Chapter 6 - WHAT THEIR FATHER CHOSE
Matteo wanted Greene brought to him.
Instead, he went to the federal building.
Progress.
Painful progress.
Paul Greene looked smaller than Matteo remembered.
Retirement had thickened him.
Grayed him.
Removed the uniform that once made Elena afraid nobody would believe her.
Matteo sat behind glass with his attorney.
Greene spoke to agents.
“Vittorio knew Daniel was alive by February.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“How?”
“Thomas Vale told him.”
“Why?”
“Vale wanted out.”
“Out of Roberto’s scheme?”
“Yes.”
“Your father found out Roberto had been stealing.”
“What did he do?”
Greene looked down.
“Nothing publicly.”
“Why?”
“Because it would destroy the family.”
Matteo laughed bitterly.
Of course.
Families destroyed themselves to avoid looking destroyed.
“Did he confront Roberto?”
“Yes.”
“Roberto admitted some.”
“Blamed Anthony.”
“Blamed Vale.”
“Blamed union men.”
“Did Dad know Roberto tried to kill Daniel?”
“Yes.”
Matteo closed his eyes.
“What happened to Roberto?”
“Your father forced him out of several businesses.”
That had been presented as retirement.
Matteo remembered.
Roberto moved to Florida six years before his death.
Everyone called it health.
It had been exile.
“Why not turn him over?”
“Family.”
Greene said it like explanation.
Matteo hated the word suddenly.
Then:
“Why keep Daniel away from me?”
Greene hesitated.
“Because Daniel wanted out.”
Silence.
“What?”
“After Pennsylvania.”
“After recovery.”
“After everything.”
“Daniel told Vale he was done with the Romano life.”
Matteo stared.
“He left us.”
“He left the business.”
“Not the same.”
“Did he ask about me?”
Greene looked at him.
“Yes.”
Matteo’s throat tightened.
“What did he say?”
“Vale’s notes say Daniel believed you would never leave the life.”
“He thought if he came back, you’d pull him into the war against Roberto.”
Maybe true.
Greene continued:
“Vittorio made a deal.”
“What deal?”
“He would let Daniel disappear.”
“In exchange?”
“Daniel stayed away.”
“From everyone?”
“Mostly.”
“Isabella?”
“Your father didn’t know she had already helped him.”
“So Dad knew Daniel went to Canada?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then?”
“Vale handled arrangements.”
“Why did Vale later die?”
Greene looked away.
Matteo went still.
“Was it an accident?”
“I don’t know.”
Not useful.
Maybe truthful.
“Did my father order it?”
“No evidence.”
“Roberto?”
“Possible.”
Matteo leaned back.
Daniel’s story became clearer.
He survived.
Escaped.
Recovered.
Chose to leave organized crime.
Their father learned.
Allowed it.
Protected family reputation by keeping Daniel officially dead.
That was monstrous.
And perhaps, in a twisted way, protective.
Matteo hated complexity.
Grace understood it better.
When he explained a child-safe version later, she said:
“So his dad let him run away because he thought staying was bad.”
“Yes.”
“But didn’t tell you.”
“Yes.”
“That’s dumb.”
“Yes.”
Simple.
Then investigators found the Canadian trail.
Immigration records were limited because Daniel likely crossed under false documentation.
But a Montreal church charity had employment records for “David Ross.”
Maintenance worker.
Nine months.
Then he left.
Next:
Halifax.
Dock repair company.
Two years.
Then another name appeared through tax records linked to the same birth date.
Daniel Rossi.
Maine.
A boatyard.
Seven years ago.
Matteo’s heartbeat stopped.
United States again.
Then nothing.
Not because he necessarily died.
Because the records ended.
Luca found one old coworker.
“He talked about Brooklyn?”
“Sometimes.”
“Family?”
“Brother.”
“What did he say?”
The coworker thought.
“He said his brother was a good man trapped in a bad inheritance.”
Matteo looked away.
Then:
“Did he say why he left Maine?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“He got sick.”
Matteo froze.
“What kind?”
“Heart.”
Daniel had congenital cardiomyopathy.
Their mother had too.
Matteo knew.
Daniel had been monitored since adolescence.
Trauma and addiction may have worsened it.
“Where did he go?”
“Hospital in Portland.”
Records.
Finally.
Daniel Romano, under his real name.
Admitted seven years ago.
He had stopped hiding.
Why?
Maybe because he was dying.
Matteo requested records through proper family channels.
Next of kin verification.
The answer arrived.
Daniel died there.
Seven years ago.
Not eleven.
Not in fire.
Not murdered.
Heart failure.
Age thirty-four.
Alone?
No.
One emergency contact.
Isabella Romano.
His sister.
She had been there.
Matteo sat in silence for a long time.
Daniel had lived four extra years.
Isabella had found him again.
She visited twice before his death.
The hospital had one sealed personal-effects package never claimed.
Because Isabella died three years later before probate resolved the alias issue.
The package contained:
One photograph of Matteo.
One letter.
No watch.
Because Elena had that.
Matteo opened Daniel’s final letter at home.
Not in an office.
Elena and Grace were there because Grace had asked to see whether the watch got fixed.
It had.
New crystal.
Original cracked crystal preserved separately.
Daniel wrote:
Matt,
If this reaches you, then somebody finally stopped trying to protect you from the truth.
Matteo laughed through tears.
Then:
I’m sorry I let you bury me.
I was angry.
Afraid.
Ashamed of what happened to me.
I thought leaving would keep Roberto from using me against you.
Then I stayed gone because I discovered I liked being Daniel more than being a Romano.
That one hurt.
But Matteo understood.
I worked boats.
Fixed engines.
Got sober.
Learned to cook three things badly.
I missed you every day.
Grace looked up.
“Did he say that?”
Matteo nodded.
“Yes.”
Daniel continued:
Dad found me eventually.
He offered to bring me home.
I said no.
Don’t hate him only for that.
He made many mistakes.
That one was mine.
Matteo cried openly now.
Elena looked away to give him dignity.
Grace did not.
Children did not understand pretending tears were private.
Daniel finished:
If you ever learn what happened, do one thing for me.
Make the family smaller.
Not weaker.
Smaller.
Less fear.
Less pretending.
No child should inherit our mistakes because he shares our name.
And Matt—
wear the damn watch.
Matteo laughed.
Grace smiled.
“He said what I said.”
“Yes.”
“He sounds smart.”
“He was.”
Matteo fastened the repaired watch around his wrist.
For the first time in eleven years.
Then looked at Elena.
“The whole reason tonight happened…”
She nodded.
“Was because Anthony and Greene were scared the old ledger would expose them.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel’s death seven years ago had nothing to do with tonight.”
“No.”
That mattered.
The conspiracy had ended years earlier.
Tonight’s danger was men trying to hide old guilt.
Not an endless secret society.
Matteo preferred the truth that way.
Ugly.
Finite.
Human.
Then Grace asked:
“Are bad people still after Mama?”
Matteo looked at Elena.
“No.”
Federal cases were moving.
Anthony under protection.
Greene cooperating.
Roberto dead.
Vittorio dead.
Vale dead.
The active danger had collapsed.
Matteo answered carefully:
“I don’t think anyone is hunting her now.”
Grace nodded.
“Good.”
Then:
May you like
“Can we have dessert?”
And just like that, eleven years of family lies had to make room for chocolate cake.
