Chapter 5 - The True Father
The iron door groaned again, buckling inward. Dust rained down from the stone ceiling.
"Get behind me," Adrian ordered, pushing me and Walter behind a thick row of wine racks. He raised his weapon, aiming steadily at the center of the iron door.
BANG.
The hinges snapped. The heavy steel door crashed to the stone floor, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Through the haze stepped Carlo, holding a heavy assault rifle. Behind him, flanked by four armed men, was a man I had never seen before.
He was in his late sixties, wearing an immaculate, tailored charcoal suit. His silver hair was perfectly combed, and his eyes—a piercing, icy blue—were locked directly on Walter.
"Hello, Walter," the man said. His voice was smooth, cultured, and terrifyingly calm.
Walter gripped my arm to keep himself standing. "Thomas."
Thomas Rossi. The most feared syndicate boss in the Midwest. Ruth’s first husband.
"You look old, Walter," Thomas noted, stepping casually into the freezing cellar as if he were inspecting a new property. "Time hasn't been kind to a thief."
"I didn't steal her," Walter said fiercely, stepping out from behind the rack to shield me. "She left you, Thomas. You were a monster."
Thomas smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And yet, here you are, cowering in a basement while your son's fiancée tries to murder you for your money. How noble."
Adrian kept his gun aimed squarely at Thomas's chest. "Call off your men, Rossi. You're in Santoro territory."
"Am I?" Thomas chuckled. He didn't even look at Adrian's gun. He gestured to Carlo.
Carlo lowered his rifle.
"Evelyn thought she was buying my men," Adrian realized, his jaw tightening. "But Carlo was working for you the whole time."
"Evelyn is a foolish, greedy girl," Thomas said dismissively. "She reached out to the Chicago families a month ago, looking for backing to overthrow you. She handed me the keys to your estate on a silver platter. I merely let her believe she was in charge."
Thomas turned his icy gaze to me. His eyes dropped to the vintage diamond ring clutched in my hand, then to my swollen stomach.
"So," Thomas said softly, walking slowly toward me. "This is the girl."
Adrian stepped into his path, pressing the barrel of his gun directly against Thomas's expensive suit jacket.
"Take one more step toward her, and I drop you," Adrian promised.
Thomas looked at the gun, then up at Adrian. "You have my wife's eyes, Adrian. But you have Walter's foolish temper. I didn't come here to kill a pregnant woman. I came for what belongs to me."
"David is gone," Walter spat. "He ran."
"I know he ran," Thomas said, his voice hardening. "Because I was the one who chased him. I found out about the boy ten years ago. I've been hunting him ever since. But he's slippery. Just like his mother."
He looked back at me. "But David loves you. He loves his unborn child. He wouldn't abandon you forever. He just went to ground until it was safe."
The realization hit me like a physical blow. David hadn't run from Evelyn's debt. He had run from his biological father. He had left me behind because he knew Thomas would never look for him in the servant's quarters of a rival mafia estate.
Except, Thomas had found me.
"You're going to use my baby as bait," I whispered, terrified.
"I prefer the term 'leverage'," Thomas corrected smoothly. "When David finds out I have his wife and child, he will come to Chicago. He will take his rightful place at my side."
"He'll never join you," Walter said.
"He's a Rossi," Thomas snapped, his composed facade finally cracking. "He belongs with his blood!"
"Blood doesn't make a father!" Adrian roared, stepping forward. "Love makes a father. Walter protected him. You hunted him."
Thomas’s eyes narrowed. "And what did Walter do for you, Adrian? He adopted you to cover his own shame. He used you as a shield to build his empire because he knew he could never have biological children to inherit it."
"He loved me," Adrian said fiercely.
"Did he?" Thomas asked, a cruel smile returning to his lips. "Ask him who your real parents were, Adrian. Ask him why you were in that orphanage in the first place."
Adrian froze. He didn't lower the gun, but his eyes flicked to Walter.
Walter looked physically sick. The old man leaned heavily against the wine rack, refusing to meet his son's gaze.
"Dad?" Adrian asked, his voice suddenly sounding very young. "What is he talking about?"
"Tell him, Walter," Thomas goaded. "Tell him how you built the Santoro family."
Walter closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his weathered cheek.
"Thirty-seven years ago," Walter whispered, his voice shaking with decades of guilt. "We were at war with the Romano family. They cornered me in a warehouse. I... I set a fire to escape."
He opened his eyes, looking at Adrian with absolute devastation.
"I didn't know there was an apartment above the warehouse, Adrian. I didn't know."
Adrian's breathing stopped.
"Your parents died in that fire," Thomas said, delivering the lethal blow with surgical precision. "Walter didn't adopt you out of the goodness of his heart, Adrian. He adopted you because he made you an orphan."
The gun in Adrian's hand began to shake.
The man who had raised him, the man he had just risked his life to protect, was the man who had murdered his true family.
Carlo didn't miss the opportunity. As Adrian's focus shattered, Carlo raised his rifle and struck Adrian across the back of the head with the heavy stock.
Adrian collapsed to the stone floor, unconscious.
I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him.
May you like
Thomas Rossi adjusted his suit cuffs and looked at Carlo.
"Put the old man in the trunk. Bring the girl and the trust documents. We're going to Chicago."
