Chapter 8 - The Room Nobody Opened
The old Russo mansion had been empty for years.
Nobody went there.
Not employees.
Not family.
Not even Callum.
Too many memories lived inside those walls.
Memories of a father who was strict but fair.
A father who taught him never to trust easily.
A father who died before telling him the truth.
But tonight, Callum returned.
Alone.
Exactly as the message demanded.
Or at least…
that was what everyone thought.
Because Sadie followed him.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Callum stood outside the mansion door and looked at her.
“How long have you been following me?”
Sadie crossed her arms.
“Long enough.”
“This is dangerous.”
“So is walking into a trap alone.”
Callum stared at her.
“You don’t listen.”
She shrugged.
“You noticed.”
For a second, he almost smiled.
Almost.
Then he unlocked the door.
Inside, everything remained untouched.
The furniture.
The paintings.
The photographs.
It felt like time had stopped.
Sadie walked slowly.
“This place feels…”
“Dead?”
She looked at him.
“I was going to say lonely.”
Callum looked away.
He didn’t answer.
They reached the second floor.
At the end of the hallway was a wooden door.
Locked.
Callum inserted the old key.
It turned immediately.
The room opened.
Dust filled the air.
Inside was Anthony Russo’s private office.
Sadie looked around.
“He left everything?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Callum stepped inside.
“Because I couldn’t bring myself to clean it.”
That admission surprised her.
The most powerful man in Chicago had kept his father’s office untouched for ten years.
Not because he forgot.
Because he remembered too much.
They searched through files.
Old contracts.
Photographs.
Letters.
Then Sadie found something.
“Callum.”
He turned.
She held an old photograph.
Three men stood together.
Anthony Russo.
Daniel Miller.
And another man.
A younger man.
Callum took the picture.
His face changed.
“Who is he?”
Sadie asked.
Callum stared.
“I don’t know.”
But she knew he was lying.
“You do.”
A long silence.
Finally, Callum spoke.
“My uncle.”
Sadie frowned.
“You have an uncle?”
“I did.”
“What happened?”
Callum placed the picture down.
“My father said he disappeared.”
“When?”
“Six months before my father died.”
Sadie looked at the photograph.
“So your uncle vanished…”
“Then my father was killed.”
The connection was obvious.
Before they could continue, a sound came from downstairs.
A door opening.
Callum immediately moved in front of Sadie.
Someone was inside.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Calm.
Not afraid.
Callum reached for his weapon.
The footsteps stopped.
Then a voice echoed through the mansion.
“You always were your father’s son.”
Callum froze.
Because he knew that voice.
A voice he hadn’t heard since childhood.
A voice that belonged to someone who was supposed to be dead.
“Uncle Victor?”
The man stepped into the hallway.
Older.
Gray hair.
But alive.
Sadie whispered:
“That’s impossible.”
Victor Russo smiled.
“No, sweetheart.”
He looked at Callum.
“What’s impossible is that you survived this long without knowing the truth.”
Callum raised his weapon.
“You were dead.”
Victor laughed.
“Your father wanted everyone to believe that.”
“Why?”
Victor looked at him.
“Because he was trying to protect you.”
A heavy silence followed.
Then Victor said the words that changed everything.
“Callum…”
He looked directly at him.
“Your father wasn’t murdered by his enemies.”
A pause.
“He was murdered by someone he trusted.”
Sadie looked at Callum.
Callum didn’t move.
“Who?”
May you like
Victor’s expression turned serious.
“The person standing closest to him.”
