Chapter 2 - The Mafia King Locked Down His Mansion—Then Told Me My Dead Husband Had Been Carrying a Secret That Could Get My Daughter KilledThe emergency lights came on thirty seconds later.
Thirty seconds.
That was all it took for chaos to swallow Villa Moretti.
Men shouted.
Chairs overturned.
Weapons appeared.
The twelve family heads were surrounded by armed guards.
I held Emma against my chest.
She buried her face in my shoulder.
“Mommy.”
“I'm here.”
“It's dark.”
“I know.”
“Mr. Bunny is scared.”
I looked at the rabbit.
Alessandro stood across from me.
He wasn't looking at the politicians.
He wasn't looking at the armed guards.
He was staring at Emma.
More specifically, at the rabbit.
“Bring me the rabbit.”
I tightened my arms.
“No.”
His eyes met mine.
“You don't understand.”
“I understand that everyone in this room suddenly wants my daughter's toy.”
“I don't want the toy.”
“Then what do you want?”
“The mark.”
He stepped closer.
“The symbol stitched into that rabbit belonged to a group that killed seventeen people in Milan eight years ago.”
I felt cold.
“My husband died eight years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Are you saying he was involved?”
“No.”
Alessandro paused.
“I am saying he may have discovered them.”
Emma began crying.
I immediately moved away.
“Enough.”
Alessandro stopped.
“She needs me.”
“I know.”
“Then stop frightening her.”
Something flickered across his face.
Regret.
He lowered his voice.
“I apologize.”
It was the first time I had ever heard Alessandro Moretti apologize.
He crouched.
“Emma.”
She peeked over my shoulder.
“I won't hurt you.”
She studied him.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She slowly looked at the rabbit.
Then back at him.
“Mr. Bunny doesn't like bad men.”
Alessandro almost smiled.
“Neither do I.”
She extended the rabbit.
He examined the stitching.
The black serpent.
The broken crown.
Then he noticed something else.
A small seam.
He took a knife from his pocket.
I stiffened.
“What are you doing?”
“Trust me.”
I didn't.
But something about his voice made me pause.
He carefully cut the seam.
A tiny metal capsule fell into his palm.
Everyone in the room went silent.
Alessandro opened it.
Inside was a memory card.
My heart stopped.
“That was inside the rabbit?”
He nodded.
I stared.
“My husband never told me.”
“He couldn't.”
“Why?”
“Because if he had, you'd have been killed too.”
I felt dizzy.
Alessandro handed the card to one of his men.
“Get a secure laptop.”
The man returned.
The file contained one video.
My husband's face appeared on screen.
Daniel.
My Daniel.
The man I had buried.
The man I had cried over until my chest hurt.
The man whose clothes I had kept for months because I couldn't accept he was gone.
His face appeared.
Older.
Tired.
Frightened.
“Clara,” he said.
I stopped breathing.
“If you're seeing this, I'm dead.”
Emma stared at the screen.
“Daddy.”
I couldn't answer.
Daniel continued.
“I'm sorry.”
The recording shook.
“I didn't know who to trust.”
His eyes moved toward the camera.
“Not even the police.”
Then he said something that changed everything.
“The Black Serpent isn't gone.”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“It's inside the Moretti organization.”
Everyone in the room froze.
Daniel continued.
“I don't know who the traitor is.”
“But I know they're close.”
“Very close.”
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then Don Ricci whispered:
“There are only twelve people who know the internal structure.”
Alessandro slowly turned.
Twelve families.
Twelve bosses.
One traitor.
And my daughter had been carrying the evidence for eight years.
Then the laptop screen changed.
A new message appeared.
ONE OF YOU IS LYING.
Then another.
AND THE HOUSEKEEPER KNOWS WHERE THE REST IS.
Alessandro looked at me.
“Clara.”
“Yes?”
“Where is the rest of the evidence?”
“I don't know.”
He believed me.
But someone else didn't.
Vivian stepped forward.
“I think I know.”
Alessandro looked at her.
She smiled.
“Her husband left something behind.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
My blood ran cold.
I remembered the photograph.
Daniel had hidden one behind our bedroom mirror.
I had never understood why.
Alessandro saw my expression.
“You know where it is.”
I said nothing.
He nodded.
“Take her to the safe room.”
Vivian objected.
“Alessandro—”
“Enough.”
Then he looked at me.
“You're not a prisoner.”
“What am I?”
May you like
His answer was quiet.
“My responsibility.”
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