Chapter 12 - The Poisoned Pawn|
The static from the tiny cassette tape player hummed softly in the cold vault.
"Matteo..." Isabella’s recorded voice whispered through the small speaker. "She has your eyes. She has your temper. Keep her safe from your father. She is the only good thing we ever made."
The recording clicked off. Silence fell over the concrete room, heavy and absolute.
Elena felt as if the room were spinning. She backed away until her shoulders hit the cold steel wall. She stared at Matteo—the man who had pointed a gun at her, the man who lived in shadows, the man who ran a syndicate.
"No," Elena whispered, shaking her head. "No... my father died when I was a baby. My mother told me—"
"She lied to protect you," Matteo said softly, his voice rough and cracking. He took a slow step toward her, dropping his gun to the floor as if it had suddenly burned his hand. "Elena..."
"Don't touch me!" Elena shouted, tears spilling down her cheeks. "All my life, I thought I was just a normal girl! I worked forty hours a week! I saved my pennies! And my whole life is just a lie between mobsters and murderers!"
"You're not a lie," Matteo said gently, stopping two feet away from her. "You are the reason she kept running. You are the reason I never married, why I never gave my father an heir."
Before Elena could speak, heavy footsteps thundered down the concrete stairs behind them.
Don Carmine stepped into the doorway, supported by two armed guards, a cold smirk plastered across his wrinkled face.
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"How dramatic," Carmine sneered, looking around the small vault. "The long-lost daughter. The tragic father. It almost makes me want to cry."
Carmine pointed his golden cane directly at Matteo’s chest. "Step away from the ledger, son. It's time to end this family drama."
