Chapter 9 - THE MAN AT TABLE TWELVE
Salvatore disappeared before sunrise.
His apartment was empty.
His phone disconnected.
His accounts drained.
Alessandro stood inside his office, staring at photographs spread across the desk.
I sat across from him.
Marco was safe upstairs under guard.
Elena had fallen asleep for the first time in almost two days.
Vincent Gallo was searching for Salvatore.
And I was discovering that exhaustion could become a personality.
“Why were you going to hit him?” I asked.
Alessandro looked up.
“The night we met?”
“Yes.”
His expression hardened.
“He stole from me.”
“Money?”
“I thought so.”
“And now?”
“Now I think he wanted me angry enough to react in public.”
I understood.
“To make you look unstable.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because six months ago, I started moving the organization away from illegal businesses.”
I stared.
“You're trying to go legitimate?”
His mouth curved.
“You sound disappointed.”
“I had a very clear villain image of you.”
“Sorry to ruin it.”
“You still threaten people.”
“Occasionally.”
“You almost hit someone with a glass.”
“In my defense—”
“There is no defense.”
He smiled.
Then his expression softened.
“You stopped me.”
“I did.”
“No one else would've.”
I looked down.
The air changed.
For the first time, we weren't discussing murder, lies, or missing relatives.
We were just two exhausted people in a quiet room.
“Why did you come back seven days later?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“You know why.”
“No.”
“I wanted to see you.”
My heart stumbled.
“Why?”
“Because you annoyed me.”
“That makes sense.”
“And because I hadn't stopped thinking about you.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
“Alessandro…”
“I know.”
He looked away.
“We almost found out we were related.”
“That would have been inconvenient.”
His mouth twitched.
“Very.”
I laughed despite myself.
Then his phone buzzed.
DNA results.
Everything inside me tightened.
He opened the report.
His eyes moved quickly.
Then he looked at me.
“Well?”
“You're not my sister.”
I exhaled.
A laugh escaped me.
Then I immediately felt guilty for being relieved.
“What does it say?”
He turned the screen.
No biological sibling relationship.
Further comparison with Elena showed no maternal relationship either.
But the lab had found something unexpected.
A partial match with DNA already stored in an old family database.
I frowned.
“Who?”
Alessandro scrolled.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“You're related to Salvatore.”
My stomach dropped.
“How?”
The report showed a high probability of paternal relationship.
I stared.
“No.”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“Salvatore is probably your biological father.”
I backed away from the desk.
“That doesn't make sense.”
Then I remembered the restaurant.
Salvatore's face when he saw me approach.
He hadn't only been afraid of Alessandro.
He'd stared at me.
Like he'd seen a ghost.
Alessandro grabbed his phone.
“Find him.”
Vincent Gallo answered immediately.
“We already did.”
“Where?”
“At St. Catherine's Church.”
I frowned.
“Why would he go there?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Because he requested a priest.”
My blood went cold.
Alessandro stood.
“Is he hurt?”
“Yes.”
We arrived ten minutes later.
Salvatore lay bleeding beside the church altar.
A priest knelt nearby.
I rushed forward.
Salvatore opened his eyes.
When he saw me, he began crying.
“Isabella.”
I stopped.
He reached toward me.
“My daughter.”
My chest tightened.
“Why?”
He tried to breathe.
“I tried to protect you.”
“By kidnapping Marco?”
His eyes widened.
“No.”
“Daniel worked for you.”
“He lied.”
Alessandro stepped closer.
“Who shot you?”
Salvatore's eyes shifted toward the church doors.
“Vincent.”
“Which Vincent?” I demanded.
Salvatore coughed.
“Gallo.”
Everything inside me froze.
Alessandro stared at his right-hand man, who stood twenty feet behind us.
May you like
Vincent Gallo slowly reached inside his coat.
And smiled.
