Chapter 10
The passage beneath the chapel opened into an old burial tunnel.
Stefano moved faster than an eighty-year-old man should.
Fear was useful fuel.
Dante followed alone.
Behind him, gunfire stopped.
Then footsteps.
Gabriel.
Of course.
Two angry sons chasing the man who had used them.
Stefano reached an iron door.
Locked.
He cursed.
Dante stopped ten feet away.
Gabriel appeared behind him.
Gun raised.
Stefano turned.
For the first time, he looked afraid.
“Listen.”
Gabriel laughed.
“Now?”
Stefano looked toward Dante.
“Your father knew.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“Knew what?”
“Sofia.”
“Before?”
“No.”
“After.”
Silence.
“Angelo was alive then.”
Three years before Sofia’s death? No. Angelo died eleven years ago, Sofia died three. Impossible.
Dante stared.
Stefano smiled.
“See?”
Gabriel frowned.
“What?”
Dante understood.
“You’re lying.”
Stefano’s smile vanished.
“My father died eleven years ago.”
Sofia died three.
Stefano had lost track.
Old age.
Or panic.
The first crack.
Gabriel saw it too.
“All those years,” he whispered.
“You built stories.”
Stefano’s eyes hardened.
“Stories move men better than facts.”
There.
The philosophy.
Dante stepped closer.
“Rafael?”
“Useful.”
“Gabriel?”
“Useful.”
“Vanessa?”
“Collateral.”
“Ethan?”
“Future.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
“What?”
Stefano smiled.
“Your son.”
“You were preparing him.”
Gabriel stared.
“For what?”
“To hate.”
Dante felt cold.
Stefano continued:
“You thought you were teaching him caution.”
“I was making sure he remembered who the enemy was.”
Gabriel’s gun rose.
Dante did not stop him this time immediately.
He asked:
“Ethan calls Moretti enemy?”
Stefano nodded.
“Eventually.”
Gabriel’s face broke.
He had allowed his revenge to turn his son into another target for manipulation.
Dante saw the realization.
“So this is your legacy,” Dante said.
Stefano laughed.
“You speak like you’re different.”
“No.”
Dante looked at Gabriel.
“That is the problem.”
For years, Dante had used fear.
Gabriel used secrecy.
Vanessa used humiliation.
Rafael used loyalty.
Stefano used grievance.
Different methods.
Same inheritance.
Gabriel lowered the gun slightly.
Stefano moved.
Fast.
A small blade flashed.
Dante caught his wrist.
Gabriel struck him.
The blade fell.
Stefano hit the wall.
Gabriel stood over him.
Rage returned.
Dante did not say stop.
He said:
“Ethan.”
Gabriel froze.
One word.
His son.
Gabriel looked at Stefano.
Then at Dante.
“If I leave him alive—”
“It is not forgiveness.”
“Then what?”
“Refusal.”
Gabriel laughed bitterly.
“Your wife taught you that?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Gabriel stepped back.
Stefano smiled through blood on his lip.
“Weak.”
Dante looked down.
“No.”
“Unfamiliar.”
Footsteps approached.
Rafael entered.
Wounded at the shoulder.
Nico behind him.
Vanessa too.
Rafael looked at Stefano.
“What now?”
Stefano smiled.
“Brother.”
Rafael’s face hardened.
“You left me upstairs.”
“You survived.”
“That was always your answer.”
There.
Another relationship built on use.
Rafael looked at Dante.
“He made me kill Marcus.”
Gabriel’s eyes snapped toward him.
Rafael continued:
“I obeyed.”
“No excuse.”
“None.”
Gabriel stared.
Rafael looked back.
“I killed your father.”
“Yes.”
“My brother ordered the conditions.”
“Yes.”
“Your revenge belongs to both of us.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
Rafael did not move.
“Do it.”
Dante watched.
Gabriel could.
One shot.
A lifetime.
Instead he hit Rafael once.
Rafael fell.
Gabriel stood over him breathing hard.
Then said:
“You don’t get to die and become simpler.”
Dante understood.
May you like
Revenge could be death.
Sometimes living with the truth was darker.
