without his usual convoy.
Only Carlo accompanied him.
Across the table sat Anthony Bellandi and his nephew, Marco.
Marco was fifty years old.
He had inherited the remaining Bellandi businesses and had spent most of his life believing the Moretti family had murdered his uncle.
When Alessandro entered, Marco did not stand.
"You have a lot of courage coming here."
Alessandro took the chair opposite him.
"I have a lot of things to answer for."
Marco placed a photograph on the table.
It showed his uncle Lorenzo standing beside Anthony.
"Your family killed him."
Alessandro looked at the photograph.
"Yes."
Anthony shook his head.
"Alessandro."
The old man raised his hand.
"Let him speak."
Marco continued.
"Your men destroyed our businesses. They killed my father. They burned the restaurant where my grandmother worked."
Alessandro listened.
He did not interrupt.
When Marco finally stopped, the old man spoke.
"I believed your family had murdered my brother."
"And you were wrong."
"Yes."
"That doesn't bring anyone back."
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
Alessandro looked at him.
"Because I want the war to end."
Marco gave a bitter laugh.
"Now?"
"Yes."
"After twenty years?"
Alessandro nodded.
"After twenty years."
Marco leaned back.
"You think you can walk in here, admit you were wrong, and expect us to forgive you?"
"No."
"Then what do you expect?"
"Nothing."
Alessandro placed a folder on the table.
Inside were financial records showing the companies and properties the Moretti organization had used to fund the attacks.