Chapter 7 - Mateo’s One Rule
Emergency lights activated throughout the house.
Mateo grabbed my hand.
Not my wrist.
My hand.
“Stay with me.”
We moved through a hidden corridor behind the study.
“You have secret passages?”
“One.”
“That is one more than normal people.”
“This isn’t the time.”
“When is the appropriate time to discuss your villain architecture?”
Despite everything, he laughed.
Just once.
Then the sound of an explosion shook the back of the house.
I stopped joking.
Rosa and two security guards met us underground.
“Luca?” Mateo asked.
“Outside.”
Mateo turned toward the stairs.
I grabbed him.
“Where are you going?”
“To help.”
“With a fresh gunshot wound?”
“It’s not fresh.”
“It is forty-eight hours old!”
He looked at my hand gripping his sleeve.
Something softened.
“Harper.”
“No.”
“I have one rule.”
“What?”
“People under my protection do not stand between me and danger.”
I released him.
“That is an incredibly arrogant rule.”
“It has kept people alive.”
“And who protects you?”
He stopped.
Nobody answered.
That silence stayed with me long after he left.
Twenty minutes later, the attack ended.
It turned out the intruders had never entered the house.
They had thrown incendiary devices near the exterior cameras while someone attempted to access the network remotely.
A distraction.
Mateo returned.
Alive.
The relief that hit me was too strong.
Too immediate.
He saw it.
Neither of us mentioned it.
The computer survived because it was unplugged.
We restarted the video.
My father appeared.
“The Caruso contact is Anthony Caruso.”
Mateo inhaled sharply.
“Vincent’s father.”
My father continued.
“Anthony and Dominic created the conflict between their families. Stolen cargo was deliberately blamed on both sides. Retaliations followed. Every escalation increased their profits.”
I looked at Mateo.
“You were fighting a war created by your own uncle.”
He didn’t move.
The video continued.
“I tried telling Mateo Valente. I didn’t have enough evidence. Dominic found out.”
My father looked exhausted.
“If something happens to me, Harper and Emily must never know.”
A sad smile.
“They deserve ordinary lives.”
I began crying.
Mateo crouched beside me.
He didn’t touch me.
Not until I reached for him.
Then his arms closed around me.
Strong.
Warm.
Careful.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I allowed myself to collapse.
“My dad knew.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He tried to protect me.”
“Yes.”
“And it got him killed.”
Mateo didn’t lie.
“Probably.”
I pulled away.
“Probably?”
“We need proof.”
“We have proof!”
“We have a dead man’s accusation.”
“That’s enough for me.”
“It won’t be enough for court.”
I stared at him.
“You care about court?”
His face hardened.
“Yes.”
I remembered the rumors.
The collapsed cases.
The disappearances.
“What exactly are you, Mateo?”
He looked toward the blank screen.
“A man who made terrible decisions because I thought survival required them.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
“Have you killed people?”
A long silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
My heart tightened.
He didn’t excuse it.
Didn’t glorify it.
“Were they innocent?”
“Not knowingly.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It isn’t meant to.”
I stepped away.
For the first time, I saw the distance between us clearly.
Not money.
Not power.
Not reputation.
Morality.
Mateo had lived in a world where choices I considered unthinkable had become ordinary.
He stood.
“You should leave when this is over.”
The words hurt unexpectedly.
“You’ve spent two days refusing to let me leave.”
“And when you’re safe, you should.”
“Why?”
“Because you still ask me questions like that.”
I frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“It means your world hasn’t become mine yet.”
He looked at me.
“I want it to stay that way.”
Before I could answer, Luca entered.
His face was grim.
“We found Anthony Caruso.”
Mateo turned.
“Where?”
“Saint Joseph Cemetery.”
“Alive?”
Luca hesitated.
“No.”
My stomach dropped.
Then Luca added:
“But somebody left flowers on his grave this morning.”
Mateo frowned.
“So?”
“The card was addressed to Harper.”
He handed it to me.
In neat handwriting:
YOUR FATHER WASN’T THE FIRST JENKINS TO DISCOVER THE TRUTH. ASK YOUR MOTHER.
My breath stopped.
“My mother died when I was twelve.”
Mateo stared at the card.
Then at me.
May you like
“Are you certain?”
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