Chapter 6 - THE BLUE COAT
The safe room felt like it was shrinking.
The air was thick, heavy with the weight of a truth that had been buried for half a decade.
Matteo stood perfectly still, staring at the crayon drawing of the man with the scarred jaw. His chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths. He wasn't crying. He wasn't yelling.
He was transforming.
The businessman, the grieving widower, the father—they were all burning away, leaving only the ruthless, calculated survivor who had built an empire.
"Five years," Matteo whispered to the empty room. "He stood beside me at her funeral. He poured me a drink when I couldn't sleep. He held my daughter."
Suddenly, the lights in the safe room flickered, then died entirely.
We were plunged into pitch blackness.
A second later, the red emergency backup lights kicked on, casting a bloody hue over the steel walls. The security monitors on the wall sparked, then went black.
Vincent had cut the main power to the estate.
"Daddy?" Sofia whimpered, grabbing onto my leg.
"I'm right here, Sofia," Matteo said, his voice projecting a calm he clearly didn't feel. He reached into a supply cabinet and pulled out a heavy tactical flashlight, illuminating the room.
He turned to me. The red light caught the side of my face.
He frowned, stepping closer. "You're bleeding again."
I reached up. My fingers came away wet and sticky. The stress, the adrenaline, the fall in the garage—the wound behind my ear had fully reopened. A warm trickle ran down my neck, soaking into the white collar of my maid's uniform.
"It's fine," I said, swaying slightly. The ringing in my bad ear had turned into a dull, throbbing ache. "I'm fine."
Matteo didn't listen. He opened a first-aid kit on the wall, pulled out a sterile gauze pad and medical tape.
"Sit down," he ordered.
I sat on the edge of the cot. The most powerful man in the city knelt in front of me, gently moving my hair aside. His fingers were large, calloused, but surprisingly gentle as he cleaned the blood from my neck and pressed the gauze firmly against the wound.
"Why did you take this job, Lily?" Matteo asked quietly as he taped the bandage.
The question caught me off guard. "Sir?"
"You're smart. You observe everything. You survived an attack and came back to work the next day. You don't belong in a maid's uniform serving wine." His dark eyes met mine. "Who sent you here?"
I looked away. "Nobody sent me."
"Lily." His voice was a warning, but there was a softness to it now. A recognition between two survivors in a locked room. "We are out of lies tonight."
I took a shaky breath.
"I came here looking for my brother," I confessed.
Matteo paused. "Your brother?"
I nodded, the tears finally breaking free. "His name was David. He was a mechanic. Five years ago, he got a call for a private, high-paying job. He left our apartment in his favorite blue work coat. He said it was just a one-day gig for some rich guy in the hills."
I wiped my eyes, my voice cracking.
"He never came back. The police didn't care. Just another kid from the wrong side of the tracks gone missing. But I knew he wouldn't abandon me. I tracked the last location on his phone before it died. It pinged a mile from this estate."
Matteo stared at me, his hands slowly dropping to his sides.
"I spent three years trying to get a job here," I cried softly. "I just wanted to find his blue coat. Or a tool. Or anything that proved he was here. I just wanted to know what happened to him."
Matteo looked down at the crayon drawing in his hand. The man fixing the car.
"Lily," Matteo said, his voice barely a whisper. "Your brother... David. Did he have a scar?"
I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
"Yes," I whispered. "On his jaw. From a welding accident when he was a teenager."
The silence that followed was the most agonizing moment of my life.
Matteo looked at me with a profound, horrifying sadness.
"He wasn't just a mechanic," Matteo said softly. "Vincent hired him to rig Elena's brakes. Your brother didn't know whose car it was, Lily. He didn't know it was a hit. Vincent used him."
My hands flew to my mouth to muffle a sob.
"And when the job was done," Matteo continued, his voice breaking, "Vincent couldn't leave loose ends. He killed your brother to cover his tracks."
The room spun. My brother wasn't missing. He was dead. And the man who killed him was currently hunting us outside this very door.
"I'm so sorry, Lily," Matteo said, and for the first time, I saw a tear slip down the face of the Mafia Boss.
Before I could respond, a massive, deafening BANG echoed through the steel door.
May you like
They had brought a battering ram.
Vincent was here.
