Chapter 6 - The Secret Inside the Romano Family
The photograph was taken that morning.
My mother stood outside the house.
Someone had watched her leave.
Alessandro's expression became deadly calm.
Victor started issuing orders.
I grabbed Alessandro's arm.
“Don't.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“Don't turn this into another war.”
He stared.
“He threatened my mother.”
“He wants you angry.”
“He has no right to—”
“I know.”
I stepped closer.
“That's exactly what he wants.”
Alessandro took a breath.
“You're right.”
Victor looked stunned.
I almost smiled.
“Did you just admit I was right?”
“Don't ruin the moment.”
We spent the night studying the old records.
My mother remembered pieces.
Names.
Locations.
Accounts.
And finally, a photograph.
Alessandro's grandfather stood beside a man I recognized.
Salvatore De Luca.
But the date was thirty years earlier.
Salvatore wasn't supposed to have been part of the family.
Yet he was.
Not an outsider.
A partner.
A blood relative.
Alessandro stared at the photograph.
“He's my half-brother.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“My grandfather had another son.”
My mother nodded.
“Salvatore was never legally recognized.”
“Why?”
“Because his mother was a witness against Elias.”
Alessandro shook his head.
“He wanted revenge.”
“Not just revenge.”
My mother pointed toward the records.
“Control.”
The ledger was only part of the truth.
The real secret was a second archive.
A digital vault containing names and transaction histories.
And my mother had the access code.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
She looked at me.
“Because I wanted you to have a life.”
I laughed bitterly.
“I was working sixteen-hour shifts.”
“I know.”
“And nearly getting killed.”
“I know.”
“Mom.”
She took my hand.
“I am sorry.”
Alessandro stood.
“We need to move.”
“Where?”
“The original Romano warehouse.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because that's where the archive is.”
We drove after midnight.
The warehouse stood near the river.
Old brick.
Rusting doors.
Empty windows.
Inside, Alessandro's men searched every room.
Then we found a hidden elevator.
It descended four floors.
The vault was enormous.
Rows of shelves.
Servers.
Documents.
Photographs.
Alessandro stared.
“This has been here the whole time.”
My mother touched the wall.
“Your grandfather built it.”
We found the archive.
Names appeared on screen.
Politicians.
Police.
Judges.
Businessmen.
Then one file.
SALVATORE DE LUCA.
It contained photographs from decades earlier.
And one document.
A death certificate.
It was forged.
Alessandro stared.
“Salvatore was declared dead at age seventeen.”
My mother nodded.
“He disappeared.”
“Why?”
“He was sent away.”
“By my grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“And my father?”
“Your father tried to bring him back.”
Alessandro's face changed.
“My father knew.”
“He knew everything.”
“Then why didn't he stop him?”
“Because he was afraid.”
“For himself?”
“For you.”
I stepped closer.
Alessandro was silent.
His shoulders had fallen.
The powerful man looked suddenly like the nineteen-year-old boy my mother remembered.
“You don't have to carry their sins,” I said.
He looked at me.
“But they carry my name.”
“So change the meaning of it.”
He stared.
“How?”
“End it.”
His eyes narrowed.
“The empire?”
“The violence.”
Silence.
Then he nodded.
“Okay.”
It was the first time he had said it without hesitation.
He would leave.
He would dismantle the illegal network.
He would expose the people who had used his family.
But Salvatore wasn't finished.
The warehouse doors exploded inward.
Gunfire filled the room.
Victor shouted.
“Back!”
Alessandro grabbed me.
We ran toward the vault.
Salvatore appeared on the upper balcony.
He looked almost exactly like an older version of Alessandro.
Same eyes.
Different soul.
“Hello, little brother.”
Alessandro stopped.
“You're not my brother.”
Salvatore laughed.
“That's what your father told you?”
“He lied.”
“So did mine.”
He looked at me.
“Lena.”
I froze.
“You have your mother's eyes.”
Alessandro stepped between us.
“Don't look at her.”
Salvatore smiled.
“Still protecting everyone.”
He raised a folder.
“I have your mother’s old testimony.”
My mother stepped forward.
“You won't use it.”
Salvatore shook his head.
“No.”
He smiled.
“I'll use something better.”
He opened another file.
A birth record.
Mine.
I stared.
“What is that?”
Salvatore looked directly at me.
“Your father wasn't dead.”
My world stopped.
“My father?”
Alessandro turned toward me.
His expression changed.
Salvatore continued.
“He's alive.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Where?”
Salvatore smiled.
“Ask your mother.”
I turned.
My mother was crying.
“Mom?”
May you like
She whispered.
“Your father is alive.”
