Chapter 3 - The Man Who Murdered My Twin Sister Came for Me and Her Baby—But the Mafia Boss Chose to Surrender His Empire Rather Than Turn Us Into Prisoners Behind His GunsThe first thing I learned about gunfire was that it didn't sound like movies.
It was uglier.
Sharper.
Closer.
The second thing I learned was that terror could make ten seconds feel like ten years.
Marco killed the lights.
Gabriel pushed a heavy cabinet against the front door.
Rafael knew a basement exit.
Of course Isabella had built one.
My sister had prepared for everything except surviving.
I held Luca against my chest.
He was crying.
I whispered nonsense.
“It's okay.”
It wasn't.
“Aunt Elena's got you.”
The word aunt nearly broke me.
Gabriel heard it.
His eyes found mine in the darkness.
Something passed through them.
Then glass shattered upstairs.
“Move!”
We went into the basement.
Thomas was limping.
Alessandra supported him.
Rafael opened a concealed door.
Cold night air rushed in.
A narrow path descended toward the river.
“Boat?” Marco asked.
“Boathouse.”
We ran.
Behind us came shouting.
Men entered the cottage.
Luca cried louder.
I pressed his ear against my heartbeat.
Gabriel stayed behind me.
Not ahead.
Behind.
Protecting our escape.
Halfway down the hill, Rafael stopped.
“Go.”
Gabriel turned.
“What?”
“I'll delay them.”
“No.”
Rafael laughed bitterly.
“I've spent four years being afraid.”
He looked at me.
“I failed Isabella.”
Then Luca.
“I won't fail both her sister and her son.”
He turned back.
Gabriel grabbed him.
“You'll die.”
“Maybe.”
“No.”
Rafael stared.
“You don't get to decide how I pay for my cowardice.”
That sentence landed hard.
Gabriel released him.
Rafael returned uphill.
We reached the boathouse.
Marco started the engine.
Then a voice came from the darkness.
“Elena.”
I froze.
An old man stepped from behind the boat.
Gun in hand.
His hair was white.
His face thin.
But my face existed inside his.
The eyes.
The cheekbones.
My biological father.
Carlo Moretti.
“Put the baby down.”
Gabriel stepped between us.
Carlo smiled.
“Gabriel.”
“You killed my wife.”
“She was my daughter.”
“You killed her.”
“She betrayed me.”
My stomach turned.
Carlo looked at me.
“You have Sofia's eyes.”
“You don't get to say her name.”
His smile disappeared.
“Come here.”
“No.”
“I am your father.”
“No.”
“Blood says otherwise.”
“Blood gave you Isabella too.”
His expression hardened.
“And she made the wrong choice.”
Luca whimpered.
Carlo looked at him.
“He has her interest.”
“You mean her money.”
“Property.”
“You murdered your daughter over real estate.”
Carlo laughed.
“Do you think DeLuca built his empire without that waterfront?”
Gabriel didn't react.
Carlo continued.
“Your father knew exactly where Sofia's money came from.”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
“Maybe.”
“You benefited from us.”
“Maybe.”
“And now you pretend you're better.”
Gabriel's answer surprised me.
“I don't.”
Carlo frowned.
“I know what I am.”
Gabriel slowly lowered his weapon.
Everyone stared.
“Gabriel,” Marco warned.
He placed the gun on the floor.
Carlo smiled.
“Smart.”
Gabriel raised his empty hands.
“You want the trust.”
“Yes.”
“You need Elena alive.”
“Yes.”
“And Luca.”
“Yes.”
“Then take me.”
I stared.
“No.”
Carlo laughed.
“What would I want with you?”
“Everything.”
“What?”
Gabriel's voice remained calm.
“My companies.”
“Gabriel.”
He didn't look at me.
“DeLuca Maritime. Construction. Hotels. The waterfront.”
Carlo's greed appeared immediately.
“You'd sign?”
“If Elena and Luca walk away.”
“No,” I said.
Gabriel finally looked at me.
“It's property.”
“This isn't your decision.”
His face tightened.
I stepped closer.
“You don't get to trade your life and call it protection.”
Carlo raised his gun.
“Touching.”
I ignored him.
“Gabriel, Isabella literally wrote you a letter about this.”
Amazingly, Marco almost laughed.
Gabriel looked furious.
Good.
“Stop deciding for everyone.”
“Elena, he has a gun.”
“And you have an entire criminal organization. Apparently neither of you understands boundaries.”
Carlo's expression changed.
“Enough.”
He aimed at me.
Luca cried.
Then a gunshot exploded.
Carlo fell.
Not dead.
His weapon flew from his hand.
Rafael stood behind him.
Blood covered Rafael's shirt.
He had been shot.
But he was alive.
Marco tackled Carlo.
Gabriel grabbed the gun.
For one terrifying moment, he aimed it at the man who murdered Isabella.
Carlo laughed from the ground.
“Do it.”
Gabriel's finger tightened.
I didn't tell him not to.
This choice had to belong to him.
Luca was crying.
Gabriel looked at his son.
Then at me.
Then at Carlo.
Slowly, he lowered the weapon.
“No.”
Carlo sneered.
“Weak.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“My son has already lost one parent because of you.”
He handed the gun to Marco.
“He isn't losing another because I needed revenge.”
Police sirens approached.
Not Gabriel's men.
Actual police.
Rafael had called them before returning uphill.
So had Thomas.
Federal agents arrived minutes later.
Carlo Moretti was arrested.
So were eleven men.
Victor Santoro was captured the following morning trying to cross into Canada.
Rafael survived surgery.
And Gabriel DeLuca did something nobody expected.
He cooperated.
Completely.
Not only about Carlo.
About himself.
I found out two days later.
We were in a secure hospital wing.
Luca was sleeping against me.
Again.
Gabriel entered.
He looked exhausted.
“We need to talk.”
“Those words never lead anywhere fun.”
He almost smiled.
Then didn't.
“I met with federal prosecutors.”
My stomach tightened.
“About Carlo?”
“And me.”
“What does that mean?”
“I gave them records.”
“What records?”
“Everything.”
I stared.
“Gabriel.”
“My legitimate businesses are legitimate.”
“And the others?”
Silence.
There it was.
“Extortion?”
“Yes.”
“Gambling?”
“Yes.”
“Bribery?”
“Yes.”
“Violence?”
His eyes met mine.
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
“Then answer.”
He sat.
“I've ordered men beaten.”
I closed my eyes.
“I've threatened people.”
“Have you killed anyone?”
Long silence.
“Yes.”
I opened my eyes.
“How many?”
“Three.”
I handed Luca to Alessandra.
Then walked into the hall.
Gabriel followed but kept his distance.
“Why?”
“Two tried to kill me.”
“And the third?”
He looked ashamed.
“He betrayed my father.”
“Did he deserve to die?”
“No.”
Immediate.
I appreciated the honesty and hated the answer.
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because Isabella told me not to turn you into her replacement.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
“I hid parts of myself from her.”
His voice cracked.
“She knew enough to fear what I might do. But not everything.”
“And you think telling me fixes that?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I think you deserve enough truth to decide whether you ever want to see me again.”
That hurt.
“Gabriel—”
“I love watching you with Luca.”
I froze.
“But that frightens me.”
“Why?”
“Because sometimes I look at you and remember her.”
There it was.
My greatest fear.
I stepped backward.
He continued quickly.
“And then you speak.”
I stared.
“You argue.”
A tiny smile appeared.
“You tell me I'm controlling.”
“You are.”
“You hate olives.”
“Isabella liked them?”
“She loved them.”
“Terrible judgment.”
He laughed despite himself.
Then his face softened.
“You're not her.”
“No.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“And I need you to know that whatever I feel when I look at you now isn't about Isabella.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What do you feel?”
He stopped.
“I'm not going to answer that.”
“Why?”
“Because you're vulnerable.”
That surprised me.
“You've discovered your family was a lie. Your twin was murdered. Your biological father tried to kidnap you. You're holding a baby who instinctively trusts you.”
He stepped backward.
“If I tell you I want you now, I make myself another powerful man asking you for something while your world is collapsing.”
My throat tightened.
“So what happens?”
“You choose.”
“What?”
“Everything.”
“The trust.”
“Yes.”
“Luca?”
“I'm his father.”
“Obviously.”
“But whether you stay in his life is your choice.”
“My inheritance?”
“Yours.”
“Security?”
“Your choice.”
“And you?”
His expression changed.
“Especially me.”
That was when I realized I might someday love Gabriel DeLuca.
Not because he was dangerous.
Not because he was rich.
Not because his baby loved me.
Because he had finally learned to open his hand instead of closing it around everything he feared losing.
But someday wasn't today.
“I need time.”
“You have it.”
“I need my own apartment.”
“Yes.”
“My job.”
“Yes.”
“No guards inside my building.”
His jaw tightened.
“One outside?”
“Across the street.”
“Deal.”
I almost smiled.
“And I want DNA confirmation.”
“Already arranged if you consent.”
“Good.”
The tests confirmed everything.
Isabella and I were identical twins.
Sofia Moretti was our biological mother.
Carlo was our biological father.
Luca was my nephew.
The trust was real.
My share was worth approximately $438 million.
I nearly threw up when the lawyer told me.
Then I did something Gabriel didn't expect.
I refused immediate control.
Not ownership.
Control.
I appointed an independent fiduciary to manage the waterfront interests while investigators determined how much criminal money had touched the properties.
Gabriel stared at me.
“You're giving up voting power?”
“Temporarily.”
“Why?”
“Because three weeks ago I was deciding whether I could afford new shoes.”
“You're smarter than half my board.”
“That's not comforting.”
He laughed.
Carlo's prosecution began.
Victor made a deal.
His testimony proved Carlo had ordered Isabella's crash.
Rafael had helped conceal Carlo's survival but had not known about the murder until afterward.
He pleaded guilty to obstruction.
Thomas testified.
Then came the biggest shock.
Isabella had left another video.
This one for me.
I watched alone.
She smiled from the screen.
“Hi, Elena.”
I cried immediately.
“I hope you're angry with me.”
I laughed.
“I deserve it.”
She told me about our mother.
Sofia loved music.
Hated tomatoes.
Snored.
Apparently we both inherited the snoring.
She told me about herself.
She wanted to study architecture.
Loved Gabriel before she understood how dangerous his world was.
Had planned to convince him to leave it.
Then she said:
“Please love Luca if you want to.”
My heart broke.
“But don't do it because I couldn't.”
I covered my mouth.
“You don't owe him my place.”
“He needs an aunt.”
“Not a replacement mother.”
“And Gabriel…”
She smiled sadly.
“He'll pretend he's made of stone.”
“He isn't.”
“Don't let him use grief as an excuse to control you.”
“But don't assume the worst thing he has done is the only thing he can ever be.”
The video ended.
I sat there for an hour.
Then my phone rang.
Gabriel.
I answered.
“Hello?”
His voice sounded strange.
“Elena.”
“What happened?”
“The prosecutors offered me a plea agreement.”
My heart sank.
“How long?”
“Potentially thirty months.”
I closed my eyes.
“Are you taking it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm guilty.”
Simple.
No excuses.
“When?”
“Sentencing in three months.”
I couldn't speak.
Then he said:
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“I've transferred temporary custody instructions for Luca.”
My heart stopped.
“To Alessandra?”
“First choice.”
Good.
“And?”
“If she's unable…”
He paused.
“You.”
I sat up.
“Gabriel.”
“You can refuse.”
“Why me?”
“You know why.”
“Say it.”
“Because he loves you.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“And because I trust you.”
That mattered more.
Then Gabriel added:
“But Elena?”
“Yes?”
“Don't say yes because of Isabella.”
I cried.
“I'm not.”
“Don't say yes because of me.”
“I'm not.”
“Then why?”
I looked toward the photograph of Luca I'd placed beside my bed.
“Because I'm his aunt.”
Silence.
Then Gabriel exhaled.
“Okay.”
Three months later, I sat behind him in federal court.
Gabriel DeLuca pleaded guilty.
The judge sentenced him to twenty-eight months.
With credit and cooperation, he could serve less.
Before marshals took him away, he looked toward Luca.
Then me.
I held his son.
Gabriel didn't ask me to wait.
Didn't ask me to love him.
Didn't ask me to protect his empire.
He only mouthed:
Thank you.
And as he disappeared through the courtroom door, Luca reached after his father and began to cry.
This time, when I held him against my chest, he didn't calm immediately.
He kept crying.
So did I.
And strangely, that comforted me.
Because it proved something I desperately needed to know.
I wasn't Isabella.
I couldn't replace his mother.
And I couldn't replace his father.
May you like
I could only be Elena.
For the first time in my life, that finally felt like enough.
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