Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
The video began with the sound of drilling.
Heavy construction equipment filled the screen.
Men in hard hats moved through a half-finished underground parking structure.
Then the camera turned.
My father appeared.
Healthy.
Younger.
Holding a rolled set of blueprints.
Beside him stood a tall man with dark hair and sharp features.
Roman froze.
"That's impossible."
I looked at him.
"Who is it?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached toward the screen.
The man in the video turned his head.
For the first time, I saw his face clearly.
He looked like Roman.
Not exactly.
But close enough to make my stomach tighten.
"Roman?"
His voice came out hoarse.
"My older brother."
I stared.
"You have a brother?"
"Had."
"What happened?"
Roman looked away.
"Gabriel Costa died twelve years ago."
I glanced at the footage.
"Then when was this filmed?"
Dominic checked the timestamp.
"Eleven years and eight months ago."
Silence filled the room.
If the timestamp was accurate, Gabriel had been alive four months after his supposed death.
Roman sank into a chair.
For the first time since I'd met him, the powerful mafia boss looked completely lost.
"My family buried him."
His voice was barely audible.
"I carried his coffin."
I didn't know what to say.
Dominic continued examining the video.
My father and Gabriel appeared to be arguing.
Gabriel pointed toward the blueprints.
My father shook his head.
Then another man entered the frame.
Preston's father.
Charles Hayes.
I recognized him from old photographs.
He'd died two years before Preston and I started dating.
Or at least, that was what everyone believed.
In the footage, Charles handed Gabriel a folder.
Gabriel opened it.
His expression changed.
Then he grabbed my father's arm and pulled him toward the camera.
The recording suddenly ended.
Roman leaned forward.
"Replay the last ten seconds."
Dominic did.
Again.
And again.
Then Roman noticed something.
A symbol printed on the folder Charles Hayes carried.
Three silver lines beneath a black crown.
Roman's face turned white.
"What is that?" I asked.
He stared at the screen.
"The Black Crown."
I frowned.
"What's the Black Crown?"
Roman slowly looked at me.
"A private organization that once controlled illegal financial operations through construction companies."
"And?"
"My brother spent years trying to destroy it."
My heart hammered.
"Did he succeed?"
Roman shook his head.
"No."
Then he looked back at Gabriel's face.
"Because someone inside our family betrayed him."
My phone suddenly rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice spoke.
"Sloan Whitmore?"
"Yes?"
"Your father is alive."
I gripped the phone.
"Where is he?"
The man laughed softly.
"Ask Roman Costa what happened beneath Halcyon Tower."
Then the call ended.
Seconds later, a photograph appeared.
My father.
Alive.
Sitting in a wheelchair.
Behind him stood a man wearing a black coat.
His face was hidden.
But on his hand was a silver ring.
Three lines beneath a crown.
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And Roman whispered:
"That's Gabriel's ring."
