Chapter 4 - The Sin Our Fathers Left Behind
Adrian did not shout.
I almost wished he would.
Rage would have been easier to watch than silence.
He sat in his wheelchair beneath the dim cellar lights and stared at the screen where his father stood beside the man who had murdered mine.
"Why?"
One word.
Carlo looked twenty years older when he answered.
"Victor threatened you."
Adrian's face hardened.
"So you betrayed Gabriel."
"I thought I was saving my son."
Victor stood a few feet behind Carlo, enjoying every second.
Carlo continued.
"Victor told me he wanted Gabriel removed. Arrested. Forced out of Chicago. He said there would be pressure, not slaughter."
"And you believed him?"
"I was afraid."
"That's your excuse?"
"No."
The answer came quickly.
"It isn't an excuse."
I stepped closer to the speaker.
"My father trusted you."
Carlo looked toward the camera.
His face changed.
"Melissa."
"Don't say my name like you knew me."
"I knew you when you were little."
My anger arrived hard.
"Then you knew exactly who you were leaving inside that house."
Carlo lowered his head.
"Yes."
"My mother spent twenty-two years running."
"I know."
"My father died."
"I know."
"You don't get to keep saying that."
"No."
For a moment Carlo looked almost relieved that I hated him.
Maybe hatred was easier than forgiveness.
He deserved neither from me yet.
"I confessed to Gabriel before the attack," Carlo said.
That stopped me.
"What?"
"Hours before."
Victor's expression changed slightly.
Carlo continued before he could interrupt.
"I realized Victor had more men moving than he claimed. I went to Gabriel. Told him everything."
I pictured my father.
Alive.
Listening to the confession.
"What did he do?"
"He could have killed me."
Carlo gave a broken laugh.
"He should have."
"What did he do?"
"He told me to evacuate the families."
Adrian closed his eyes.
Carlo's voice cracked.
"When the shooting started, I searched for you. I couldn't find you."
He looked at Adrian.
"Gabriel did."
Adrian breathed through his nose slowly.
"He carried me."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was ashamed."
"You let me spend thirty years thinking you were honorable."
"I know."
"And then you faked your death?"
"To get closer to Victor's network without putting you at risk."
Adrian laughed once.
Cold.
"You have an interesting definition of protecting me."
Victor stepped forward.
"Enough family therapy."
He gestured toward my mother.
Daniel pushed her wheelchair closer to the rain.
"Ledger."
Adrian muted the speaker.
"We move now."
The plan was crude.
That made me trust it more.
Two loyal guards carried a duplicate ledger toward the entrance.
I followed several feet behind them.
Visible.
The real ledger remained underground.
Adrian's men moved through the greenhouse tunnel.
Adrian waited in a side corridor near the front hall.
I hated that part.
Not because he was in danger.
Because he was taking the danger personally.
He checked his weapon.
I crouched beside him.
"Don't do anything stupid."
His eyebrow rose.
"You're the decoy."
"That's different."
"Explain."
"I don't have time."
"Convenient."
Despite everything, I smiled.
Then his face softened.
"Melissa."
"What?"
"If this works..."
"Very optimistic phrasing."
"If it works, don't disappear Friday."
The world seemed to narrow.
"Adrian."
"I'm not asking because of Gabriel."
"Then why?"
"I'm not asking because you're the baby's mother."
"Then why?"
His eyes held mine.
"Because I don't want this house without you."
My heartbeat stumbled.
That was it.
No poetry.
No grand declaration.
Just Adrian.
Terrible at tenderness.
Perfectly capable of terrifying half the city.
Helpless with one honest sentence.
"That's a horrible proposal."
"I'm not proposing."
"Good."
"Melissa."
"For a Mafia boss, you're very bad at this."
A gunshot shattered the moment.
I turned.
Daniel had fired into the marble beside my mother's wheelchair.
"Sixty seconds!" Victor shouted.
Adrian's face changed.
"Move."
The front doors opened.
Rain sprayed across the marble.
I stepped into view.
Victor saw me.
So did my mother.
"Melissa!"
"I'm okay!"
"No, you're not!" she shouted. "Go back inside!"
Even kidnapped and sick, my mother was still my mother.
Victor smiled.
"Bring me the book."
The guard held up the metal case.
I walked forward.
Ten feet.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
My mother was close now.
Pale.
Thinner than she'd been three weeks earlier.
But alive.
Then Carlo moved.
His hand rested on the back of my mother's wheelchair.
He leaned down.
Whispered something.
Victor turned.
"What did you say?"
Carlo swung his silver-headed cane.
It struck Daniel's wrist.
The pistol fired into the ceiling.
Everything exploded.
Adrian's guards emerged from the rose-garden tunnel.
Victor's men turned.
Shots cracked through the courtyard.
I ran toward my mother.
Daniel grabbed me from behind.
His arm locked around my throat.
"Stop!"
I clawed at him.
Wrong.
My father's voice came from somewhere far inside my memory.
Not strength.
Balance.
He had taught me when I was little.
If someone bigger holds you, don't fight what they're strongest at.
Take away the ground.
I dropped my weight and drove my heel backward.
Daniel stumbled.
Not enough.
His arm tightened.
Then wheels struck marble behind us.
Adrian.
Fast.
Gun raised.
"Let her go."
Daniel dragged me backward.
"You won't shoot through her."
Adrian's face became terrifyingly calm.
"You worked for me nine years and learned nothing."
"Drop it!"
Adrian didn't.
I shifted my foot.
Daniel's weight moved.
I slammed down again.
He staggered sideways.
One clean angle opened.
Adrian fired.
Daniel screamed.
The bullet struck his shoulder.
His arm fell away.
I dropped to the floor.
Adrian reached me.
"You hit?"
"No."
"Sure?"
"Yes!"
My mother cried my name.
I ran.
She wrapped her arms around me.
For one second I became six again.
Then Victor shouted from the garden.
Carlo chased him.
"Victor!"
Victor turned.
Carlo raised a gun.
Victor smiled.
"You still don't have the courage."
Carlo looked exhausted.
"No."
His grip tightened.
"But Gabriel did."
Two shots cracked almost together.
Carlo jerked backward.
Adrian shouted.
"Father!"
Victor disappeared into the storm.
Carlo collapsed on the stone.
Adrian drove his chair forward, then transferred recklessly onto the ground beside him.
"Stay awake."
Blood spread across Carlo's coat.
He looked at Adrian.
"I'm sorry."
"Save it."
"Adrian."
"Save it until the hospital."
Carlo's hand moved inside his coat.
For half a second, every guard around him raised a weapon.
He pulled out an envelope.
Old.
Yellowed.
One word was written on it.
MELISSA.
I stopped.
Carlo held it toward me.
"Gabriel gave me this."
My hand shook as I took it.
"The night he died?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you give it to my mother?"
"I couldn't find you."
"You had twenty-two years."
"I know."
His eyes moved toward Adrian.
"Gabriel made me promise something."
Adrian swallowed.
"What?"
Carlo's voice became barely audible.
"Protect her."
Then his eyes rolled shut.
Paramedics rushed through the gates.
People shouted.
My mother clung to my hand.
Adrian sat on the wet stone beside his unconscious father.
And I stared at the envelope.
My father's handwriting.
My father's last message.
Still sealed.
For twenty-two years, I had wondered what Gabriel Romano might have said if he'd known he was going to die.
Now I was holding the answer.
May you like
And somehow, I knew opening that letter was going to change what I believed about Adrian Moretti forever.
---
