Chapter 5 - The Father Elena Never Knew
His name was Adrian Russo.
For years, Matteo had known him as a competitor.
Never a friend.
Never exactly an enemy.
Something worse.
A man waiting for Matteo to make a mistake.
Russo controlled a network of logistics companies stretching from Chicago to New York.
Legitimate on paper.
Complicated beneath it.
His relationship with the Valentes had been cold but stable.
Until six months earlier.
Then Russo began buying properties around Matteo’s holdings.
Poaching clients.
Funding lawsuits.
Undercutting bids.
Every move legal.
Every move deliberate.
Matteo assumed Russo wanted his empire.
Now he wondered whether Russo wanted something else.
Elena.
“She’s his daughter?” Marco asked.
Juliana nodded.
“I found Sofia’s letters three years ago.”
Matteo looked toward her.
“That’s why you contacted Vittorio.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Juliana’s eyes filled with something close to shame.
“Because Vittorio told me Adrian Russo killed my brother.”
Matteo knew Juliana’s brother died in a warehouse fire eight years earlier.
“You believed him.”
“I wanted to.”
“And now?”
She looked toward Elena.
“Now I think Vittorio arranged it.”
Elena remained still.
“My father is alive.”
Nobody answered.
She laughed once.
A small broken sound.
“My whole life my mother told me he left before I was born.”
Matteo stepped closer.
“Elena.”
“No.”
She walked away.
He followed her into the hallway.
“Elena.”
She turned.
“Did everyone know things about my life except me?”
“No.”
“My mother knew. Daniel knew. Juliana knew. Vittorio knew.”
“I didn’t.”
“That is somehow not comforting.”
Matteo understood.
Secrets had shaped his life too.
He let her leave.
The following morning, Adrian Russo called.
Not Matteo.
Elena.
She answered on speaker.
“Elena.”
She stiffened.
His voice was calm.
Older.
Controlled.
“I imagine you have questions.”
“Thirty years’ worth.”
“I deserve that.”
“Did you know about me?”
Silence.
“Yes.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“For how long?”
“Since before you were born.”
Her face tightened.
“Then why weren’t you there?”
Adrian took a breath.
“Because your mother asked me not to be.”
Matteo watched Elena absorb the answer.
“Why?”
“Meet me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Public place. No security.”
Matteo shook his head.
Adrian continued.
“You can bring Valente.”
That surprised everyone.
Two hours later, Matteo and Elena entered a small lakeside restaurant north of Chicago.
Adrian Russo sat alone near the windows.
He was sixty-two.
Gray hair.
Dark suit.
Calm eyes.
When Elena approached, something broke through his controlled expression.
Recognition.
Pain.
Wonder.
“You look like her,” he whispered.
Elena sat.
Matteo remained standing.
Adrian glanced at him.
“Sit, Valente.”
“This isn’t dinner.”
“No. It’s thirty years late.”
Matteo sat.
Adrian told the story.
He and Sofia met when they were twenty-five.
Adrian was already involved with people Antonio distrusted.
Sofia became pregnant.
Then she discovered Adrian’s partners were using his businesses for criminal operations.
She left.
Antonio helped her disappear.
“Your father protected my mother?” Elena asked Matteo.
Adrian nodded.
“He gave her money. Found her work. Made me promise never to approach you unless Sofia allowed it.”
“And you listened?”
“At first.”
Elena’s eyes hardened.
“At first?”
“I watched from a distance.”
“You watched?”
“School concerts. Graduation. Your first job.”
Elena looked horrified.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“You stood somewhere watching me live my life and never said anything?”
Adrian’s eyes lowered.
“I was a coward.”
The answer disarmed her slightly.
He didn’t defend himself.
Didn’t blame Sofia.
Didn’t claim nobility.
“I told myself staying away protected you,” he continued. “Eventually I realized it also protected me from hearing you say you didn’t want me.”
Elena looked toward the lake.
Matteo understood that kind of fear.
Adrian then turned toward him.
“I wasn’t trying to destroy your businesses.”
“You’ve spent six months doing a good impression.”
“I was trying to find Vittorio.”
Matteo frowned.
“Why?”
“He approached me eight months ago. Claimed he had evidence Antonio stole money from both of us.”
“And?”
“I knew it was false.”
“Then why engage?”
“Because I wanted him close.”
Adrian handed Matteo a folder.
Inside were financial transfers.
Vittorio had been rebuilding his network.
Buying officials.
Paying informants.
Bribing private security contractors.
Including the contractor that installed Matteo’s cameras.
Marco cursed when he saw the name.
“That explains the missing footage.”
Adrian nodded.
“He wanted you paranoid. Distrustful. Isolated.”
Matteo looked at Elena.
“And Elena?”
“Leverage.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“He learned she was my daughter. He believed hurting her would force me to cooperate.”
Elena’s voice became quiet.
“Everyone keeps saying they were protecting me.”
Neither man responded.
“And yet nobody thought telling me the truth might help.”
That landed on both of them.
Adrian looked ashamed.
Matteo looked away.
Elena stood.
“I’m done being the secret in everyone else’s story.”
She left the restaurant.
Matteo started after her.
Adrian spoke.
“She loves you.”
Matteo stopped.
He looked back slowly.
Adrian almost smiled.
“Don’t look so terrified.”
“She barely knows me.”
“People can know someone for twenty years and understand nothing. Sometimes twenty days is enough.”
Matteo said nothing.
Adrian continued.
“You watch the room whenever she enters.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means exactly what you’re afraid it means.”
Outside, Elena stood near the parking lot.
Snow had begun falling.
Matteo approached.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Fair.”
She looked at him.
“Do you always answer emotional crises like business meetings?”
“Yes.”
She laughed despite herself.
There it was again.
That sound.
Matteo smiled.
This time he didn’t stop himself.
Elena stared.
“You do know how.”
“What?”
“Smile.”
“Occasionally.”
“I thought maybe it required board approval.”
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Elena’s expression softened.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Matteo said:
“I owe you an apology.”
“For the cameras?”
“Among other things.”
“The accusation?”
“Yes.”
“The bedroom search?”
“Yes.”
“The shirt interrogation?”
“That shirt was expensive.”
She rolled her eyes.
He looked at her.
“Elena.”
She met his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
The humor disappeared.
She believed him.
“I know.”
Matteo moved slightly closer.
“So what happens now?”
“I find somewhere else to work.”
His face changed.
“You’re leaving?”
“I can’t keep cleaning your house after all this.”
“You don’t have to.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Their faces were close.
Too close.
Elena’s breath caught.
Matteo lowered his eyes toward her mouth.
Then his phone rang.
Marco.
Matteo stepped back.
“What?”
“Boss, Vittorio escaped custody.”
Matteo froze.
“How?”
“He had help.”
“From who?”
Marco hesitated.
“Adrian Russo’s security chief.”
Matteo turned toward the restaurant.
Through the window, Adrian’s chair was empty.
Elena noticed.
“What?”
Before Matteo could answer, an explosion of alarms sounded from the restaurant parking lot.
Not a bomb.
A vehicle alarm.
Matteo turned.
Elena’s car door stood open.
On the driver’s seat lay the battered Seiko watch.
Antonio’s watch.
Beside it was a note.
Elena picked it up.
Matteo read over her shoulder.
Your mother lied about one last thing. Ask Russo what happened the night Sofia died.
Elena went still.
Her mother’s death had been ruled complications from illness.
Natural causes.
Five years ago.
But when Matteo looked back toward the restaurant, Adrian Russo was gone.
May you like
And for the first time, Elena wondered whether the father she had just found might be connected to the loss she had never questioned.
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