Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER WHO BURNED
Alessio did not sleep.
By dawn, every entrance to the estate had been changed.
Men who had guarded him for years were moved.
Not dismissed.
Moved.
He wanted to see who complained.
Who asked questions.
Who seemed unusually interested in Ruby’s location.
No one was told about Serena’s recording except Claudia.
That decision did not come easily.
For most of his life, Alessio relied on a small group of men without hesitation.
Now Serena’s words poisoned certainty.
Someone who could walk through the estate.
Someone who knew Ruby.
His oldest underboss, Damian Vale, arrived before sunrise.
Damian was forty-eight.
Quiet.
Disciplined.
A man who had spent fifteen years standing one step to Alessio’s right.
He had carried Ruby through the house the day she came home from the hospital.
He had helped Serena build the greenhouse irrigation system when contractors failed twice.
He had buried men for Alessio.
He had buried friends beside him.
“What happened?”
Alessio showed him the injured guard.
Not the recording.
“Someone entered through the east hedge.”
Damian’s expression hardened.
“Inside?”
“Yes.”
“What did they want?”
“They left a message.”
“What message?”
Alessio watched his face.
“A black rose.”
Damian froze.
Just slightly.
“You know it.”
Damian shook his head.
“I’ve heard stories.”
“About?”
“Gabriel.”
Alessio felt something cold.
“You never mentioned them.”
“They were stories about a dead man.”
“Apparently he’s difficult to bury.”
Damian looked at him carefully.
“Why now?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
The two men stood in silence.
Then Damian said:
“If Gabriel is alive, he’s not coming back for money.”
“No.”
“He’s coming for the chair.”
Alessio looked toward the upstairs windows.
“No.”
Damian frowned.
Alessio’s voice became quiet.
“He’s coming for something older.”
That afternoon, Alessio went alone to the family mausoleum.
Gabriel had no body inside it.
Only a stone.
GABRIEL VENTRESCA.
BELOVED SON.
BELOVED BROTHER.
The inscription had always felt dishonest.
Gabriel and Alessio loved each other the way wolves loved littermates.
Fiercely.
Violently.
With teeth never completely hidden.
Gabriel taught Alessio to fight.
Then punished him when he won.
Gabriel protected him from older boys.
Then broke his nose himself a week later.
Their father had made competition into religion.
Only one son would lead.
Gabriel believed the choice had been made at birth.
Then came the warehouse fire.
Alessio remembered arriving while flames consumed the roof.
Damian had not been in the family then.
Neither had Claudia’s husband.
Only a handful of older men survived that generation.
Most were dead.
One was not.
Frank Mercer.
Seventy-three years old.
Former Ventresca driver.
Retired to a small house forty miles north.
Alessio arrived after dark.
Frank opened the door and stared at him.
“You finally found out.”
No greeting.
No denial.
Alessio entered.
“Gabriel.”
Frank closed the door.
“I knew this day would come.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Alessio looked at him.
Frank raised both hands.
“I mean it.”
“You helped him.”
“Yes.”
The answer came too easily to be a lie.
Frank poured whiskey.
Alessio did not take it.
“The fire.”
Frank sat.
“Your brother was supposed to die.”
“By whose order?”
Frank looked toward the window.
“Your father.”
Alessio said nothing.
Frank continued.
“Gabriel had become uncontrollable.”
“That wasn’t new.”
“No.”
Frank’s mouth tightened.
“But he found out the old man had been taking money from people he swore to protect.”
“My father never needed money.”
“It wasn’t about need.”
“What was it about?”
“Control.”
Frank looked at Alessio.
“Your father used debts to own people. Gabriel wanted to expose him.”
“Gabriel cared about honor?”
Frank laughed.
“Gabriel cared about winning.”
That sounded more believable.
“So my father tried to kill his own son.”
“Yes.”
“And Gabriel survived.”
“I pulled him out through the loading dock.”
“Why?”
“I owed your mother.”
Alessio’s mother had died long before.
He filed the detail away.
“What happened after?”
“Gabriel wanted revenge immediately.”
“Why didn’t he come home?”
“Because I told him the old man would kill you next.”
Alessio’s eyes narrowed.
“Me?”
“If Gabriel returned, your father believed you would join him.”
“I might have.”
“That was the problem.”
Frank looked at his glass.
“Gabriel disappeared.”
“For seventeen years?”
“No.”
Frank met his eyes.
“He came back eight years ago.”
Alessio’s breathing slowed.
“My father died nine years ago.”
“I know.”
“Gabriel returned a year later.”
“Why?”
“To see whether you had become him.”
The words hit harder than Alessio expected.
“What did he decide?”
Frank hesitated.
“That you were worse in some ways.”
Alessio almost smiled.
“And better in others.”
“Where did he go?”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“What happened with Serena?”
Frank’s face changed.
There.
Alessio saw it.
“You knew her.”
“She came here.”
“When?”
“Three months before she died.”
“What did she want?”
“Gabriel.”
“Did you give him to her?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him she was looking?”
Frank looked away.
“Yes.”
Alessio stepped closer.
“What happened next?”
“I don’t know.”
“Frank.”
“I swear.”
The old man looked suddenly tired.
“But Serena said something before she left.”
“What?”
“She said if Gabriel was still alive, then the wrong brother had inherited the family.”
Alessio stared at him.
Anger moved through him.
May you like
Then Frank finished:
“And she said that might be exactly what someone wanted.”
