Chapter 8 - BROTHERS
Massimo pointed his gun at Luca.
Luca didn’t move.
“That’s convenient,” Luca said.
Camila backed against the wall.
“I saw the transfers.”
“What transfers?” Massimo asked.
“Money from a company linked to Luca.”
Luca laughed.
“Linked how?”
“I found the account numbers.”
“You’re a receptionist at a clinic.”
“I used to work in accounting.”
Luca looked at Massimo.
“This is insane.”
“Give me your phone.”
“No.”
Massimo raised the gun.
“Phone.”
Luca slowly placed it on the table.
I watched his face.
Too calm.
Massimo scrolled.
Then stopped.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Nothing.
Massimo turned the screen toward us.
Messages.
Payments.
Dates.
One date was three days before Massimo’s crash.
Luca looked genuinely stunned.
“That isn’t mine.”
“It came from your number.”
“My phone was cloned.”
“Convenient.”
“You know me.”
Massimo laughed bitterly.
“I thought I did.”
Luca stepped closer.
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
“That almost sounds affectionate.”
“I took a bullet for you when I was nineteen.”
“And maybe you finally got tired of taking them.”
Luca’s eyes filled with rage.
“You know what I got tired of?”
“Tell me.”
“Being your shadow.”
Silence.
Luca’s voice rose.
“Dad beat both of us, Massimo. He turned both of us into weapons. But somehow you got the empire and I got the privilege of standing three feet behind you pretending I didn’t exist.”
“There it is.”
“That doesn’t mean I tried to kill you.”
“It means you had a reason.”
Luca’s face broke.
“For God’s sake, you’re my brother.”
Massimo looked away.
That was the moment I believed Luca.
Not because of his words.
Because Massimo wanted to believe him too.
His phone rang.
Pier Twelve.
Midnight approaching.
“We’re out of time,” I said.
Massimo looked at me.
“You stay here.”
“Not happening.”
“Tessa.”
“That’s my mother.”
“And they want me.”
“So we both go.”
Luca grabbed his jacket.
“I’m coming.”
Massimo stared at him.
“You expect me to trust you?”
“No.”
Luca checked his gun.
“I expect you to keep your enemies where you can see them.”
At 11:48 p.m., we reached the pier.
Cold wind hit the water.
Shipping containers formed dark walls around us.
Massimo remained in the SUV.
Luca and I hid nearby.
A black van appeared.
Two men pulled my mother out.
My heart stopped.
She was alive.
Massimo rolled forward alone.
“Release her.”
A man stepped from the shadows.
Elena gasped beside me.
She had insisted on coming.
“My son,” she whispered.
The man walked toward Massimo.
Then another figure emerged behind him.
Older.
Silver hair.
A cane.
Massimo went completely still.
“No.”
Luca whispered one word.
“Impossible.”
The older man smiled.
“Hello, boys.”
Massimo’s face drained of color.
I looked between them.
“Who is that?”
Luca stared at the man like he had seen a ghost.
“Our father.”
May you like
Massimo’s voice barely came out.
“You died eight years ago.”
