Chapter 7 - THE TRUTH ABOUT MY FATHER’S DEATH
For five years, I blamed Rafael Cortez for my father’s murder.
So did Chicago.
Cortez had been a rival.
Our families disputed warehouse territory.
Three of his men vanished after Sebastian’s death.
Two were later found dead in Indiana.
One disappeared permanently.
I had approved retaliation.
Not personally executed it.
But approved.
That truth sat heavily once the collar file appeared.
What if Cortez had not ordered the ambush?
What if Matteo had fed our father’s route to someone else and allowed two families to destroy each other afterward?
I asked federal investigators to reopen everything.
Marco resisted only once.
“You understand what this exposes.”
“Yes.”
“Old violence.”
“Yes.”
“People around you.”
“Yes.”
“Your decisions.”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Then I’m with you.”
That earned back more trust than any denial.
Rafael Cortez was seventy now.
Retired.
Living under federal agreement in New Mexico after unrelated charges.
Through attorneys, he agreed to a recorded interview.
His first words to me:
“You finally figured out your brother is poison.”
My jaw tightened.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why not say anything?”
He laughed.
“Would you have believed me?”
No.
Probably not.
Five years ago I would have considered accusation propaganda.
Cortez continued.
“I didn’t order Sebastian’s hit.”
“Your men did it.”
“No.”
“Three of them disappeared afterward.”
“Because someone paid them privately.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t know then.”
“And now?”
“Matteo.”
Silence.
“How?”
“One shooter’s widow contacted my attorney last year.”
“Why?”
“She wanted money.”
“What did she have?”
“A payment record.”
Federal agents had it within hours.
Offshore transfer.
Lake Meridian Analytics.
Matteo’s shell company.
Recipient tied to shooter.
Date:
Two days before Sebastian died.
Amount:
$750,000.
Another shooter received similar.
My stomach turned.
Matteo had hired men associated with a rival.
Then fed them our father’s route.
Perfect frame.
“Why kill Dad?” I asked Cortez.
He looked at me through screen.
“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
“Sebastian discovered your brother was stealing.”
My chest tightened.
“How much?”
“Not money first.”
“What?”
“Information.”
Matteo sold shipping schedules to competitors.
Then to criminals.
Small things.
Routes.
Insurance data.
Security gaps.
He was twenty-three.
Sebastian confronted him.
Threatened to remove him from every company.
Matteo begged.
Sebastian gave him another chance.
Three years later he did it again.
This time with trust documents.
Cortez said:
“Your father planned to cut him out.”
Marco had told me.
I stopped it.
Then later, Sebastian apparently reconsidered quietly.
He may have tried again.
Agents found a draft email in an archived attorney server.
From Sebastian:
Matteo’s actions have crossed from reckless to dangerous. Do not tell Alessio until documents are final. He will try to save his brother again.
That line hurt.
My father knew me.
He knew I would protect Matteo.
He was right.
The amendment never became final because Sebastian died first.
Matteo had motive.
Preserve inheritance.
Remove father.
Let older brother take dangerous leadership role while Matteo remained beloved younger sibling.
Then eventually remove me too.
A long plan?
Maybe not.
Rebecca said something important:
“Do not make him more brilliant than evidence shows.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“People build myths around villains.”
She pointed to the timeline.
“He likely solved one crisis at a time.”
Sebastian threatened inheritance.
Matteo arranged murder.
You inherited.
He realized you could later marry or have children.
He monitored.
Mateo discovered surveillance.
Matteo removed him.
Nero became useful as a bug.
Founders Night became opportunity.
Not one perfect plan.
A series of crimes protecting previous crimes.
That was more believable.
And somehow more pathetic.
Sienna listened when I told her.
She and Elsie had been moved again.
This time to a protected apartment outside Illinois.
Nero remained glued to Elsie.
Sienna sat on video with exhaustion in her face.
“So Mateo died because he found proof about your father.”
“Yes.”
She looked away.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Your father.”
I almost laughed at the strange symmetry.
“I’m sorry about your husband.”
Two dead men.
Different worlds.
Same murderer’s path.
Elsie climbed into view holding Nero’s paw.
“Mister Alessio?”
“Yes?”
“Nero misses you.”
Nero did not appear to miss me.
He was lying across Elsie’s feet.
I smiled.
“I miss him.”
“Come.”
Sienna’s eyes shifted.
I said:
“I can’t yet.”
Elsie frowned.
“Bad men?”
“One bad man.”
“Mr. Matt?”
Sienna closed her eyes.
Children heard too much.
“Yes.”
Elsie thought.
“Police get him.”
“We’re trying.”
“Then come.”
If only systems moved at toddler speed.
That evening, a call came from Matteo.
Blocked number.
Agents traced while I answered.
“Brother.”
His voice sounded tired.
Not panicked.
“Matteo.”
“You found the collar.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then:
“Mateo was always too curious.”
My hand tightened.
“Did you kill him?”
“You’re recording.”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“Good.”
No confession.
I changed direction.
“Did you kill Dad?”
Silence.
Long.
Then:
“Dad killed himself the day he decided only one son mattered.”
My blood turned cold.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you deserve.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
Matteo laughed.
“You really don’t know.”
“No.”
“He loved you.”
“He loved you too.”
“No.”
His voice sharpened.
“He worried about me.”
There it was.
“Do you know the difference?”
I closed my eyes.
“He respected you. He worried about me.”
“Matteo—”
“You got meetings.”
“You were younger.”
“I got counselors.”
“You were struggling.”
“You got company shares with votes.”
“You got shares.”
“Without control.”
“You were twenty-one.”
“And you were always enough.”
His voice cracked.
I heard the boy beneath the criminal for one second.
Then it disappeared.
“You walked into rooms and everyone moved.”
“I didn’t ask them to.”
“That’s worse.”
Matteo continued.
“Mom asked you to protect me.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what I heard?”
“What?”
“That I was the broken one.”
Silence.
I could not tell him that interpretation was wrong.
It was his.
But I could tell him what mattered now.
“You murdered people.”
He went silent.
“You hurt Nero.”
Silence.
“You threatened Elsie.”
Still silence.
“You had Mateo killed.”
His breathing changed.
“You killed Dad.”
“I didn’t pull the trigger.”
There.
Closest thing to admission.
“But you paid the people who did.”
No answer.
“Turn yourself in.”
Matteo laughed.
“And spend my life in a cage while you keep everything?”
“I’ll surrender every share if that gets you into a courtroom.”
That silenced him.
He did not expect it.
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
“You love the empire.”
“I loved you too.”
Silence.
Past tense hurt us both.
I continued:
“Money is not why I want you caught.”
“What then?”
“Sienna deserves to know what happened to Mateo.”
A pause.
“Elsie deserves to grow up without you watching her.”
Another.
“Nero deserves not to be drugged because he was loyal.”
Then:
“And Dad deserves the truth.”
Matteo’s voice turned cold.
“Dad deserved what he got.”
The line was recorded.
Not legal confession.
But revealing.
Then he said:
“You want truth?”
“Yes.”
“Ask Marco where he was the night Dad died.”
The call ended.
I looked toward Marco.
He stood ten feet away.
His face went pale.
“What does he mean?”
Marco said nothing.
My pulse slowed.
“Marco.”
He sat.
“I was with Sebastian.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
“Before the ambush.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
“Because I left him.”
The room went silent.
Marco continued:
“Your father told me to take a different vehicle.”
“Why?”
“He wanted me to meet an investigator.”
“What investigator?”
“He believed Matteo was leaking routes.”
I stared.
“He knew that night.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he travel?”
“He wanted Matteo to think everything was normal.”
My jaw tightened.
“You knew my brother was suspect.”
“Your father told me not to tell you until he had proof.”
“And after Dad died?”
Marco looked broken.
“I should have.”
“Yes.”
“I thought the investigation died with him.”
“Why?”
“The federal contact disappeared.”
Another vanishing person.
“Name?”
“David Harlan.”
Rebecca searched.
Former federal organized crime analyst.
Resigned five years ago.
Current location unknown.
Marco continued:
“I blamed Cortez too.”
“But you knew Matteo had been leaking.”
“Yes.”
“And you stayed silent.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
Trust collapsing again.
Marco placed his hands flat on the table.
“You can remove me.”
“I am.”
He closed his eyes.
“From estate command, effective now.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
No argument.
That helped.
But consequence remained.
Marco had protected my father’s request long after my father was dead.
Silence had become cowardice.
Then Rebecca found David Harlan.
Not dead.
Not vanished.
Living under another name in Oregon.
He had resigned because someone sent photographs of his children to his house after Sebastian’s murder.
Same pattern.
Threaten family.
Create silence.
Harlan had kept one thing.
Sebastian’s final voicemail.
Recorded twenty-three minutes before the ambush.
“David, if this goes wrong, Matteo did it. Alessio won’t believe you at first. Give him time. And tell him I should have listened when he said family shouldn’t be punished for one mistake. The problem is I gave Matteo twelve.”
I sat alone after hearing it.
My father had known.
He had tried to warn someone.
And his last message included regret for protecting Matteo too long.
The same mistake I made.
Love without boundaries.
Protection without accountability.
Matteo had interpreted every rescue as proof there would always be another.
Until there wasn’t.
Founders Night was four days away.
We knew Matteo no longer needed the original plan.
He was exposed.
Running.
Dangerous.
Then Sienna called.
Her voice was tight.
“Alessio.”
“What?”
“Nero is growling at the wall.”
I frowned.
“What wall?”
“The kitchen.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Then I heard Elsie.
“Bad sound.”
My blood went cold.
Rebecca’s secure location had been swept.
But Nero was reacting.
Sienna moved the phone closer.
A faint electronic chirp.
Every thirty seconds.
Nero barked.
Rebecca tore open a wall outlet.
Inside was another transmitter.
Fresh.
Installed after they arrived.
Someone had compromised the new location.
May you like
And this time, only federal personnel knew the address.
Matteo had someone inside law enforcement.
