Chapter 3 - The Mafia Boss Learned His Dead Father Might Still Be Alive—Then His Former Fiancée Returned With a Gun and a Terrifying ConfessionThe photograph was real.
Three separate specialists confirmed it.
No manipulation.
No altered date.
No digital fabrication.
Enzo spent twenty-four hours trying to explain the impossible.
His father, Vittorio Marchetti, had supposedly died eight years earlier after a private plane crashed over Lake Michigan.
The wreckage had been recovered.
Two bodies had been identified.
Vittorio's had not.
The family buried an empty coffin.
Enzo had inherited everything at twenty-nine.
The organization.
The enemies.
The responsibilities.
Now Thomas Croft's photograph suggested Vittorio had been alive at least fourteen months earlier.
Adeline found Enzo alone in his study at two in the morning.
A glass of whiskey sat untouched before him.
She knocked.
He looked up.
“You don't have to knock.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because it's your room.”
Something about that answer made him smile.
Barely.
“Come in.”
She entered.
Her injuries were healing.
She no longer wore a maid's uniform.
Lucia had personally ordered several sets of clothes delivered.
Adeline protested.
Lucia ignored her.
Tonight Adeline wore jeans and a cream sweater.
Enzo noticed.
He wished he hadn't.
That was becoming a problem.
“You should sleep,” he said.
“So should you.”
“I wasn't beaten yesterday.”
“Neither was I.”
“Two days ago.”
“Still.”
She sat opposite him.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Adeline asked, “Do you want him to be alive?”
Enzo stared at the whiskey.
“I don't know.”
“That's allowed.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“My father was complicated.”
“Most fathers are.”
“He loved us.”
“But?”
“He loved power too.”
Adeline understood.
“My father loved his restaurant more than was medically reasonable.”
Enzo looked at her.
“He once missed my high school graduation because a freezer broke.”
“That seems excessive.”
“I didn't speak to him for nine days.”
“Did the freezer survive?”
She laughed.
“Yes.”
“Then he made the right choice.”
Adeline threw a cushion at him.
Enzo caught it.
They both froze.
It was absurd.
Small.
Normal.
For a moment, he wasn't a mafia boss investigating a conspiracy.
She wasn't a woman whose father had been poisoned.
They were simply two exhausted people sitting in a study at two in the morning.
Enzo placed the cushion beside him.
“Adeline.”
“Yes?”
“Why aren't you afraid of me?”
She thought about it.
“I am.”
That surprised him.
“But not in the way I expected.”
“What does that mean?”
“I know you're dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“I know you've probably done things I wouldn't approve of.”
“Yes.”
“You say yes very easily.”
“I dislike lying.”
“That's ironic.”
“Occupational hazard.”
She smiled.
Then became serious.
“I'm not afraid you'll hurt me because you're angry.”
Enzo said nothing.
“That matters.”
His eyes held hers.
“Camilla hurt you in my home.”
“You stopped her.”
“Too late.”
“You weren't there.”
“I should have been.”
Adeline shook her head.
“You can't be everywhere.”
“People expect me to be.”
“I don't.”
Something changed in the room.
Enzo stood.
Not because he wanted to leave.
Because staying seated felt dangerous.
Adeline watched him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That's obviously a lie.”
He walked toward the window.
“You work for me.”
“Technically.”
“You came here under false pretenses.”
“Also true.”
“My engagement ended because of what happened to you.”
“Because of what Camilla did.”
He looked back.
“You sound like my mother.”
“She's smart.”
“She likes you.”
“I like her.”
“She never liked Camilla.”
“Your mother has excellent judgment.”
Enzo laughed.
A real laugh.
Adeline stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're looking at me strangely.”
“I didn't know you could do that.”
“Do what?”
“Laugh.”
His smile faded slowly.
Then the front window shattered.
Enzo moved instantly.
He pulled Adeline behind the desk.
Security flooded the hall.
No second shot came.
Marco entered holding an envelope.
“It wasn't a bullet.”
“What?”
“Rock.”
The envelope had been tied around it.
Enzo opened it.
Inside was one sentence.
MIDNIGHT TOMORROW. OLD ASHFORD STEEL MILL. BRING THE CROFT NOTEBOOK OR THE MAID DIES.
Adeline read it.
“That's rude.”
Enzo stared at her.
“Rude?”
“Calling me ‘the maid.’ I have a name.”
He almost smiled.
Then he saw the second page.
A photograph.
Camilla Ashford.
She was tied to a chair.
Blood on her face.
Adeline stopped joking.
“Oh my God.”
Enzo stared.
The message continued.
COME ALONE OR CAMILLA DIES FIRST.
Adeline looked at him.
“You're going.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You just used my word.”
“You can't go alone.”
“I won't.”
“The note says—”
“I don't take tactical advice from kidnappers.”
Marco nodded approvingly.
Adeline looked at Camilla's photograph.
The woman had beaten her.
Humiliated her.
Called her a servant like it was an insult.
And yet seeing Camilla terrified made Adeline sick.
“We have to help her.”
Enzo studied Adeline.
“You want to save Camilla?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because what she did to me doesn't make this okay.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“You are very inconvenient.”
“So I've been told.”
The following night, Enzo went to the steel mill.
Marco's team surrounded the property unseen.
Adeline was supposed to remain in the armored SUV.
She lasted twelve minutes.
Then gunfire started.
She opened the door.
Sofia grabbed her.
“Absolutely not.”
“Camilla is inside.”
“And Mr. Marchetti specifically said—”
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
A second explosion shook the building.
Sofia swore.
Then her earpiece crackled.
Marco's voice.
“South entrance compromised. We need medical kit inside.”
Adeline grabbed it.
“Convenient.”
Sofia glared.
They entered together.
The steel mill was enormous.
Rust.
Broken windows.
Old machinery.
Enzo stood near a central platform.
Camilla was tied to a chair.
And behind her stood Senator William Ashford.
Her father.
Camilla stared at him.
“Dad?”
Adeline froze.
William held a gun against his daughter's head.
Enzo's face was stone.
“You kidnapped your own daughter.”
William smiled.
“Necessary theater.”
Camilla began crying.
“You said they took you too.”
“I'm sorry, sweetheart.”
“No, you're not.”
Everyone turned.
Adeline had stepped from behind the machinery.
Enzo's expression became murderous.
Not toward William.
Toward her.
“You were supposed to stay in the car.”
“Later.”
“Adeline.”
“Later.”
Camilla stared at her.
“You came?”
Adeline looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We can discuss your personality problems after nobody is pointing a gun at you.”
Even Enzo almost smiled.
William didn't.
“Give me the notebook.”
Enzo held it up.
“First tell me where my father is.”
William's expression changed.
Camilla looked confused.
“His father?”
William laughed.
“Vittorio always said you were impatient.”
Enzo went still.
“He's alive.”
William smiled.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Closer than you think.”
Adeline watched Enzo absorb it.
“Why fake his death?”
“Because the Black Crown needed someone invisible.”
“And Alessandro?”
“Also alive.”
Enzo's face hardened.
William continued.
“Your father and uncle built something larger than Chicago.”
“Weapons trafficking.”
“Among other things.”
“My father forbade weapons.”
William laughed.
“Publicly.”
Enzo looked sick.
Eight years of worshipping a dead man.
Eight years of carrying a legacy built on lies.
William extended his hand.
“Notebook.”
Enzo tossed it.
William caught it.
At that moment, Camilla moved.
She drove her heel backward into her father's knee.
The gun shifted.
Adeline ran.
Enzo shouted.
A shot exploded.
Adeline reached Camilla and pulled the chair sideways.
Marco's team stormed the platform.
William fired twice.
Then Enzo hit him.
The gun slid away.
Seconds later, William was restrained.
Camilla sobbed.
Adeline untied her.
Their eyes met.
Camilla looked at the fading marks on Adeline's arms.
“I’m sorry.”
Adeline paused.
Camilla continued.
“I know that doesn't fix it.”
“No.”
“I was horrible to you.”
“Yes.”
Camilla almost laughed through tears.
“You could pretend to make me feel better.”
“I could.”
“But you won't.”
“No.”
Adeline freed her hands.
Camilla rubbed her wrists.
“Why did you help me?”
Adeline looked at her.
“Because I decide what kind of person I am. You don't.”
Camilla lowered her eyes.
Enzo heard.
Something inside him shifted.
Then William began laughing.
Enzo turned.
“What?”
William looked at Adeline.
“You still don't understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why Thomas Croft took the job.”
Adeline froze.
“He wasn't investigating Vittorio.”
William smiled.
“He was working for him.”
“No.”
“Your father was Black Crown.”
Adeline went pale.
“You're lying.”
“Ask Vittorio.”
Enzo stepped closer.
“Where is he?”
William smiled.
Then gave them an address.
An abandoned lakeside estate forty miles north.
Enzo looked at Marco.
“Prepare the cars.”
Adeline grabbed Enzo's arm.
He looked down at her hand.
She released him.
“Sorry.”
“Don't.”
She swallowed.
“I'm coming.”
“Adeline—”
“My father may have been involved.”
“This could be dangerous.”
“My entire life is dangerous now.”
“I don't want you hurt.”
“And I don't want you deciding what truth I'm allowed to hear.”
Enzo closed his eyes.
She had him.
He hated when she had him.
“Fine.”
Adeline nodded.
“Thank you.”
“But you stay beside me.”
She almost argued.
Then saw his face.
“Fine.”
They reached the lakeside estate before dawn.
The gates were open.
No guards.
No vehicles.
The front door stood ajar.
Enzo entered first.
Adeline remained beside him.
Inside, lights glowed.
A fireplace burned.
Someone had been expecting them.
Then a man stepped from the shadows.
Older.
Silver-haired.
Same eyes as Enzo.
Adeline felt Enzo stop breathing.
The man smiled.
“Hello, son.”
May you like
Vittorio Marchetti was alive.
And beside him on the table sat Thomas Croft's missing second notebook.
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