Chapter 10 - The Night My Father DiedElena's impossible confessionI stared at Elena.
“You killed my father?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
I remembered that night.
My father had been found dead in his study.
I had been told it was a heart attack.
He had no enemies capable of reaching him.
No sign of forced entry.
No blood.
Nothing suspicious.
Only a locked room.
I looked at Elena.
“How?”
She handed me the brass key.
“He wasn't alone.”
She walked to the fireplace.
“There was a hidden room behind this wall.”
She inserted the key.
A section of paneling clicked.
The wall opened.
Inside was a narrow chamber.
A chair.
A desk.
A camera.
And one old recording device.
I pressed play.
My father's voice filled the room.
“If you're hearing this, Elena failed.”
I froze.
He sounded alive.
Not from a memory.
From a recording made that night.
“She thinks she killed me.”
Elena lowered her head.
My father's voice continued.
“She only killed the man wearing my face.”
My blood turned to ice.
The recording showed a photograph.
My father had a twin brother.
Viktor Moretti.
The family had erased his existence decades ago.
I turned toward Elena.
“You killed Viktor.”
She nodded.
“My father had already been dead for months.”
I stared.
“So the man I knew…”
“Was Viktor.”
I couldn't breathe.
“My entire childhood…”
“Was built around a lie.”
She wiped her tears.
“Your real father died before you knew him.”
I stepped back.
“Then who raised me?”
“Viktor.”
I felt sick.
“He manipulated every part of your life.”
“And my brothers?”
“He wanted five sons because he believed the empire would survive only if there were multiple heirs he could control.”
“What happened six years ago?”
Elena looked at the floor.
“I discovered the truth.”
“And?”
“I confronted him.”
She swallowed.
“He threatened the babies.”
I clenched my fists.
“So you killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you leave me?”
“Because Viktor had already arranged for men to kill you.”
She looked at me.
“I made them believe you were involved in his murder.”
I stared.
“That protected me?”
“It made everyone believe you were dangerous enough to leave alone.”
I shook my head.
“That's insane.”
“I know.”
A sound came from downstairs.
One of the boys screamed.
I ran.
The living room was empty.
The boys were gone.
Elena followed.
The front doors stood open.
On the floor was a single red envelope.
I opened it.
You have one hour.
Bring the woman who killed Viktor.
Bring all five boys.
Or Boston learns who Dominic Moretti really is.
Inside was a photograph.
Me.
At eight years old.
Standing beside a man I had never seen before.
The back was marked:
YOUR REAL FATHER.
I looked at Elena.
“Who is this?”
She stared at the photograph.
Her face collapsed.
“That's not your father.”
“Then who?”
She whispered:
“That's the man who kidnapped me six years ago.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who?”
May you like
She looked toward the door.
“The president of the Barrett family.”
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