Chapter 519: Family

Chapter 519: Family
Chapter 519: Family

The Moretti estate stood at the edge of the city like a monument to everything Dante had spent years trying to escape.

Tonight, every window was dark.

Dante parked several blocks away. He killed the engine and looked toward the distant gates.

“Too quiet,” Isabella said.

“Exactly.”

Marco sat in the back seat, his wounded shoulder bandaged.

“Adrian knows we're coming.”

Dante nodded.

“That means he wants us there.”

Isabella reached across the console and took his hand.

“Then we don't give him what he wants.”

Dante looked at her.

“You're getting good at this.”

“At what?”

“Being a Moretti.”

She smiled faintly.

“I'd rather be Isabella.”

“You're still Isabella.”

“Good.”

Dante squeezed her fingers.

“Stay close.”

“I will.”

They left the car and moved through the shadows. The old estate rose beyond the iron fence. Dante remembered running through those grounds as a child, never understanding why armed men stood at every entrance.

His father had called it protection.

Now Dante knew it had been fear.

Marco found a gap in the fence.

They slipped through.

The front door was unlocked.

Dante stopped.

“That's wrong.”

Isabella looked at him.

“Very wrong.”

He raised his weapon.

They entered.

The foyer looked exactly as Dante remembered. Marble floors. Dark wood. The enormous staircase where his father had once stood waiting whenever Dante came home late.

Isabella whispered, “Where would your father hide something important?”

Dante looked around.

“Somewhere nobody would search.”

Marco pointed toward the study.

“Your father spent most of his time there.”

They entered the study.

Dust covered the desk.

Dante walked to the bookshelves.

He remembered his father keeping one particular book separate from the others.

He pulled it free.

Nothing.

He frowned.

“Maybe I'm remembering wrong.”

Isabella ran her fingers along the shelves.

“Wait.”

She stopped.

“There.”

A thin line appeared between two wooden panels.

Dante pressed it.

A section of the bookshelf moved inward.

Behind it was a narrow staircase.

Marco stared.

“I never knew that existed.”

Dante looked at him.

“My father trusted very few people.”

They descended.

The air became colder.

At the bottom was a steel door.

No handle.

Dante examined the keypad.

“Six digits.”

Isabella looked at him.

“Birthday?”

“No.”

“Your father's?”

“No.”

“Your mother's?”

Dante stared at the numbers.

Then he remembered the photograph.

His father had written three words on the back.

He is everything.

Dante entered his own birthday.

The lock clicked.

Isabella exhaled.

“That's almost too easy.”

“No.”

Dante opened the door.

“It means my father wanted me to find it.”

Inside was a small vault.

At the center sat a metal box.

Dante approached slowly.

His hands trembled as he opened it.

Inside was a thick black ledger.

No name.

No label.

Just hundreds of handwritten entries.

Payments.

Names.

Dates.

Orders.

Dante turned the first page.

Adrian Vale appeared immediately.

Below his name were dozens of people.

Judges.

Police chiefs.

Bankers.

Politicians.

Business owners.

And beneath them were transactions linking them directly to murders, weapons shipments, drug routes, and disappearances.

Isabella stared.

“This could destroy him.”

“It could destroy half the city.”

Marco stepped closer.

“Your father spent years collecting this.”

Dante turned another page.

Then he stopped.

There was a section marked with his mother's name.

Isabella moved beside him.

“What does it say?”

Dante read silently.

His face changed.

“What?”

“My mother didn't betray Adrian.”

Marco frowned.

“What?”

Dante handed him the ledger.

“She stole from him.”

Marco read the entry.

Adrian had discovered that Dante's mother had secretly redirected millions of dollars from his criminal network into accounts used to protect witnesses and families.

“She was fighting him,” Isabella whispered.

Dante nodded.

“She wasn't helping Adrian.”

Marco looked stunned.

“She was helping your father.”

Dante turned another page.

His father's name appeared beside hers.

Together, they had been dismantling Adrian's network from inside.

Then came the final entry.

Dante read it aloud.

“Operation Blackwater. If discovered, eliminate Moretti family. Recover ledger. Locate surviving witnesses.”

Isabella looked at him.

“Blackwater.”

“The pier.”

“Yes.”

Dante understood.

“The warehouse wasn't a meeting place.”

“It was a trap.”

Marco nodded.

“He wanted you to find Clara there.”

Dante looked at the ledger.

“And he wanted us to think he was after this.”

Isabella frowned.

“Isn't he?”

Dante turned the final page.

There was a note written in his father's handwriting.

The ledger is not the weapon. The witnesses are.

Dante stared.

“Witnesses?”

Marco stepped closer.

“People who survived.”

“Where are they?”

Dante turned the page.

A list followed.

Six names.

Six locations.

Then one name was crossed out.

Clara.

Isabella pointed.

“Why is hers crossed out?”

A voice answered from behind them.

“Because she's already dead.”

Everyone spun.

Adrian stood in the doorway.

His gun was aimed directly at Dante.

Two men stood behind him.

Adrian smiled.

“You finally found it.”

Dante raised his weapon.

“You're not getting it.”

Adrian laughed.

“I don't need the ledger.”

Dante's eyes narrowed.

“You need the witnesses.”

“Exactly.”

Adrian stepped inside.

“For twenty years, your father believed evidence could destroy me. He was wrong.”

“You killed him.”

“No.”

Adrian's smile disappeared.

“Your father chose his death.”

Dante's jaw tightened.

“You manipulated him.”

“I gave him a choice.”

“What choice?”

“His life or yours.”

Dante went still.

Adrian looked at Isabella.

“And your mother made the same mistake.”

Isabella raised her weapon.

“Don't talk about my mother.”

Adrian smiled.

“You still don't know what happened to her.”

Dante looked at Isabella.

“She's alive?”

Adrian shrugged.

“Perhaps.”

Isabella's breathing changed.

“Where is she?”

“You want answers?”

“Yes.”

“Bring me the ledger.”

Dante stepped forward.

“No.”

Adrian's men raised their weapons.

Marco fired first.

The room exploded into gunfire.

Dante grabbed Isabella and pulled her behind the vault wall.

Bullets struck the steel door.

Marco fired again.

One of Adrian's men fell.

“Run!” Marco shouted.

Dante grabbed the ledger.

He and Isabella sprinted toward the staircase.

Adrian shouted behind them.

“You can't save everyone, Dante!”

Dante stopped for half a second.

He turned.

“Yes, I can.”

Then he pulled Isabella through the hidden passage.

They raced upstairs.

The estate erupted with gunfire behind them.

Isabella clutched his arm.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere Adrian can't follow.”

“Where?”

Dante looked at the ledger.

“To find the six witnesses.”

“And Clara?”

Dante's expression hardened.

“If she's alive, we find her too.”

They reached the front entrance.

Outside, headlights appeared.

More cars.

Dante pulled Isabella toward the side garden.

They climbed the wall and disappeared into the darkness.

Behind them, Adrian stood inside the estate, watching them escape.

He wasn't angry.

He was smiling.

Because Dante had taken the ledger.

And Adrian had expected him to.

The real game had finally begun.