Chapter 5 - ALDO MADE HIS MOVE BEFORE I COULD STAND WITHOUT A CANE
Aldo moved fast.
I should have expected it.
Men who spend twenty years beside power learn exactly when hesitation becomes fatal.
The morning after Camilla was found alive, four captains requested an emergency council meeting.
Not with me.
With Aldo.
I learned because one of them, Marco Bianchi, called me directly.
That alone told me the structure was cracking.
“Boss.”
His voice sounded nervous.
“Speak.”
“Aldo says your condition has worsened.”
I looked at my own legs.
I had walked forty feet that morning with a cane.
“Interesting.”
“He says doctors expect cognitive decline.”
“More interesting.”
“He says Camilla manipulated your staff and escaped with family property.”
“Anything else?”
“He says the signatures on your recent orders may not be valid.”
There it was.
Capacity.
The final weapon.
If Aldo could convince enough captains I was mentally compromised, he could isolate me without openly declaring a coup.
“What do you think?”
I asked.
Bianchi hesitated.
“I think you sound like you.”
“Flattering.”
“Boss…”
“What?”
“Aldo has men at the docks.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
I ended the call.
Enzo stood near the window.
“He’s forcing a declaration.”
“Yes.”
“Your move?”
Old Dario answered first.
Kill Aldo before lunch.
New Dario hated that the thought still felt efficient.
“No.”
Enzo raised an eyebrow.
“We call counsel.”
“Independent captains.”
“Freeze corporate authority.”
“Notify law enforcement regarding the poisoning investigation.”
“And move Elena and Giulia.”
“Again.”
“Yes.”
Elena refused.
Of course.
“I am tired of hotels.”
“You are also alive.”
“So are you.”
“Barely.”
She glared.
Giulia sat at the kitchen table drawing ghosts with crayons.
“Mommy.”
“What?”
“Thomas—”
She stopped.
Wrong story universe? No. Dario. Let's correct in-story. Giulia said:
“Mr. Dario needs soup.”
Elena looked at me.
“He does not need soup.”
“I may.”
Giulia smiled.
Problem solved.
Elena turned serious.
“You keep moving us whenever Aldo gets scared.”
“Because you are targets.”
“No.”
“Because Giulia saw something.”
“Yes.”
“And because I stayed.”
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“Then stop sending us away without telling us what happens.”
I stared.
“I am telling you.”
“After decisions.”
There it was.
Control again.
I exhaled.
“What do you want?”
“To know the risk.”
“To choose.”
“And?”
“A place not controlled by your men.”
Interesting.
“Where?”
“My cousin’s house.”
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
I corrected.
“I think it is unsafe because Aldo may trace family.”
“Better.”
I hated being trained.
We settled on a protected apartment arranged through federal investigators handling the witness threats.
Not mine.
Not Aldo’s.
Not controlled by my organization.
Elena accepted.
Giulia asked whether federal agents had cookies.
Enzo said probably.
She considered government acceptable.
Then Camilla returned to New York under protection.
I could not see her.
Not immediately.
Investigators wanted statements first.
I hated them.
Still cooperated.
At four that afternoon, Aldo arrived at my mansion with six men.
I saw him through security cameras.
No weapons visible.
That meant nothing.
He requested entry.
Current guards hesitated.
Half still answered to structures he built.
Enzo looked at me.
“Do not meet him.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I said yes.”
“You’re still sick.”
“Exactly.”
He frowned.
I stood.
Cane.
Gray suit.
No tie.
The effort of dressing nearly exhausted me.
Did it anyway.
We met in the library.
Not bedroom.
Important.
Aldo entered alone after his men remained outside.
He looked at the cane.
Something close to disappointment crossed his face.
“You’re walking.”
“Terrible news.”
He smiled.
“Good news.”
“No.”
I sat.
He remained standing.
Old choreography.
“I heard about Montreal.”
Of course.
“Camilla is alive.”
“So I hear.”
“You sound disappointed.”
His smile faded.
“Dario.”
“Enough.”
I looked at him.
“Why did you poison me?”
There are questions people prepare for.
That was not one.
His face became still.
“I didn’t.”
“Pietro says you did.”
“Pietro is missing.”
“Protected.”
That hit.
“Vitale?”
Aldo’s eyes shifted.
Small.
Enough.
“Also talking.”
That was a bluff.
Vitale had lawyered up, not fully cooperated.
Aldo did not know.
He inhaled.
“You are being manipulated.”
“By whom?”
“Camilla.”
“Elena.”
“Enzo.”
He almost laughed.
“Everyone around you suddenly has a story.”
“And all stories accuse me.”
“Twenty years, Dario.”
He stepped closer.
“Twenty years I stood beside you.”
“Yes.”
“I bled for you.”
“Yes.”
“I kept men loyal when you disappeared for weeks.”
“Yes.”
“I built the docks with you.”
“Yes.”
“And now a maid’s child sees something in a wall and you throw twenty years away?”
There.
His real outrage.
Not innocence.
Status.
“You told Pietro I was dying before Vitale diagnosed me.”
Aldo stopped.
I leaned forward.
“How?”
Silence.
“How did you know?”
He looked at the floor.
Then at me.
His face changed.
Not guilt.
Resentment.
“You were supposed to step aside.”
The room became cold.
“That is not an answer.”
“You should have.”
His voice rose.
“You had enough.”
“Money.”
“Power.”
“Everyone terrified to breathe wrong around you.”
“You had everything.”
“And what did I have?”
I stared.
“My right hand.”
Aldo laughed.
“Exactly.”
“Always right hand.”
“Never the hand holding the crown.”
There it was.
Twenty years.
A man standing one step behind.
Counting every room as an insult.
“You could have left.”
“And become what?”
“A second-tier captain somewhere else?”
“I built this.”
“With me.”
“No.”
he snapped.
“For you.”
His breathing grew harder.
“Then you got sick.”
“I thought maybe God finally understood balance.”
I almost smiled.
“You don’t believe in God.”
“I believe in timing.”
He walked toward the liquor cart.
Enzo moved slightly.
Aldo noticed.
“No need.”
He poured water.
“Vitale said your symptoms could be made convincing.”
My pulse changed.
Confession.
Partial.
Enzo’s hidden recorder captured everything.
“Convincing enough for what?”
I asked.
“For retirement.”
“You expected me to sign the succession plan.”
“Yes.”
“And if I didn’t?”
Aldo drank.
“You would become too confused to matter.”
My hand tightened around the cane.
“You planned to keep me alive.”
“Of course.”
He smiled.
“A dead Dario creates war.”
“A sick Dario creates sympathy.”
“And a trusted Aldo protects the empire.”
Exactly.
Same logic as every parasite.
Need me.
Trust me.
Depend on me.
Then I remembered Giulia.
Too many ghosts.
“You made one mistake.”
I said.
Aldo smiled.
“Pietro?”
“No.”
“Camilla?”
“No.”
“Enzo?”
“No.”
He frowned.
“You forgot children look where adults are trained not to.”
His face changed.
Giulia.
I saw it.
He asked:
“Where are they?”
My blood went cold.
“Who?”
“Don’t.”
His voice sharpened.
“Elena and the girl.”
I stood too fast.
My legs nearly failed.
Enzo stepped forward.
Aldo smiled.
“There.”
“The dying man.”
He turned toward the door.
I said:
“If anything happens to them, this ends badly.”
He looked over his shoulder.
“Everything ends badly.”
Then alarms erupted.
Not mansion alarms.
My secure phone.
Enzo checked.
His face changed.
“What?”
I demanded.
“The federal apartment.”
My blood froze.
“Attack?”
“No.”
“Fire alarm.”
“Evacuation.”
My heart slammed.
Aldo smiled.
Too small.
Too satisfied.
“You.”
I whispered.
He did not answer.
Enzo grabbed his phone.
Agents were moving Elena and Giulia.
Then the line cut.
I reached for Aldo.
My legs failed.
I hit the table.
Pain exploded through my hip.
Aldo walked calmly toward the door.
Enzo drew his weapon.
“Stop.”
Aldo looked at him.
“Shoot me in Dario’s library.”
“See how many captains believe the old man afterward.”
He opened the door.
My guards outside hesitated.
Some looked at Aldo.
Some at Enzo.
The empire had split in a hallway.
Aldo smiled.
Then walked out.
Ten minutes later, federal agents confirmed the apartment fire was deliberate.
Elena was safe.
Giulia was not with her.
My blood became ice.
“What?”
Enzo listened.
Then looked at me.
“They lost sight of her during evacuation.”
I stopped breathing.
“No.”
“Elena says Giulia went back for the red scarf.”
My hand opened.
The small red bead still sat in my pocket.
“For brave.”
I stared at the door Aldo had just walked through.
The man who wanted my empire had stopped waiting for my death.
May you like
Now he had taken the one witness who could prove how the haunting began.
And perhaps the one child who had made me remember I wanted to live.
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