Chapter 5 - Why Rizzo Wanted Me Alive
I couldn't understand why anyone would want me.
I was a schoolteacher.
I lived in a small apartment.
I drove an old Honda.
I had no criminal connections.
No secret inheritance.
No hidden empire.
Vincent explained it slowly.
“My father kept records.”
“Records of what?”
“Everyone who worked with him.”
“And my father?”
“He made copies.”
My heartbeat increased.
“Copies of what?”
“Financial transactions.”
“Where?”
Vincent opened the flash drive.
“We're still trying to decrypt it.”
Luca entered carrying a laptop.
“I cracked the first layer.”
Vincent looked at him.
“And?”
Luca connected the computer.
A list appeared.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Shipping routes.
Then my father's name.
I covered my mouth.
Next to it was another name.
SALVATORE RIZZO.
Below that was a note.
BENNETT HAS THE ORIGINAL.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent looked at me.
“We need to find what your father kept.”
“I don't have anything.”
“Maybe you don't know that you do.”
That afternoon, we went to my mother's old house.
She had died two years earlier.
The place had been empty since.
I walked through the hallway slowly.
Everything smelled like dust and memories.
Vincent followed.
“Your mother knew?”
“I don't know.”
I opened drawers.
Nothing.
Closets.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a small crack behind a bookshelf.
We moved it.
There was a hidden compartment.
Inside was an old cassette recorder.
And a letter.
My hands shook.
The letter was addressed to me.
Nora,
If you're reading this, I wasn't able to tell you everything.
I need you to know that your father wasn't a criminal.
He was trying to protect people.
I opened the recorder.
My father's voice filled the room.
“If anything happens to me, don't trust the Morettis.”
Vincent froze.
I looked at him.
The recording continued.
“Not because they're all guilty. Because some of them don't know who is.”
My father's breathing sounded strained.
“Vincent is young. He may one day try to undo what his father did.”
Vincent lowered his head.
Then came the sentence that changed everything.
“Give the original ledger to the Moretti son only if he comes to you without asking for money, power, or loyalty.”
I stared at Vincent.
He looked at me.
“That's why you were there.”
“What?”
“The theater.”
My father's voice continued.
“Tell him the truth about my death. If he still chooses to protect his family instead of the truth, destroy the ledger.”
The recording stopped.
Nobody spoke.
Then Vincent whispered:
“Your father knew me.”
I shook my head.
“He knew the kind of man you might become.”
Vincent looked at the recorder.
“I don't deserve that trust.”
“You haven't earned it yet.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
Suddenly, the house lights went out.
Luca grabbed his weapon.
Vincent pushed me behind him.
A window shattered.
Gunfire.
We dropped.
Vincent returned fire.
Luca dragged me into the hallway.
A man entered through the kitchen.
Vincent tackled him.
The fight was brutal.
Then another man appeared.
He pointed at me.
Vincent moved faster.
The bullet struck his shoulder.
“Vincent!”
He fell against the wall.
I screamed.
Luca shot the attacker.
The room went silent.
Vincent looked at the blood on his shirt.
“I've had worse.”
“You were shot!”
“It's not my first time.”
I grabbed a towel.
“Sit down.”
“Nora—”
“Sit.”
He sat.
I pressed the towel against his shoulder.
He watched me.
“You're shaking.”
“So are you.”
“I am.”
He smiled faintly.
“You should be afraid of me.”
“I am.”
His smile disappeared.
“But I'm more afraid of losing you.”
The words hung between us.
Neither of us moved.
Then Luca looked away.
“I'll give you two a minute.”
I almost laughed despite everything.
Vincent didn't.
He looked at me.
“I won't ask you for anything.”
“You already did.”
“What?”
“You asked me to trust you.”
He swallowed.
May you like
“And?”
“I haven't decided.”
