Chapter 14 - THE FINAL DEBT
Vincent came for Salvatore.
Not Alessandro.
Not me.
Salvatore.
He blamed him for everything.
For Sofia.
For Carlo.
For losing control.
For the evidence.
We learned that after Vincent called.
His voice came through Alessandro's phone.
“Bring Salvatore to the old Moretti house.”
Alessandro's expression hardened.
“He's recovering from surgery.”
“Then carry him.”
“You're finished, Vincent.”
Vincent laughed.
“I was finished the day Carlo chose everyone over me.”
Then he hung up.
Police surrounded the old estate before sunset.
A mansion abandoned for fifteen years.
The place where Alessandro had spent his childhood.
He stared at the building from inside an unmarked vehicle.
“You don't have to go in,” I said.
“Yes.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
I smiled faintly.
“Feels strange when someone else says it, doesn't it?”
Despite everything, he laughed.
Then his expression softened.
“I need to end this.”
“With the police.”
“Yes.”
“Not your fists.”
He glanced at me.
“You really do ruin everything.”
“I'm talented.”
Salvatore insisted on cooperating.
Police fitted him with a wire.
He entered the house under supervision.
Alessandro and I remained outside.
Vincent appeared in the main ballroom.
He looked exhausted.
Old.
Nothing like the terrifying man from the clinic.
Salvatore stood ten feet away.
“It didn't have to end this way.”
Vincent laughed.
“It ended years ago.”
“You hurt Sofia.”
“She chose you.”
“That wasn't her crime.”
“It was to me.”
My stomach turned.
Alessandro listened through the wire.
His jaw tightened.
Vincent continued.
“And Carlo.”
“What about him?”
“He looked at me like I was something rotten.”
“You murdered your brother.”
“Yes.”
The confession was clear.
Police officers exchanged looks.
Salvatore kept him talking.
“And Giovanni?”
Vincent smiled.
“He should've given me the child.”
My hands curled into fists.
Alessandro reached for mine.
A quiet reminder.
Choice.
Salvatore asked,
“Did you kill him?”
Vincent nodded.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Tears filled them.
Giovanni.
My father in every way that mattered.
Gone because he protected me.
Then Vincent suddenly looked toward the window.
His expression changed.
“He's wired.”
Police moved.
Vincent grabbed Salvatore.
A gun appeared.
Alessandro stood.
“No.”
I grabbed his arm.
“Let them do it.”
Inside, officers shouted.
Vincent dragged Salvatore toward the staircase.
Then Sofia's voice came through the ballroom.
“Vincent.”
Everything stopped.
She stepped from the hallway.
I hadn't known she'd entered.
Neither had Alessandro.
Vincent stared at her.
“Sofia.”
She stood calmly.
“You ruined enough lives.”
His gun lowered slightly.
“You survived.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She looked directly at him.
“Because you don't get to decide when my life ends.”
The words hit me hard.
Vincent's hand trembled.
Police moved.
He fired once.
The bullet hit the ceiling.
Officers tackled him.
Salvatore fell away.
Sofia remained standing.
Vincent screamed as they handcuffed him.
“You were mine!”
Sofia looked down at him.
“No.”
Her voice was calm.
“I was never yours.”
They carried him away.
The story that had begun decades earlier ended without revenge.
Without execution.
Without Alessandro becoming another version of the men before him.
Outside, I looked at him.
“You didn't go in.”
“No.”
“Was that difficult?”
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“I'm proud of you.”
He looked uncomfortable.
“Don't say that.”
“Why?”
“I don't know what to do with it.”
“You'll learn.”
He stepped closer.
“So what's next?”
I looked toward the city lights.
“Marco gets better.”
“Yes.”
“My mother learns how to be my mother.”
“Yes.”
“Salvatore earns whatever relationship I choose to give him.”
“Good.”
“And you?”
He looked at me.
“I spend the rest of my life annoying one waitress.”
I laughed.
“Ambitious.”
He reached into his coat.
My heart stopped.
“No.”
He smiled.
“Yes.”
He pulled out a small velvet box.
“Alessandro…”
Before he could open it, sirens sounded again.
A detective rushed toward us.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Alessandro turned.
“What?”
The detective looked at me.
“We found Giovanni Rossi's final letter.”
My heart stopped.
“Where?”
“In Vincent's private safe.”
He handed me a sealed envelope.
My name was written on the front.
May you like
And beneath it, one sentence.
For my daughter, when she finally knows the truth.
