Chapter 10 - THE MORNING INTRUDER
My blood ran completely cold.
I didn't scream. I didn't reach for a weapon. I simply stared at the stuffed bear sitting inches from the hand of the man who had nearly destroyed my life.
“Step away from the table,” I said, my voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register.
Matteo didn't move. He looked broken, a ghost of the arrogant mafia boss who had humiliated me in our dining room just five days ago.
“I didn't hurt him,” Matteo whispered, tears pooling in his dark eyes. “I just watched him sleep. Claire... he looks exactly like me.”
“He is nothing like you,” I hissed, stepping slowly into the kitchen, keeping myself between Matteo and the stairs that led to Leo's room. “How did you find us?”
Matteo let out a bitter, exhausted laugh. “I’m still the head of the Moretti family, Claire. Carlo took the assets, but he couldn't erase my contacts. I tracked the medical transport flights Rosa arranged. I came here to warn you.”
“Warn me?” I scoffed. “You’re the one we’re hiding from!”
“No!” Matteo stood up sharply, his wounded arm protesting. He winced in pain, leaning heavily against the table. “Claire, you have to listen to me. Vanessa’s father didn't act alone twenty years ago.”
He reached into his jacket with his good hand and pulled out a blood-stained envelope, tossing it onto the table.
“When I survived the garage,” Matteo said, his voice urgent, “I went to Vanessa’s penthouse. I was going to kill her. But she had already packed and fled. She left her personal safe open. Inside, I found correspondence between her father and someone inside the commission.”
I frowned, refusing to step closer to him. “What does that mean?”
“It means the hit on your father twenty years ago wasn't just to cover up embezzlement,” Matteo said. “Your father was the accountant. He knew where the commission’s oldest, darkest money was buried. The Bellinis didn't just want to steal from the family—they wanted to steal the commission’s entire reserve.”
Matteo took a step toward me. “And the man who helped them do it is the man who just took control of Chicago.”
My heart stopped.
“Carlo,” I whispered.
Matteo nodded grimly. “My uncle Carlo. He orchestrated the hit on your father. He played the loyal soldier to my grandfather, and he played the savior to you. But he used you, Claire. He used the ledgers you brought him to eliminate the Bellinis so he could finally take the throne himself.”
I backed away, shaking my head. “No. Carlo saved me in the garage. He shot at Vanessa’s men!”
“He shot at them because Vanessa got greedy and tried to take the files for herself,” Matteo insisted. “Carlo needed those files delivered to the commission to secure his own position. And now that he has power...”
Matteo looked toward the stairs, absolute terror in his eyes.
“Now that he has power, he needs to tie up loose ends. He knows your father is alive. And he knows Rosa hid an heir.”
Suddenly, the heavy front door of the villa splintered inward with a deafening crash.
Wood and metal rained down onto the tile floor.
My father rushed out of the study, holding a shotgun, but it was too late.
Five heavily armed men in black tactical gear flooded into the hallway, assault rifles raised.
And walking casually behind them, holding a silver-handled cane, was Uncle Carlo.
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“Good morning, Claire,” Carlo smiled warmly. “I apologize for the intrusion. But I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
TITLE: The Tuscan Standoff
