Chapter 3 - THE MAN INSIDE ALESSANDRO’S WALLS
Tomas Greco had worked for Alessandro for eleven years.
That fact made the room colder.
Ella remembered him.
Quiet.
Gray suits.
Forgettable face.
Exactly the kind of man who became useful by never drawing attention to himself.
During her marriage, Tomas had occasionally stood behind Alessandro at public events.
He had once arranged emergency transportation when Ella’s mother was hospitalized.
He had sent flowers after the funeral.
For two years, he had supervised the security teams quietly tracking Ella’s movements.
And he had known Lily existed.
Alessandro had not.
“Call him,” Alessandro said.
Dante shook his head.
“Phone is off.”
“House?”
“Empty.”
“Wife?”
“Divorced five years.”
“Children?”
“None.”
“Accounts?”
“Being checked.”
Ella stared at Alessandro.
“You really didn’t know?”
His head turned slowly.
The question hurt him.
Good.
She hated herself for thinking that.
Then he answered.
“No.”
“How could your people watch me for two years without telling you I had a baby?”
“I ordered location reports.”
“What?”
“City.”
“Building security.”
“Threat observations.”
“I specifically told Tomas I did not want personal reports.”
Ella stared.
“Why?”
“Because I knew if I started reading about who you were with, what you were doing, whether you seemed happy…”
He stopped.
Her chest tightened.
Alessandro looked away.
“I would find a reason to contact you.”
That answer was painfully human.
“I told him only to contact me if you were in danger.”
“And he obeyed?”
“No.”
His face hardened.
“He used my order to hide Lily.”
Dante placed a tablet on the table.
“We pulled archived summaries.”
Ella moved closer.
Weekly reports.
Milwaukee.
Madison.
Oak Park.
EVB secure.
No direct threat.
Residence camera operational.
Subject changed employment.
Carlo-linked vehicle observed, neutralized.
No mention of pregnancy.
No mention of childbirth.
No Lily.
Ella’s stomach turned.
“How did nobody report a toddler?”
Alessandro answered.
“The agents weren’t all mine.”
“The woman downstairs?”
“Gabriella Sloan.”
“Former FBI.”
“She sent reports to Tomas.”
“And he edited them.”
“Yes.”
Dante swore.
“Gabriella may not know.”
Alessandro’s eyes sharpened.
“Find her.”
They did.
Gabriella Sloan answered on the second call.
She was sixty-one.
Former FBI counterintelligence.
Retired after twenty-eight years.
Ella knew her as Mrs. Sloan from apartment 2A, the woman who complained about recycling and always seemed to have too much banana bread.
Within an hour, Gabriella appeared on a secure video call.
Her expression turned furious when Alessandro explained.
“I sent monthly photographs.”
Alessandro froze.
“What photographs?”
“Exterior only.”
“Ella with the child twice.”
“Why?”
“Because you told Greco you wanted confirmation she was healthy.”
Alessandro looked murderous.
“I never saw them.”
Gabriella swore.
Then:
“She was pregnant when I took over in Madison.”
Ella looked at her.
“You knew who I was?”
“Yes.”
“And never told me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Mr. Vitale’s instructions were explicit.”
Gabriella looked toward Alessandro on the screen.
“No interference.”
“No approach.”
“If she discovered surveillance, pull back.”
“Priority was counter-surveillance against Mancini associates.”
Ella’s chest tightened.
“Did you know Carlo was alive?”
Gabriella shook her head.
“No.”
“But somebody kept probing.”
“Cars.”
“Two break-in attempts.”
“One man followed Ella from work.”
“I scared him off.”
Ella remembered.
A man in a blue jacket.
She had noticed him three nights in a row.
Then he disappeared.
Gabriella continued.
“Greco always told me it was residual Mancini exposure.”
“Did you ever send Lily’s name?”
“Yes.”
Alessandro’s face went white.
“When?”
“Her first birthday.”
“Why?”
“Security file.”
“I sent a copy of her daycare registration after someone tried to access enrollment records.”
Ella stopped breathing.
“What?”
Gabriella looked at her.
“Someone called pretending to be your brother.”
“I don’t have a brother.”
“I know.”
Ella stood abruptly.
The room tilted.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Gabriella’s expression tightened.
“I told Greco to.”
Alessandro closed his eyes.
Tomas had been controlling both sides.
Protecting Ella enough to keep Alessandro satisfied.
Keeping her uninformed enough that she remained easy to monitor.
Feeding information to Carlo.
Dante’s phone rang.
He answered.
Then looked at Alessandro.
“Tomas’s accounts.”
“What?”
“Six hundred thousand dollars moved through a Cayman company over eighteen months.”
“Source?”
“Shell company.”
“Beneficial owner?”
Dante swallowed.
“Mancini Maritime.”
Carlo.
Alive.
Alessandro walked toward the window.
His wound pulled at the stitches.
He ignored it.
Ella watched his reflection.
She knew this version of him.
Stillness before violence.
“Don’t.”
He looked back.
“What?”
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I was married to you.”
His jaw tightened.
Dante silently left them again.
Wise man.
Ella moved closer.
“If Tomas appears, you do not execute him in a warehouse.”
“I wasn’t planning a warehouse.”
“That is not reassuring.”
Alessandro almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his expression became hard again.
“He hid my daughter from me.”
“Yes.”
“For two years.”
“Yes.”
“He gave her location to a man who tried to have her shot today.”
“We don’t know Carlo ordered the shooting.”
“You’re defending him?”
“No.”
Ella’s voice sharpened.
“I’m defending the possibility of finding out who else is involved.”
That stopped him.
She continued.
“You kill Tomas, you get revenge.”
“You keep him alive, maybe you get the network.”
Alessandro studied her.
“You’ve changed.”
“So have you.”
“Have I?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Fair.
Lily woke an hour later.
She demanded cake.
Ella refused.
Alessandro attempted diplomacy.
“Maybe dinner first.”
Lily stared at him.
“You’re not Mommy.”
“No.”
“Mommy says cake is not lunch.”
“That seems correct.”
Lily frowned.
“You’re supposed to help.”
Alessandro looked at Ella.
“She turns quickly.”
“Welcome to parenthood.”
He went still.
The phrase had escaped casually.
Parenthood.
Ella almost took it back.
Then decided not to.
A DNA test happened that afternoon.
Not because either adult doubted.
Because lawyers existed.
Ella requested it.
Alessandro’s expression had tightened.
“You don’t have to prove her to me.”
“I’m not.”
She looked at him.
“I’m protecting Lily from someone later claiming you acted on resemblance.”
He understood.
“Fine.”
The result would take hours because Alessandro apparently had access to a private laboratory that feared disappointing him.
Lily hated the cheek swab.
Then demanded Alessandro undergo his first.
He complied.
At dinner, she sat beside him.
At bath time, she refused to let him leave the hallway.
Ella watched everything.
Alessandro never overreached.
Never called himself Dad first.
Never told Lily where to sit unless safety required it.
When Lily asked why he did not live with them, Alessandro looked at Ella before answering.
“Because your mommy and I don’t live together.”
“Why?”
Ella inhaled.
Here came the impossible part.
“Because grown-ups sometimes stop being married.”
Lily frowned.
“But you like Mommy.”
Alessandro looked at Ella.
Too long.
“Yes.”
“Mommy likes you?”
Ella nearly choked.
“We are not doing this.”
Lily looked offended.
“Why?”
“Because you’re two.”
“Almost three.”
Alessandro’s mouth twitched.
“She has you there.”
Ella glared at him.
Lily climbed onto the couch.
“Can Daddy come home?”
The room stopped.
Ella closed her eyes.
Alessandro answered first.
“That is Mommy’s decision.”
Her head snapped toward him.
No pressure.
No manipulation.
He continued.
“And Daddy—”
He stopped.
The word had come out.
Lily smiled.
Alessandro looked as if he had been caught doing something criminal.
Ella felt her chest tighten.
Lily corrected him.
“You are Daddy.”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
Then he looked at Ella.
“If your mother is comfortable with that.”
Ella stared at him.
This man once made decisions for entire rooms before people finished speaking.
Now he was asking permission to accept the title his own child had already given him.
“Yes.”
The word came quietly.
Alessandro stopped breathing.
“Yes what?”
“You’re her father.”
His expression broke.
“Ella.”
“That does not mean anything about us.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t mean I’m coming back.”
“I know.”
“It means Lily deserves her father if you can be one without turning her life into your organization.”
His jaw tightened.
“I can.”
“We’ll see.”
He nodded.
No argument.
That mattered.
At nine thirty, the DNA report arrived.
99.9998 percent probability.
Alessandro read it alone.
Ella watched from the doorway.
He touched the line with one finger.
Then sat down.
A man worth hundreds of millions.
A feared name.
Surrounded by guards.
And he cried.
Quietly.
Ella almost left him privacy.
Then Lily wandered in wearing pajamas with strawberries on them.
She saw his face.
“Daddy sad?”
Alessandro wiped his cheek.
“No.”
Lily climbed into his lap without asking.
“You’re crying.”
“Yes.”
“Mommy cries when she’s happy too.”
Alessandro looked at Ella.
“That’s apparently what this is.”
Lily hugged him.
The moment lasted less than a minute.
Then Dante entered.
His face destroyed it.
“We found Tomas.”
Alessandro stood carefully with Lily still against him.
“Where?”
“Not where you’re going to like.”
“Say it.”
Dante looked toward Ella.
“Tomas is inside the old Vitale estate.”
Alessandro’s expression changed.
His father’s estate.
The house controlled by Alessandro’s uncle Raffaele Vitale.
Dante continued.
“And Carlo Mancini is with him.”
Ella felt the temperature in the room drop.
Carlo was alive.
May you like
Tomas was a traitor.
And both men were hiding beneath the roof of Alessandro’s own family.
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