Chapter 19 - The Last Name in the BookMichael revealed the truth.
My father had not been my biological father.
He had raised me because my real father was too dangerous.
A man whose name appeared in the black book.
The founder of the organization behind every war between the city's criminal families.
A ghost.
A man believed dead for twenty years.
His name was Victor Vale.
Dante stared at the documents.
“Impossible.”
Michael smiled.
“Your father worked for him.”
“So did mine?”
“Yes.”
“And Isabella?”
“She escaped.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
Michael turned toward me.
“Your mother left you the empire because she knew Victor would return.”
“Why me?”
“Because you are his only surviving heir.”
My heart hammered.
“No.”
Michael laughed.
“That's why everyone wanted you invisible.”
Dante looked at me.
“That's why they came after you.”
“That's why you were targeted.”
“That's why the glass was planted.”
Michael nodded.
“And that's why Matteo was taken.”
Dante's face became murderous.
“You used my son.”
“To bring her here.”
“Why?”
“To activate the inheritance.”
Michael pulled a small key from his pocket.
The same symbol as the family crest.
He tossed it onto the floor.
“This opens the final vault.”
Dante stared.
“What is in it?”
Michael smiled.
“Everything.”
Then the building shook.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Victor Vale's men.
Michael stepped backward.
“You have ten minutes.”
“To do what?”
“Choose.”
He looked at me.
“Take the empire.”
Then at Dante.
“Or burn it.”
Michael disappeared through the exit.
Dante looked at me.
“I don't want the empire.”
“Then burn it.”
“What about you?”
“I'll burn it with you.”
He smiled.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is.”
He took my hand.
We ran.
The final vault contained records of every crime, every betrayal, every secret.
Dante found explosives.
I opened the book.
There was one final page.
A name.
Not Victor.
Not Michael.
Not Dante.
Mine.
Under it, written in my mother's handwriting:
When she sees this, she will know why she was chosen.
Then the vault door slammed shut.
A voice came through the speaker.
My father's.
“You have five minutes.”
I looked at Dante.
“Where is he?”
“He's outside.”
“Then we finish this.”
The countdown began.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Dante pulled me close.
“If we don't get out…”
“Don't.”
“I need to say it.”
His forehead touched mine.
“I love you.”
I swallowed my tears.
“I love you too.”
Two.
One.
May you like
Then the lights went out.
And a gunshot echoed from the other side of the vault.
