Chapter 7 - I carried Elias into the hidden room.He was thinner than I expected.
Older.
Scarred.
But alive.
My brother.
The one everyone had erased.
The one I had forgotten.
For hours, I sat beside him.
When he woke, he stared at me.
“You look like him.”
“Father?”
“No.”
“Who?”
He swallowed.
“You.”
I didn't understand.
“Why did they tell me you were dead?”
“Because I asked them to.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid of what I knew.”
“What did you know?”
He looked at Beatrice.
“She's the one who saved me.”
I looked at Beatrice.
“How?”
Elias spoke slowly.
“Our father discovered the five families were planning something bigger than organized crime.”
“Bigger?”
“They wanted control of the city's entire financial infrastructure.”
I stared.
“Banks?”
“Banks, shipping, real estate, law enforcement, political campaigns.”
He coughed.
“Your father's ledger exposed all of it.”
“Then why didn't he release it?”
“Because someone in the family betrayed him.”
“Dominic.”
Elias shook his head.
“No.”
I froze.
“Who?”
“My mother.”
I stepped backward.
“You're lying.”
“She wasn't working for them.”
“Then why?”
“Because she thought she was protecting us.”
He closed his eyes.
“Mom made a deal.”
“With whom?”
“Victor Hale.”
The name sounded like poison.
“She traded information for our lives.”
“What information?”
“Your father's ledger.”
“Did Victor get it?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Elias looked at me.
“You did.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Father gave the ledger to you.”
“When?”
“The night he died.”
I tried to remember.
I was eighteen.
A storm.
My father had called me to his office.
I remembered him handing me something.
A black leather notebook.
I remembered him saying:
“Never let them take this.”
Then nothing.
I had forgotten the rest.
“Where is the notebook now?”
I whispered.
Elias smiled weakly.
“You've had it all along.”
My heart pounded.
I searched my memory.
Then I remembered.
My father had given me a notebook.
I had kept it in my bedroom.
For years.
After his death, I had carried it everywhere.
Until Dominic told me it was useless.
He had burned it.
Or so I believed.
I stood suddenly.
“Dominic.”
Elias nodded.
“He didn't burn it.”
“What did he do?”
“He copied it.”
“And the original?”
“He hid it.”
“Where?”
Elias looked at me.
“Inside your father's coffin.”
I laughed.
“The coffin was empty.”
“Exactly.”
I looked at Beatrice.
“The coffin.”
She nodded.
We rushed back to the cemetery.
The metal box was still there.
Elias insisted on coming.
We opened the box.
Inside was another compartment.
A black leather notebook.
My father's handwriting.
The original ledger.
I opened it.
The first pages contained names.
The middle pages contained operations.
The final pages contained something else.
Photographs.
One after another.
Dominic.
Victor.
My mother.
Luca.
Elias.
And me.
I turned the page.
The final photograph showed me at eighteen.
Standing beside my father.
On the back:
ADRIAN DOESN'T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT.
Then a second line:
BUT LUCA DOES.
I looked at Elias.
“Where is Luca?”
He went silent.
“Elias.”
My brother's face tightened.
“He's not our brother.”
I stared.
“What?”
“He isn't Antonio's son.”
The world seemed to tilt.
“Then who is he?”
Elias whispered:
“Victor's.”
I felt sick.
“Luca was planted in our family.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“To inherit everything.”
Before I could answer, headlights appeared beyond the cemetery gate.
Three black SUVs.
Men got out.
Dominic stepped into the snow.
He smiled.
“Adrian.”
My hand moved toward my gun.
He shook his head.
“You finally found the ledger.”
Then he pointed toward Elias.
“But you still haven't found the real secret.”
He raised a folder.
Inside was a birth certificate.
He held it up.
“Your father didn't have three sons.”
May you like
He smiled.
“He had four.”
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