Chapter 4 - Clara Discovered the Mafia Boss Had Been Searching for Her Father for YearsThe recording contained eight minutes of Tobias Moretti's voice.
The first five were about money.
The sixth changed everything.
“If Adrian is hearing this, I'm already dead or close to it.”
A pause.
“I need you to know that I didn't betray you.”
Clara looked at Adrian.
His face was unreadable.
Tobias continued.
“Father's books were never clean. Uncle Victor knew that. Daniel Hayes found the first transfer.”
Clara's breath caught.
“He found money moving through theater contracts. Millions. The money wasn't going overseas.”
The recording crackled.
“It was being moved into a private reserve.”
Adrian whispered, “What reserve?”
Tobias continued.
“A reserve belonging to people outside the family.”
Clara leaned closer.
“Who?”
The tape distorted.
Then one name became clear.
“Halden.”
Adrian froze.
Clara looked at him.
“Who is Halden?”
Adrian stood abruptly.
“Turn it off.”
“Why?”
“Now.”
She stopped the tape.
He walked to the window.
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
He turned.
“Halden was a private financier.”
“And?”
“He financed politicians.”
“So?”
“He also financed my father.”
Clara understood.
“Your father didn't control the empire alone.”
“No.”
“He was being financed.”
“Yes.”
“By Halden.”
“Yes.”
“Then why was my father involved?”
Adrian looked exhausted.
“Because your father discovered the arrangement.”
“Then why didn't he expose it?”
“Because he had a family.”
Clara's throat tightened.
“My mother.”
“Your mother.”
“And me.”
“Yes.”
She sat down.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“How long?”
“Since before I met you.”
She stared.
“What?”
“I found your name in a file six years ago.”
Clara stood.
“You knew who I was?”
“I knew there was a Daniel Hayes who disappeared.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Adrian didn't answer.
She backed away.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you still hired my bakery company to supply your restaurants?”
“I didn't know the waitress was you.”
She laughed bitterly.
“That makes it better?”
“No.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“Looking for your father.”
“And I was what?”
“Possibly a lead.”
The words destroyed whatever fragile trust had begun forming.
Clara walked toward the door.
Adrian didn't stop her.
“I'm done.”
“Clara.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
She turned.
“You don't get to use my life to solve your family's secrets.”
“I agree.”
“Then let me go.”
His jaw tightened.
“Okay.”
She stopped.
That was all.
No threat.
No argument.
No attempt to control her.
He simply stepped aside.
She left.
Three weeks passed.
Clara returned to normal life.
Or the closest thing she could build.
She worked.
Paid bills.
Took care of her younger brother.
Went to her father's grave.
Then the impossible happened.
Someone left an envelope beneath the bakery door.
Inside was an old photograph.
Clara at age seven.
Her father behind her.
And on the back:
He never stopped watching you.
Clara called Adrian.
He answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“At the bakery.”
“Stay inside.”
She almost laughed.
“I called because of the photograph.”
He went silent.
“Send it.”
She did.
He called back two minutes later.
“I'm coming.”
She hung up.
Ten minutes later, his car arrived.
He entered the bakery alone.
Clara noticed his face.
“What?”
“I know where your father is.”
Her heart stopped.
“Where?”
“He contacted me.”
“How?”
“A letter.”
“Where is he?”
Adrian looked at her.
“He wants to meet you.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Why?”
“He says he's dying.”
Clara's hands trembled.
“No.”
“Clara.”
“He can't.”
“Why?”
“Because people who are dying don't send threats through photographs.”
Adrian nodded.
“You're right.”
“Then who sent it?”
“We don't know.”
Silence.
Adrian's phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He turned the phone toward her.
A photograph had been sent.
Daniel Hayes.
Standing in a hospital room.
Alive.
May you like
And behind him stood Victor Moretti.
Adrian's uncle.
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