Chapter 3 - Damian’s Uncle Revealed That Andrew Had Died Protecting Martha From a Secret Their Father Had Buried for Twenty YearsLucian Falcone stood in the dark hallway.
He looked nothing like Damian expected.
Older.
Tired.
Not monstrous.
Just sad.
“You're alive,” Damian said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father saved me.”
Damian's gun remained raised.
“Start talking.”
Lucian looked at Martha.
“You're Andrew's sister.”
“Yes.”
“He was a good man.”
“Then why did he die?”
Lucian lowered his eyes.
“Because he found the ledger.”
Damian held up the book.
“This?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“Not money.”
“Then what?”
“Names.”
“Whose?”
“Everyone who ever bought influence through the Falcone organization.”
Martha looked at the pages.
“Judges?”
“Yes.”
“Police?”
“Yes.”
“Politicians?”
“Yes.”
“And my brother?”
“Your brother was trying to destroy it.”
Damian stared.
“Why didn't he come to me?”
“Because he did.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
Damian's expression changed.
“I never saw him.”
Lucian nodded.
“Because someone intercepted him.”
“Who?”
Lucian looked at Martha.
“The person closest to you.”
Damian's blood chilled.
“Victor.”
Lucian nodded.
“But Victor isn't the mastermind.”
“Then who?”
Lucian whispered:
“Your mother.”
Silence.
Damian's face went empty.
“My mother is dead.”
“No.”
Martha stared.
Lucian continued.
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“Twenty-four years ago.”
Damian remembered.
He had been thirteen.
His mother supposedly died in a car explosion.
His father had told him not to ask questions.
Now Lucian was saying she was alive.
“Where?”
“She has been living under another name.”
Damian's voice became cold.
“What name?”
Lucian said:
“Isabella Renzi.”
Martha's eyes widened.
“Renzi.”
Damian realized it.
Victor Renzi.
His chief of security.
Victor was her son.
Damian had trusted him for twenty years.
“My mother?”
Lucian nodded.
“She built the organization you inherited.”
Martha stared at Damian.
His entire face had changed.
“You're saying my mother is behind this?”
“No.”
Lucian stepped closer.
“I'm saying your mother created the system.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
Damian laughed bitterly.
“By turning Boston into a battlefield?”
“She believed fear was the only way to keep you alive.”
Martha shook her head.
“That's what every criminal says.”
Lucian looked at her.
“Your brother didn't believe that.”
He pulled another photograph from his coat.
Andrew.
Damian's mother.
And Victor.
They were standing together.
Andrew looked angry.
Damian's mother looked determined.
Victor looked young.
On the back:
THE THREE KEEPERS.
Lucian continued.
“Your mother gave Andrew the ledger.”
“Why?”
“Because she wanted him to destroy it.”
Damian stared.
“Then why was Victor trying to stop him?”
“Because Victor believed destroying the ledger would expose everyone.”
Martha interrupted.
“Expose them to who?”
“The government.”
Damian looked at her.
“And?”
Lucian said:
“People with no reason to forgive.”
Martha shook her head.
“So everyone was protecting themselves.”
Lucian nodded.
“That's what the empire became.”
Damian lowered his gun.
“Where is my mother?”
Lucian looked at him.
“Near.”
“Where?”
“She's been watching you.”
“That's not an answer.”
Lucian smiled sadly.
“She knows everything.”
“About me?”
“About you.”
The lights went out.
A gunshot shattered the window.
Lucian shoved Martha to the floor.
Damian fired toward the window.
Then another shot.
Lucian collapsed.
Martha screamed.
Damian caught him.
“Stay with me.”
Lucian laughed weakly.
“You always were your mother's son.”
“Where is she?”
Lucian grabbed his coat.
“Hospital.”
“Which one?”
He whispered the name.
Then his eyes closed.
Martha looked at Damian.
“We have to go.”
Damian nodded.
But before they could move, a phone rang.
Lucian's.
Damian answered.
A woman's voice said:
“Bring Martha.”
Damian froze.
“Who is this?”
“You know.”
The call ended.
Martha whispered:
“Your mother.”
They drove to the hospital.
The building was heavily guarded.
Too heavily.
Damian knew immediately.
It was a trap.
They entered anyway.
On the seventh floor, Victor waited.
His weapon was lowered.
“Martha.”
She stepped behind Damian.
“Don't.”
Victor looked at Damian.
“I'm sorry.”
Damian raised his gun.
“You betrayed me.”
Victor nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was protecting my mother.”
“Your mother?”
Victor swallowed.
“Isabella.”
Damian's hand tightened.
“Where is she?”
Victor pointed toward a room.
“Inside.”
Damian opened the door.
An older woman lay in the hospital bed.
Gray hair.
Pale face.
But unmistakably familiar.
His mother.
She looked at him.
“Damian.”
He stopped breathing.
She smiled.
“My son.”
He stood frozen.
Twenty-four years of grief collapsed into one moment.
“Why?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because your father was going to kill you.”
Damian stepped closer.
“Then why did everyone die?”
She whispered:
“Because I was too late.”
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Then she looked at Martha.
“And because Andrew died for her.”
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