Chapter 3 - Sins of the Fathers
Enzo stood in the freezing wind, staring at the glossy photo until the edges curled in the cold.
Salvatore DeLuca had died three years ago of a stroke, leaving Enzo to inherit an empire built on old-school codes and violent diplomacy. Enzo had believed his father was a man of honor—brutal, yes, but governed by lines he never crossed.
This photo burned that belief to ash.
“Bring the flash drive to the secure room,” Enzo ordered Matteo, his voice dangerously low. “Sweep the grounds. Call the cleanup crew for the trash in the hallway.”
“What about the girl, boss?” Matteo asked, eyeing the blood-spattered marble inside.
“She’s my wife,” Enzo snapped. “Treat her like it.”
Enzo climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time. He unlocked the master bedroom door and pushed it open.
Harper hadn’t moved from the corner, but she had managed to put on one of Enzo’s oversized cashmere sweaters over her undergarments. She looked swallowed by the black fabric, her knees pulled tight against her chest, her eyes wide and bloodshot.
“Is he dead?” she whispered.
“No,” Enzo said, closing the door behind him and locking it. “He ran like a coward. But he left something behind.”
He walked across the room and held out the photograph.
Harper stared at the picture. A dry, shuddering sob tore from her throat, but she didn’t look away. Instead, a bitter, exhausted smile touched her lips. “You thought you were punishing him by taking me. You thought this was about your brother Nathan.”
Enzo leaned against the heavy dresser, crossing his arms. “Explain it to me, Harper. Now.”
“Nathan didn't die because of a bad debt,” Harper said, her voice dropping into a dull, flat monotone that signaled years of suppressed trauma. “Nathan found out what our fathers did together. He found the ledger eight months ago.”
Enzo stepped forward, his pulse pounding in his temples. “What ledger?”
“The human trafficking ring,” Harper said plainly. “The one my father ran through the shipping lanes, financed by Salvatore DeLuca. When I tried to run away at eighteen, my father brought your dad into that basement to teach me a lesson about loyalty. Your father held the camera, Enzo. Mine held the belt.”
The room went dead silent. The truth hit Enzo like a hollow-point bullet to the chest. Nathan hadn’t died over money. Nathan had died trying to burn down their own family’s dirty empire.
“Why didn't Nathan tell me?” Enzo asked, the words catching in his throat.
“Because he loved you,” Harper said, looking straight into his eyes. “He wanted to spare you the truth about your father. And now Preston wants that USB drive back because it contains every offshore account, every name, and every DeLuca asset tied to the operation.”
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Before Enzo could respond, the master bedroom lights flickered and died completely.
A heavy siren began to wail throughout the house, and the cold electronic voice of the security system rang through the ceiling speakers: Perimeter breach. Sector Four. Explosive charges detected on foundation walls.
