Chapter 15 - Alina Finally Learned Why Her Father Died
Three months later, the reopened investigation issued its official findings.
Diego Vasquez had not died in an accident.
Federal investigators concluded Sebastian Castalano orchestrated an attempt to intercept him after learning Diego possessed evidence concerning Starlight.
The hired driver forced Diego’s vehicle from the road.
Diego died at the scene.
Vittorio Castalano had attempted to warn him through Luca but was too late.
Luca’s death eight months later had also been reclassified.
Not robbery.
Homicide.
Sebastian ordered it.
Antonio Rizzo helped conceal it.
The truth was uglier than Alina imagined.
But it was finally truth.
She took a copy of the report to her mother’s grave.
Sofia came with her.
For a while neither spoke.
Then Alina placed the document beside the headstone.
“You should have told me.”
Sofia looked at the grave.
“She wanted you to have a childhood.”
“I spent half of it watching her be afraid.”
“She did the best she could.”
“I know.”
That was the hardest part.
Sometimes people hurt you while loving you.
Sometimes silence is protection until it becomes its own wound.
Alina had learned that from her mother.
And Marco.
“What happens to Sebastian?” she asked.
“Likely prison for the rest of his life.”
“Vale?”
“Cooperating.”
“Whitmore?”
“Resigning and facing charges.”
Alina nodded.
“And Marco?”
Sofia smiled faintly.
“You tell me.”
“We haven’t spoken in seven weeks.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Alina sighed.
“He gave me space.”
“You sound offended.”
“I’m not.”
“You sound extremely offended.”
“He could call.”
“So could you.”
“That is deeply unhelpful.”
Sofia laughed.
Alina had forgotten the sound.
That afternoon she returned to the foundation office.
A package waited.
No return address.
Inside was her mother’s restored cookbook.
Every torn page repaired.
The damaged binding replaced.
A note lay inside.
The safest place is where everyone looks but nobody sees. Your mother was right about more than recipes. — M
Alina stared at the handwriting.
Marco.
She smiled despite herself.
Then Claire entered.
“You look suspiciously happy.”
“I hate that everyone in my life is observant.”
Claire placed a folder down.
“What?”
“Final identity list.”
Alina’s smile faded.
“How many victims?”
“Four hundred eighty-seven.”
“And they’ll all be contacted privately?”
“Yes.”
“No leaks?”
“We’ve secured court orders.”
“Good.”
Claire watched her.
“You did something rare.”
“What?”
“You had information powerful enough to destroy hundreds of innocent people, and you chose not to use it publicly.”
“My father asked me not to.”
“Plenty of people ignore dead parents.”
Alina looked toward the cookbook.
“Not mine.”
That evening, the foundation announced its first assistance program.
Within hours, the story spread across Facebook.
DAUGHTER OF DEAD WHISTLEBLOWER USES INHERITED FORTUNE TO HELP VICTIMS OF CRIME THAT KILLED HER FATHER.
Millions reacted.
People shared Diego’s story.
They shared Elena’s sacrifice.
They shared Alina’s decision.
And inevitably, someone resurrected old footage of Marco carrying Alina from the estate attack.
A blurry photograph had captured the moment.
His bloodstained shirt.
Her arms around his neck.
His face turned toward hers.
Caption:
He Lost His Empire Protecting Her. She Used Hers to Protect 487 Strangers.
Alina stared at it longer than she should have.
Then she closed the app.
Ten seconds later she opened it again.
Marco had not commented.
Of course he had not.
He probably did not even use Facebook.
She picked up her phone.
His number remained.
Her thumb hovered over it.
Before she could call, a knock came at the office door.
Dominic stood there.
“Marco is missing.”
Everything inside her stopped.
“What?”
“He left yesterday.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re his security chief.”
“Former.”
“What happened?”
Dominic handed her an envelope.
Marco’s handwriting.
For Alina.
Her hands shook.
Inside was a legal document.
Marco had transferred his remaining family property—
not to her.
To the foundation.
Along with one short letter.
There is one debt my family never paid. Let this be part of it.
Alina looked up.
“Where did he go?”
Dominic’s expression was troubled.
“He found something in Luca’s old records.”
“What?”
“A name.”
“What name?”
Dominic hesitated.
“Someone connected to your father’s crash who was never identified.”
Alina’s pulse accelerated.
“Who?”
Dominic looked toward the door.
May you like
“The driver.”
And Marco had gone to find him alone.
