Chapter 4 - The Mafia Boss Found His Father Alive After Eight Years—But the Truth About the Maid’s Father Forced Him to Choose Between Blood and the Woman He LovedEnzo had imagined seeing his father again thousands of times.
Usually in dreams.
Sometimes Vittorio was young.
Sometimes old.
Sometimes Enzo was still twenty-nine, standing beside an empty coffin and refusing to cry because two hundred men were watching.
Never had he imagined this.
Vittorio Marchetti stood beside a fireplace holding a glass of wine.
Alive.
Seventy-two.
Calm.
“You've grown,” Vittorio said.
Enzo stared.
“Eight years.”
“I know.”
“You let us bury you.”
“Yes.”
“You let Mama grieve.”
Vittorio's expression shifted.
“That was regrettable.”
Enzo hit him.
Adeline gasped.
Vittorio fell against the table.
The wine glass shattered.
Marco didn't move.
Neither did the guards.
Vittorio wiped blood from his mouth.
“I suppose I deserved that.”
Enzo grabbed his shirt.
“You deserved worse.”
“Probably.”
“Why?”
Vittorio looked toward Adeline.
“Because sometimes leadership requires sacrifice.”
Enzo nearly hit him again.
Adeline spoke.
“Where is my father's notebook?”
Vittorio looked at her.
“Thomas's daughter.”
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Did you poison him?”
“No.”
“Did you know someone was poisoning him?”
Silence.
Adeline's face changed.
“You knew.”
“I learned later.”
“And did nothing.”
“Thomas was already dying.”
She slapped him.
Everyone froze.
Vittorio stared.
Adeline's hand shook.
“Cancer doesn't make murder acceptable.”
Enzo almost smiled.
His father noticed.
“You care for her.”
Enzo's face closed.
“This isn't about her.”
“Everything becomes about the woman eventually.”
Adeline stepped toward the table.
“Notebook.”
Vittorio handed it over.
She opened it.
Her father's handwriting filled half the pages.
Then another handwriting appeared.
Vittorio's.
They had been working together.
Thomas had not joined the Black Crown.
He had infiltrated it.
For Vittorio.
Adeline looked up.
“My father was helping you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I discovered Alessandro had turned part of our organization into a trafficking network.”
“Weapons?” Enzo asked.
“Weapons. Stolen pharmaceuticals. Political bribery.”
Vittorio's face darkened.
“I needed evidence.”
“So you faked your death.”
“Yes.”
“And recruited Thomas.”
“He had no criminal ties. Alessandro trusted accountants.”
Adeline's voice shook.
“You used him.”
Vittorio didn't deny it.
“He volunteered.”
“Because you told him what?”
“The truth.”
“What truth?”
“That if Alessandro succeeded, hundreds of people would suffer.”
Adeline laughed bitterly.
“So my father decided to be a hero.”
“He was one.”
“No.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“He was my father.”
The room went quiet.
“You people keep talking about sacrifice as though the people being sacrificed agreed to become symbols.”
Vittorio looked away.
Adeline continued.
“He had a daughter.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn't you protect him?”
Vittorio had no answer.
That answer was enough.
Adeline walked outside.
Enzo followed.
She stood beside the lake.
Morning light was beginning to spread across the water.
“Adeline.”
“Don't.”
He stopped.
She wiped her face.
“My father chose this.”
“Yes.”
“And your father let him.”
“Yes.”
“I hate both of them.”
“That's allowed.”
She laughed through tears.
“You always say that.”
“Because people don't say it enough.”
She turned.
Enzo stood several feet away.
Not touching her.
Waiting.
Adeline crossed the distance herself.
She wrapped her arms around him.
Enzo froze.
Then slowly held her.
She cried against his chest.
For her father.
For wasted months.
For all the things grief had never allowed her to say.
Enzo said nothing.
He simply stayed.
Eventually she pulled back.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't.”
“I soaked your shirt.”
“I own others.”
She laughed.
Then looked at him.
Something changed.
They were too close.
Enzo's hand remained at her waist.
He noticed.
Started to remove it.
Adeline stopped him.
His eyes met hers.
“Adeline.”
“Yes?”
“If I kiss you right now, I need to know it's because you want me to.”
Her heart hurt.
Not because the question was difficult.
Because it wasn't.
“I want you to.”
He kissed her.
Slowly.
No urgency.
No possession.
Adeline's fingers curled into his shirt.
For the first time since her father died, something inside her felt alive instead of merely functional.
When they separated, Enzo rested his forehead against hers.
“This is a terrible time.”
“Extremely.”
“My father returned from the dead thirty minutes ago.”
“Very inconvenient.”
“My former fiancée was kidnapped yesterday.”
“You have a complicated schedule.”
He laughed.
Then gunfire erupted inside the house.
Enzo spun.
“Stay here.”
Adeline stared.
He stopped.
“Please.”
Better.
“Fine.”
Enzo ran inside.
Alessandro Marchetti had arrived.
With twelve men.
Vittorio's younger brother had spent years building the Black Crown.
Now he intended to destroy every witness.
The lakeside estate became a battlefield.
Adeline stayed outside for approximately ninety seconds.
Then she saw smoke.
She entered through the side kitchen.
Inside, Marco was wounded.
Vittorio was pinned behind the staircase.
Enzo was trapped across the hall.
Alessandro stood above him with a gun.
“You were always too sentimental,” Alessandro said.
Enzo's weapon lay several feet away.
“Like your mother.”
Alessandro raised the gun.
Adeline grabbed the nearest object.
A heavy brass fireplace tool.
She swung.
It struck Alessandro's wrist.
The gun fired into the ceiling.
Enzo tackled him.
The fight ended quickly.
Marco's remaining men overwhelmed Alessandro's team.
Police and federal agents arrived twenty minutes later.
Vittorio had contacted them before Enzo arrived.
For the first time in decades, the Black Crown's records were handed over intact.
Alessandro was arrested.
So was William Ashford.
Dozens followed.
Vittorio agreed to testify.
He would likely spend the remainder of his life in federal custody.
Before they took him away, Enzo stood beside the car.
Vittorio looked at his son.
“I wanted you protected.”
“You abandoned me.”
“I know.”
“You abandoned Mama.”
“I know.”
“You used Thomas Croft.”
Vittorio looked toward Adeline.
“Yes.”
Enzo's voice broke.
“I spent eight years trying to become you.”
Vittorio looked at him.
“Don't.”
Enzo stared.
His father smiled sadly.
“Become better.”
The federal car drove away.
Adeline approached.
Enzo watched until it disappeared.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Me neither.”
He looked at her.
Then held out his hand.
Not taking hers.
Offering.
Adeline looked at it.
Then placed her hand in his.
Together they walked back toward the house.
Neither noticed the message arriving on Marco's phone.
May you like
Camilla Ashford had disappeared.
And this time, she had left willingly.
