Chapter 4 - The Boy They Came ForWe reached the restaurant in less than three minutes.
It felt like three hours.
Ricardo moved first.
His men surrounded him.
I followed because I couldn’t stop thinking about Sofia’s recording.
Trust my daughter.
The restaurant was dark.
Broken glass covered the floor.
Tables were overturned.
The kitchen door swung open.
“Leo!” Ricardo shouted.
Nothing.
His face changed.
“Find him.”
Guards spread through the building.
I heard a faint sound upstairs.
A child's voice.
“Clara.”
I ran.
Ricardo shouted my name.
I didn't stop.
I found Leo hiding inside a storage room.
He was curled behind a stack of boxes.
When he saw me, he ran into my arms.
I held him tightly.
“You’re safe.”
He grabbed my shirt.
“Mommy said.”
“What did she say?”
“Hide.”
“Where?”
He pointed toward the basement.
Ricardo appeared behind me.
“What’s in the basement?”
Leo started crying.
I looked at Ricardo.
“We have to go.”
The basement smelled of dust and old wood.
Ricardo pulled out a flashlight.
The walls were lined with shelves.
At the far end was a steel door.
Locked.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Old storage.”
Leo stepped toward the door.
He put his hand against it.
“Mommy.”
Ricardo froze.
“She used to bring you here?”
Leo nodded.
Ricardo tried the handle.
Locked.
One of his guards brought bolt cutters.
The door opened.
Inside was a small room.
There was a chair.
A table.
And dozens of photographs.
I stepped inside.
Photos of Sofia.
Photos of Ricardo.
Photos of Leo.
And photos of me.
Taken years ago.
My skin prickled.
“I don't understand.”
Ricardo picked one up.
It showed me as a child.
Standing beside my father.
And beside him was Sofia.
Ricardo looked at me.
“You knew her.”
“I don't remember.”
The next photograph made my stomach drop.
Sofia was holding baby me.
On the back was written:
My little girl.
I shook my head.
“No.”
Ricardo said nothing.
I stepped backward.
“My mother died when I was born.”
“Who told you?”
“My father.”
Ricardo stared at the photograph.
Then he found another.
This one showed Sofia standing beside a man.
My father.
Daniel.
But behind them stood Ricardo’s older brother, Matteo.
Ricardo’s eyes hardened.
“Matteo.”
“Who is he?”
“My brother.”
“You said he died.”
“He did.”
I looked at the photo again.
“Then why is there one from three years ago?”
Ricardo said nothing.
The answer came from the doorway.
“Because he isn’t dead.”
We all turned.
A man stood there.
Older.
Scar across his cheek.
Cold eyes.
Leo screamed.
“Uncle Matteo.”
Ricardo raised his gun.
“You're alive.”
Matteo smiled.
“Disappointed?”
Ricardo stepped forward.
“You killed Sofia.”
“No.”
Matteo looked at me.
“She killed herself.”
“That’s impossible.”
Matteo laughed.
“You still don't understand.”
He pointed toward me.
“She betrayed us.”
My voice trembled.
“Who am I?”
Matteo looked at Leo.
Then at Ricardo.
Then back at me.
“You're the reason Sofia disappeared.”
I couldn't breathe.
Matteo continued.
“Twenty-four years ago, Sofia found out the Moretti family had a secret.”
“What secret?”
Matteo smiled.
“She gave birth to twins.”
Ricardo turned pale.
“One of them was Clara.”
I shook my head.
“And the other?”
Matteo's smile widened.
“Is standing right behind you.”
A gunshot exploded.
Everyone ducked.
When I looked up, Matteo was gone.
And Ricardo was staring at Leo.
May you like
Not like a father.
Like a man who had just realized his entire family history was a lie.
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