Chapter 7 - ROCCO VIERI
Rocco Vieri looked almost exactly as Dante remembered.
That was impossible.
Thirty-one years should have bent him more.
But some men aged like old knives.
Worn.
Still sharp.
Dante arrived with Anthony.
Javier stood beside Rocco near an abandoned roadside chapel.
No weapons visible.
Dante stopped twenty feet away.
“Rocco.”
The old man smiled.
“Little Dante.”
Nobody had called him that since Enzo died.
Anthony moved slightly.
Rocco noticed.
“Still hiding behind men who get paid to love you?”
Dante ignored it.
“Why my children?”
Rocco’s smile disappeared.
“I never told Javier to touch them.”
“You told Leo where to dig.”
“Yes.”
“You knew what would happen.”
“I knew Javier would react.”
“That means you knew enough.”
Rocco accepted the accusation.
“Yes.”
Dante stepped closer.
“If either child had been seriously hurt—”
“You’d kill me.”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe Enzo did teach you something permanent.”
Dante’s eyes hardened.
Javier looked between them.
“Tell him.”
Rocco glanced at Javier.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Dante laughed bitterly.
“So you two have already had your reunion.”
Javier ignored him.
Rocco leaned against the chapel wall.
“Matteo survived the warehouse.”
Dante waited.
“Enzo ordered the fire.”
“Why?”
“Because Matteo discovered Gabriel had not died in an accident.”
Dante’s chest tightened.
“What happened to Gabriel?”
Rocco looked at him.
“Your father killed him.”
Silence.
Dante did not react.
Rocco continued.
“Gabriel wanted to leave.”
“Leave what?”
“The Romano family.”
Dante stared.
“That was enough?”
“Not by itself.”
“What else?”
“He wanted to take you.”
Dante stopped.
“What?”
“You were thirteen. Enzo had already started training you.”
Memories returned.
Not training.
Testing.
Standing through cold nights.
Watching punishments.
Being forced to choose which man lied.
Enzo called it preparation.
Gabriel called it something else.
Rocco continued:
“Gabriel told Enzo he would take you to your mother’s relatives and disappear.”
Dante’s voice went flat.
“So Enzo killed him.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“The cliff story was close.”
Dante stared.
“He pushed him.”
Rocco nodded.
“Matteo saw.”
Javier looked toward Dante.
Everything shifted again.
Matteo had known the truth about Gabriel since youth.
“Why wait years?” Dante asked.
“He was afraid.”
Rocco said it plainly.
“Of Enzo.”
Dante almost laughed.
The same disease.
The same fear.
Matteo had spent years obeying the man he hated.
Then Javier had spent years hating Dante for teaching fear.
The roots went deeper.
“When did Matteo finally move against him?”
“After Javier was born.”
Javier froze.
Rocco looked at him.
“Your father saw Enzo looking at you the same way he once looked at Dante.”
“What way?”
“Like raw material.”
Javier’s face hardened.
Rocco continued:
“Matteo wanted his son out.”
Dante understood.
“I stood with Enzo.”
“Yes.”
“I called Matteo traitor.”
“Yes.”
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Rocco smiled sadly.
“Because I was Enzo’s coward too.”
Nobody spoke.
Rocco looked at Dante.
“You think old men become monsters because they never knew right from wrong.”
He shook his head.
“Most know.”
“That is worse.”
“It is.”
Javier asked:
“What happened after the fire?”
Rocco told them.
He left one warehouse door unlocked.
Matteo escaped.
Teresa hid him.
Aunt Rosa helped.
For six months Matteo recovered.
Then he disappeared voluntarily.
“Why?” Javier asked.
“Because Enzo learned he was alive.”
“From who?”
Rocco looked toward Dante.
“Someone close to you.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“Name.”
“I didn’t know then.”
“And now?”
Rocco hesitated.
That was the first time Dante saw fear in him.
“Now I suspect.”
“Who?”
“Nico.”
Dante’s half-brother.
Rocco continued:
“Nico grew up outside Enzo’s house. Wanted recognition. Wanted his name.”
“So he sold Matteo.”
“Maybe.”
Javier clenched his jaw.
“Where is Nico?”
Rocco’s eyes moved toward the road.
“He contacted me six months ago.”
“Why?”
“He said Enzo’s mistake was leaving too many sons alive.”
Dante felt cold.
Leo.
The son.
Mia too, but the wording was male.
Old obsession with heirs.
“What does he want?”
Rocco looked at him.
“Your chair.”
Dante almost smiled.
“Then he can come ask.”
“No.”
Rocco’s voice sharpened.
“He doesn’t want to defeat you.”
“What?”
“He wants Leo to watch you fail.”
Dante’s face changed.
Rocco continued:
“That is the revenge.”
Not killing Dante.
Breaking the image in his son’s eyes.
Turning father into coward.
Making the next Romano heir inherit contempt instead of loyalty.
Dante understood the cruelty.
It was Enzo’s language inverted.
Rocco handed Javier something.
A small key.
“Your father left this.”
Javier stared.
“For me?”
“For whoever stopped blaming the wrong man first.”
Javier looked at Dante.
Neither spoke.
Rocco walked away.
Anthony raised an eyebrow.
“We’re letting him go?”
Dante watched the old man disappear toward a waiting car.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he finally stopped hiding.”
Then Javier looked at the key.
“What does it open?”
Dante recognized the number engraved on it.
A locker.
Old Romano train station.
Platform thirteen.
Closed twenty years ago.
Javier stared at him.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“Then we go.”
Dante looked at his cousin.
For the first time since the barbecue, Javier was not standing against him.
Not with him either.
Beside.
Temporary.
May you like
Fragile.
Enough.
