Chapter 7 - The Other SonI did what any rational woman would do after discovering a secret adult cousin in a basement beneath a mafia gala.
I hit him with the serving tray.
He ducked.
The tray crashed against the wall.
“Okay,” he said. “I probably deserved that.”
“Stay away from me.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“That sentence has had a terrible success rate today.”
He almost smiled.
I reached for my earpiece.
Nothing.
Dead.
He noticed.
“Sandro jams everything below B2.”
“Convenient.”
“For him.”
“For you too.”
He lifted his hands again.
“I am not with him.”
“You just said he’s your father.”
“He is biologically responsible for my existence. That is not the same thing.”
The phrasing sounded familiar.
Rosalia.
Blood was annoying.
“What is your full name?”
“Gabriel Costa.”
“Costa?”
“The people who raised me.”
“Raised you where?”
“Wisconsin.”
I stared.
Of course.
Thirty-three years of Sicilian mafia secrets and the hidden son had been raised in Wisconsin.
“Why?”
“Because Caterina got me out.”
My head spun.
“You’re older than Vincenzo?”
“Three years younger.”
I calculated.
Caterina had disappeared when Vincenzo was four.
“You were born after she disappeared.”
“Yes.”
Something cold slid into place.
I hated where it was going.
“Did Alessandro—”
Gabriel’s face hardened.
“No.”
The answer came fast.
“He did not assault her. My mother had been involved with him before she married Paolo.”
I blinked.
“That is not better.”
“No.”
“Did Paolo know?”
“Eventually.”
I closed my eyes.
This family needed charts.
Possibly legal counsel.
Definitely therapy.
“How much does Vincenzo know?”
“Nothing.”
My stomach tightened.
“You’re his brother.”
“Half.”
“He thinks his mother spent thirty-three years imprisoned.”
“She did.”
“But she had you.”
“For part of it.”
I stared at him.
“Start talking.”
He looked at the red door.
“We don’t have much time.”
“Then talk fast.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
I raised the tray again.
He stopped.
“Fine.”
He leaned against the wall.
“Caterina loved Alessandro when she was young. He was charming, ambitious, and apparently very good at pretending not to be a monster.”
“That tracks.”
“Paolo wanted the Bellandi marriage alliance. Rosalia’s father wanted protection. Caterina was married to Paolo.”
“Against her will?”
“Mostly.”
I thought of Vincenzo saying his father owned her.
“He tried to be a husband,” Gabriel continued. “Whatever that means in families like theirs. Caterina had Vincenzo. She loved him.”
“And Alessandro?”
“Never stopped believing Caterina belonged to him.”
My stomach turned.
“Men and ownership again.”
“Yes.”
“When she tried to leave?”
“Paolo ordered her brought back. Alessandro secretly ordered the team redirected.”
“To Saint Agatha.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“She discovered she was pregnant.”
I looked at him.
“With you.”
“Yes.”
“Did Alessandro know?”
“Not immediately.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
“My mother realized that pregnancy was the only reason he might keep her alive.”
That sentence sat between us.
Ugly.
Human.
Terrible.
“So she used you.”
“Yes.”
“You’re okay with that?”
“No.”
At least he was honest.
“She gave birth at Saint Agatha. Rosalia’s network helped smuggle me out when I was eight months old.”
“Rosalia knew about you?”
“Eventually.”
I laughed softly.
“Of course.”
“She didn’t tell Vincenzo because revealing me meant revealing Caterina was alive.”
“Everyone keeps protecting him by destroying his reality.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“You understand that better than anyone.”
I hated that he was right.
“What is behind the red door?”
“The archive root.”
My hand tightened around the key.
“Why do I have the key?”
“Because Caterina planned this.”
“Being kidnapped?”
“Reaching you.”
I frowned.
“She knew Rosalia was watching you. She knew Mateo knew the verses. She knew sooner or later Alessandro would move.”
“So she let him?”
“No. She anticipated him.”
“Same family habit.”
Gabriel glanced at the elevator.
“We need to open the door.”
I inserted the brass key.
Nothing happened.
“No electronic reader?”
“Voice.”
I stared.
“Of course.”
“What did Mateo teach you?”
I sang the first line of the third verse softly.
The door clicked.
Gabriel stared.
“I haven’t heard that since I was a child.”
“You know it?”
“Part.”
“Final name?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
I opened the door.
Inside was not a vault.
It was a room full of servers.
Old.
New.
Wires.
Metal cabinets.
A wall covered in photographs.
Families.
Judges.
Children.
Newspaper clippings.
Missing-person reports.
And at the center, one computer terminal.
The screen lit.
BELLANDI CONTINUITY PROTOCOL.
VOICE AUTHENTICATION REQUIRED.
Gabriel looked at me.
“Go.”
I stepped toward it.
The microphone activated.
I sang the verse.
The words Nonna had taught Mateo.
The same melody twisted into something darker.
When I reached the unfinished ending, the screen changed.
PRIMARY HEIR RECOGNIZED.
LUCIA ELENA MARINO.
My full name.
I had never hated letters so much.
SECONDARY BLOODLINE REQUIRED.
I looked at Gabriel.
He stared.
“That’s me.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
“Wonderful.”
He stepped forward.
The system scanned.
RUSSO-BELLANDI DESCENDANT CONFIRMED.
GABRIEL CATERINA COSTA.
I looked at him.
“Your middle name is Caterina?”
“My mother had a sense of humor.”
The system continued.
FINAL WITNESS NAME REQUIRED.
There.
The third name.
Mateo had been right.
I touched the keyboard.
Nothing.
Voice only.
“Who is the witness?” I whispered.
Gabriel shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
A slow clap came from the doorway.
My entire body went cold.
Alessandro stood there.
No gun visible.
He did not need one.
Four armed men stood behind him.
“I do.”
Gabriel turned.
Hatred changed his face.
“Father.”
Alessandro smiled.
“Still dramatic.”
I looked between them.
“Apparently hereditary.”
Alessandro’s eyes settled on me.
“You are extraordinary.”
“I get that a lot today.”
“Rosalia raised you better than I expected.”
“She raised me to clean bathrooms.”
“She raised you to survive.”
His gaze moved toward the terminal.
“Step away.”
“No.”
One guard raised his gun.
Gabriel moved in front of me.
Alessandro sighed.
“Son.”
“Don’t.”
“I spared your life.”
“You didn’t know where I was.”
“Eventually I did.”
Gabriel froze.
“You knew?”
“For fifteen years.”
Pain crossed his face.
Alessandro smiled gently.
“I wanted to see what you became.”
“You left me with strangers.”
“Good strangers.”
“They were my parents.”
“Yes.”
The ease of that answer made me hate him more.
“What is the witness name?” I asked.
Alessandro looked at me.
“That is the problem.”
“What?”
“He doesn’t know it either.”
The voice came from behind the guards.
Vincenzo.
Every weapon turned.
He entered with Dante.
Blood marked Dante’s sleeve.
Vincenzo’s tuxedo jacket was gone.
Gun in his hand.
Eyes on Alessandro.
My heart did something stupid.
Relief.
Alessandro smiled.
“Nephew.”
Vincenzo looked at Gabriel.
Then at the terminal.
Then back at Gabriel.
“Who is he?”
Nobody answered.
Gabriel swallowed.
“This is not how I wanted to meet you.”
Vincenzo’s face became unreadable.
“Meet me?”
Alessandro looked delighted.
“Oh, this is going to hurt.”
I stepped forward.
“Don’t.”
But it was too late.
Alessandro said, “Your brother.”
Silence.
Vincenzo stared.
Gabriel stared back.
I watched thirty-three years of missing history land between them.
“No,” Vincenzo said.
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“Half-brother.”
“Whose?”
“Caterina.”
Vincenzo went still.
“And?”
Gabriel looked at Alessandro.
Vincenzo followed his eyes.
Something terrifying entered his expression.
“No.”
Alessandro smiled.
“My son.”
Vincenzo shot him.
The bullet hit Alessandro’s thigh.
Everything exploded.
His guards fired.
Dante pulled me behind a server rack.
Gabriel tackled one man.
Vincenzo fired again.
Lights shattered.
The room filled with sparks.
I crawled toward the terminal.
“Lucia!” Dante yelled.
The screen flashed.
ARCHIVE RELEASE: 18%.
I had no witness name.
No final verse.
No idea what to do.
Then the system displayed another line.
WITNESS CLUE AVAILABLE.
I pressed ENTER.
A recording began.
My father’s voice.
I had not heard Gabriel Bellandi’s voice since I was six.
I stopped breathing.
“If you are hearing this, little star, then I failed to keep the old world away from you.”
Tears filled my eyes instantly.
Little star.
He used to call me that.
Stellina.
I covered my mouth.
Gunfire became distant.
His voice continued.
“The final witness is the one man neither Russo brother could kill.”
I frowned.
One man.
“The one who saw Caterina leave the road alive. The one who carried her son from Saint Agatha. The one who gave Rosalia the first ledger.”
A name appeared blurred on the screen.
Audio only.
My father continued.
“Find the priest who stopped believing in God.”
The recording ended.
I stared.
Priest.
Vincenzo shouted.
“Lucia!”
A man came around the server rack.
Gun raised.
I froze.
A shot cracked.
He fell.
Dante grabbed me.
“Move!”
Vincenzo had Alessandro on the floor.
Gun against his head.
Gabriel stood nearby bleeding from his lip.
Alessandro laughed.
“You still don’t know.”
Vincenzo pressed the barrel harder.
“Father Leone.”
Everyone stopped.
My heart jumped.
Dante looked at me.
“The priest.”
Father Leone.
One of seven people with access to Russo infrastructure.
The man who had baptized Vincenzo.
The man who attended Russo funerals.
The man who had eaten dinner at the penthouse two weeks before I started cleaning there.
Alessandro smiled.
“You are learning.”
Vincenzo’s face changed.
“You used Leone.”
Alessandro laughed.
“No.”
I understood first.
“He used you.”
Alessandro’s smile vanished.
The building alarms suddenly activated.
Not fire.
Evacuation.
Dante’s phone regained signal.
He looked.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Police are coming.”
“How many?”
“All of them.”
“What?”
Dante turned the screen.
Live news.
The first archive documents had named Russo Tower as a site connected to money laundering, witness intimidation, and homicide records.
Federal agents were already mobilizing.
The gala above us had turned into chaos.
Eight hundred guests.
Press cameras.
Police.
Alessandro’s fortress had become the worst place in Chicago to commit another murder.
Vincenzo looked at his uncle.
“You’re finished.”
Alessandro smiled again.
“No.”
He reached into his jacket.
Vincenzo fired.
But Alessandro did not pull a gun.
He held a phone.
One button.
He pressed it.
The server room lights turned red.
PURGE SEQUENCE INITIATED.
00:04:59.
I stared.
“Not another timer.”
Gabriel looked at the ceiling.
“He’s going to destroy the node.”
Vincenzo grabbed Alessandro by the collar.
“How do we stop it?”
Alessandro laughed.
“You can’t.”
I looked at the terminal.
FINAL WITNESS REQUIRED.
Father Leone.
Somewhere in Chicago.
Possibly on Alessandro’s side.
Possibly the oldest traitor in both families.
Four minutes.
Fifty-one seconds.
Then the terminal printed coordinates.
Not an address.
Numbers.
Dante stared.
“I know those.”
“Where?” I asked.
His face went pale.
“Holy Cross Cemetery.”
Vincenzo looked at me.
I looked at him.
The priest who stopped believing in God.
A cemetery.
Of course.
I grabbed the pendant.
“Go.”
Vincenzo shook his head.
“No time.”
“The system wants Father Leone.”
“The building is surrounded.”
“Then find another exit.”
Alessandro laughed from the floor.
“You won’t reach him.”
I turned to him.
“Why?”
His smile was pure malice.
“Because Leone died this morning.”
The countdown continued.
Four minutes.
May you like
Thirty-two seconds.
And somewhere inside a cemetery, the final witness was waiting under a dead man’s name.
