Chapter 5 - THE RECORDING MATTEO NEVER HEARD
The recording was thirty-one minutes long.
Carlo Ricci’s voice appeared twenty-four years younger.
Lucia’s voice shook.
She had recorded conversation secretly after warehouse fire.
Carlo:
“You're dead now.”
Lucia:
“I’m standing here.”
“To Matteo, you're dead.”
“You can't keep my son.”
“He's a Ricci.”
“He’s my son.”
“He’ll believe what I tell him.”
Lucia cried.
“I’ll go to police.”
“And tell them what? That Vittorio burned warehouse while you were collecting stolen account books?”
Silence.
She had been committing theft of criminal records—not innocent.
Carlo:
“You take Matteo, I tell Moretti where Maria lives.”
There.
He threatened Maria too.
Lucia:
“Leave my sister alone.”
“Then disappear.”
Then worst:
“I'll tell Matteo you ran because you hated him.”
Lucia:
“He'll know.”
“No. Children believe whoever stays.”
That sentence destroyed room.
Lucia had preserved tape.
Never given Matteo.
Why?
“I thought Carlo would kill him if he knew.”
Carlo died eight years ago.
“After?”
“I was afraid Matteo would never forgive me for waiting.”
Noah said:
“So you waited more.”
She cried.
Exactly.
Fear compounds.
FBI negotiator advised use recording to open communication.
Matteo called again.
Lucia answered.
“Matteo.”
“You brought Elena?”
“No.”
“Then Celeste dies.”
“You don't want that.”
“You don't know what I want.”
“I know what your father wanted you to believe.”
Silence.
“What?”
“I have his voice.”
“You're lying.”
“I lied by staying away. I’m not lying now.”
She played twenty seconds.
Carlo saying:
Children believe whoever stays.
Matteo hung up.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Then he called.
His voice different.
“Where did you get that?”
“I recorded him.”
“You had this all along?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you show me?”
There was accusation worse than hatred.
Lucia answered truth.
“Because I was a coward.”
Everyone froze.
No justification.
“I was afraid you'd hate your father. Then after he died, I was afraid you'd hate me for waiting. So I kept waiting.”
Matteo whispered:
“You let me hate Maria.”
“Yes.”
“She died thinking I hated her.”
“Yes.”
“You let me think you chose her over me.”
“Yes.”
He began crying.
Then rage.
“You don't get to come back now.”
“I know.”
That answer mattered.
“You don't get to call yourself my mother.”
“I know.”
“You don't get my forgiveness.”
“I know.”
Silence.
Then:
“What do you want?”
“For Celeste to live.”
“Why?”
“She betrayed Elena.”
“Yes.”
“And that doesn't mean she deserves death.”
Long pause.
Matteo:
“You sound like Maria.”
Lucia cried.
“I wish I had.”
Call ended.
FBI traced enough to narrow warehouse district.
Operation followed.
We waited.
No hero mafia assault.
Adrian remained beside me, visibly fighting instinct.
“I can get people there faster.”
“Don't.”
“I know.”
He clenched jaw.
Forty-three minutes later call:
Celeste recovered alive.
Matteo escaped through secondary route.
Of course.
But investigators found blood, phone, documents.
And notebook.
Matteo’s plan.
Not just trust.
He intended provoke Moretti-Ricci violence, then leverage chaos to consolidate smaller crews.
Fake engagement was propaganda.
I was symbol.
Adrian’s imagined weakness.
Disputed bride.
Old DeLuca alliance.
Elegant nonsense with real bodies potential.
Authorities issued federal warrants.
Matteo became fugitive.
Lucia wanted go public.
Adrian advised carefully.
She chose interview through attorney.
She revealed alive status, family coercion, Carlo recording, trust dispute, and asked son surrender.
Media frenzy.
I became headline.
BOSTON EVENT PLANNER AT CENTER OF MAFIA DYNASTY FEUD
My career indeed exploded.
Celeste’s company collapsed after her arrest.
I lost job.
Fine.
At least alive.
Then something unexpected.
Clients called.
Some sympathetic.
One bride:
“You stopped a mafia war?”
“No.”
“Can you still do October?”
Apparently weddings survive everything.
I started own event firm months later.
Not now.
For now, security.
Adrian’s fake engagement became public fact impossible retract without increasing vulnerability.
His attorneys released statement:
Mr. Moretti and Ms. Brooks are not legally engaged. Earlier characterization was made during an active security threat.
The internet loved.
Memes.
“Accidental mafia fiancée.”
I wanted disappear.
Adrian found me in estate kitchen doomscrolling.
“Stop.”
“People think we had secret wedding.”
“That one is funny.”
“No.”
He sat.
“You can leave Belladonna.”
“Can I?”
“Yes.”
“Security says no.”
“Security advises no. I say choice.”
Important.
I stayed.
Not for him.
For Noah safer with centralized protection, and Lucia temporarily housed secure.
At dinner Serafina watched us.
“What?”
She smiled.
“Nothing.”
“You're matchmaking.”
“I am observing.”
“Stop.”
She turned to Adrian.
“She gives orders.”
“I noticed.”
Then family dinner became battlefield of secrets.
Serafina confessed she knew Maria was intended for Giovanni.
Adrian angry she never told.
Lucia angry Serafina didn't stop Vittorio.
Serafina:
“I was wife in house where men made decisions.”
Lucia:
“You had money.”
Serafina:
“Not freedom.”
Lucia:
“Neither did we.”
Both true.
Women harmed within systems and sometimes helped maintain.
No simple innocence.
I watched Adrian.
“You grew up with this?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you normal?”
He raised brow.
“I’m not.”
Fair.
Then Marco brought news.
Matteo contacted one person.
Noah.
My brother received voicemail.
Not threat.
Apology?
He played:
“Elena’s brother. I didn't know about you until recently. Maria protected you better than Lucia protected me.”
Then:
“Tell Elena I’m done with old men’s war.”
We relaxed too soon.
Final line:
“But Adrian Moretti still owes my family blood.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
Matteo had separated me from vengeance.
Good.
But now Adrian target remained.
Why?
Vittorio’s warehouse fire killed worker who was Matteo’s uncle? Perhaps.
Matteo wanted Adrian pay father’s sin.
I looked at him.
“You're not going anywhere alone.”
He almost smiled.
“That sounded possessive.”
“I can learn bad habits.”
Then an explosion sounded far outside.
Windows shook.
No one injured? A vehicle at outer gate detonated, abandoned.
Message.
War.
Adrian stood.
The man from bedroom disappeared.
Boss emerged.
“Marco, lock estate. Call—”
He stopped.
Looked at me.
Then:
“Call the police and federal task force.”
Serafina looked surprised.
Adrian:
“What?”
She smiled.
“Your father would hate this.”
“Good.”
That was first time I saw him choose future over inherited rules.
May you like
And maybe that was when fake engagement began becoming something much more dangerous.
Real feeling.
