Chapter 7 - THE MURDER THAT BUILT MY EMPIRE
My father died when I was twenty-two.
Antonio Moretti.
The man who taught me loyalty.
The man who told me betrayal deserved punishment.
The man whose murder turned a grieving young son into a ruthless crime boss.
For twenty years, I'd believed the Vescari family ordered his death.
I built alliances around that belief.
Destroyed relationships.
Started feuds.
And justified terrible decisions by telling myself I was avenging my father.
Now Lucia Romano was claiming the story was false.
I needed to know why.
Through her independent patient advocate, Lucia agreed to speak with investigators.
She didn't want to meet me yet.
I respected that.
Her recorded statement described events from nineteen years earlier.
She had been fifteen.
Working part-time in the office of the Saint Catherine's foundation.
One evening, she overheard an argument.
Antonio Moretti.
Marco Bellini.
Carlo Russo.
And Richard Salvatore.
My father's closest friend.
The men were arguing about stolen charitable funds.
Antonio had discovered money was disappearing from accounts intended for children receiving medical treatment.
He threatened to report the theft.
The others tried to stop him.
According to Lucia, the meeting ended with Marco saying:
"If Antonio goes to the authorities, none of us survives."
My jaw tightened.
Then Lucia described what happened next.
She saw Richard Salvatore place a phone call.
Later that night, Antonio was attacked outside a warehouse.
The official investigation blamed the Vescari family.
But Lucia believed Richard arranged the murder.
She couldn't prove it at the time.
And when she tried to tell Isabella, someone intercepted her.
Days later, Lucia disappeared.
I sat motionless.
Richard Salvatore.
The man who'd helped carry my father's coffin.
The man who'd called me son.
The man who still controlled several of my shipping businesses.
I'd spent twenty years hunting enemies while the man responsible sat beside me.
Rebecca watched my expression.
"Dante, I know what you're thinking."
I looked at her.
"No, you don't."
She waited.
Then I took a slow breath.
"I'm thinking about everything I did because I believed the wrong man."
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she nodded.
"That's worth thinking about."
The investigation continued.
Financial records showed unusual payments from Richard's companies shortly before Antonio's death.
A retired security contractor provided information about the warehouse attack.
Several records had been altered.
The evidence was serious.
But it needed to be examined properly.
For the first time, I didn't want a private execution.
I wanted the truth established in a way nobody could bury.
Then Gabriel entered the office carrying a letter.
"Boss, this arrived from Richard's attorney."
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of my father.
On the back were seven words.
ANTONIO KNEW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GIRL.
I stared.
"The girl?"
Rebecca looked toward the photograph.
Then her face changed.
"Dante, look at the date."
The photograph had been taken nineteen years earlier.
At Saint Catherine's.
Antonio stood beside a teenage Lucia.
And in the background was Isabella.
My future wife.
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Because the picture proved something I'd never imagined.
Isabella and my father knew each other before I ever met her.
