Chương 6 - THE UNCLE WHO TAUGHT DANTE EVERYTHING
Vittorio Valente looked nothing like a traitor.
That was probably why he had been so good at it.
He was sixty-two, silver-haired, elegant, and carried himself with the calm authority of a man who had spent decades entering rooms where no one questioned whether he belonged.
Dante stood.
“Uncle.”
Vittorio’s eyes moved to Sienna.
Then Rocco.
Then Lucia.
“This meeting seems crowded.”
Rocco laughed.
“You were always late when the truth arrived.”
Vittorio ignored him.
Dante did not.
“Did you forge my father’s authorization?”
Silence.
Not long.
Enough.
Vittorio walked toward the empty chair.
“No.”
Dante’s face hardened.
Rocco smiled.
“Ask him why the ink is different.”
Vittorio stopped.
Sienna watched.
Tiny pause.
Jaw tightening.
Eyes shifting toward Lucia.
He knew about the ledger page.
That was enough to matter.
Sienna said, “You knew the book still existed.”
Vittorio looked at her.
“Miss Moretti.”
“Do not use polite voice.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You have spirit.”
“I wait tables.”
Something about the answer bothered him.
Good.
Dante stepped closer.
“Answer.”
Vittorio looked at his nephew.
“I did not kill Paolo Moretti.”
“Did you authorize his removal?”
“No.”
“Did you alter the ledger?”
“No.”
Rocco leaned back.
“Three no’s. Almost convincing.”
Vittorio turned.
“You want to discuss altered records, Rocco? Shall we discuss the Santoro pension accounts?”
“Gladly.”
Lucia stood.
“Enough.”
Every man at the table stopped.
She looked at Vittorio.
“I saw you bring Carlo the authorization.”
Vittorio’s face changed.
Barely.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You told me Paolo had agreed to testify against both families.”
“He had.”
“You told Carlo Paolo had given Santoro our routes.”
“That was intelligence.”
“False intelligence.”
“I did not know that then.”
Lucia stared.
“Carlo refused.”
Dante turned sharply.
“What?”
Lucia’s eyes filled.
“He refused the order.”
Sienna stopped breathing.
Marco had remembered a signed paper.
Not the argument.
Lucia continued.
“Carlo said Paolo was a witness, not a soldier.”
Dante looked stunned.
That sentence did not redeem Carlo.
It did change one fact.
His father had not wanted Paolo killed.
Lucia looked at Vittorio.
“You took the paper back.”
Vittorio’s jaw tightened.
“What happened after?”
He said nothing.
Rocco answered.
“Paolo disappeared.”
The room went cold.
Dante’s voice lowered.
“Uncle.”
Vittorio looked toward him.
“You raised me.”
“Yes.”
“After my father died.”
“Yes.”
“You taught me who to trust.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill Paolo Moretti?”
Vittorio’s face hardened.
“No.”
Sienna believed he was lying.
Not because of intuition.
Because he answered too cleanly.
She had waited tables for ten years.
People lying about why they wanted a refund did the same thing.
Certainty could be performance.
She said, “Then who did?”
Vittorio looked at her.
“I do not know.”
“Better lie.”
His eyes narrowed.
Dante almost turned toward her.
Sienna continued.
“You knew I existed?”
Another pause.
“No.”
“Bad lie again.”
Vittorio’s mouth tightened.
Rocco smiled.
“She is entertaining.”
Sienna looked at him.
“You tried to kill Lucia in a tea shop.”
His smile disappeared.
“Do not get comfortable.”
Lucia stepped forward.
“Was it you?”
Everyone turned.
“What?” Rocco asked.
“The Gilded Leaf.”
Lucia’s voice became cold.
“Were those your men?”
Rocco stared.
Then laughed once.
“No.”
Dante went still.
“Your insignia was found on the car.”
“Convenient.”
“You visited Marco.”
“Yes.”
“Your men followed Sienna’s storage unit.”
Rocco frowned.
“No.”
Sienna’s skin chilled.
“What?”
Rocco looked at her.
“I visited Marco because I learned Lucia had contacted him years ago.”
“How?”
Rocco’s eyes moved toward Vittorio.
“Anonymous message.”
The room changed.
Dante looked at his uncle.
Vittorio’s face remained calm.
Rocco continued.
“I wanted the ledger. I admit it.”
At least that.
“But I did not send men to kill Lucia.”
“Why should we believe you?” Dante asked.
“You should not.”
Rocco smiled faintly.
“You should verify.”
Sienna hated how much sense that made.
Dante turned toward Bellini.
“Commission adjourned.”
Vittorio laughed.
“You cannot adjourn—”
Dante looked at him.
The room obeyed.
Rocco stood.
Before leaving, he looked at Sienna.
“Paolo was brave.”
Her chest tightened.
“You knew him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Did you want him dead?”
Rocco’s face changed.
“Yes.”
Honest.
Ugly.
“But wanting and ordering are different crimes.”
He left.
That sentence stayed.
At the estate, Dante locked down the property.
Not because Rocco threatened.
Because the threat had moved inside the Valente family.
Vittorio did not return with them.
He claimed insult.
Dante let him leave.
Sienna questioned that.
“You just let the possible traitor walk?”
“If I hold him without evidence, every person loyal to him chooses a side.”
“Strategy.”
“Yes.”
“I hate strategy.”
“I know.”
Forensics returned at midnight.
The ledger line had been altered.
Original ink dated to the page.
The words C.V. APPROVES were added later with a different pen.
Could not identify who.
But Carlo’s approval was forged.
Dante sat alone in the library.
Sienna found him there.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I am unemployed by mafia.”
He almost smiled.
Then looked at the forensic report.
“My father did terrible things.”
“I know.”
“He stole. Bribed. Hurt people.”
“Yes.”
“But not this.”
“Apparently not.”
Dante closed his eyes.
“I spent fifteen years hating him for crimes he committed and crimes he did not.”
Sienna sat across from him.
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It was efficient.”
She looked at him.
He smiled faintly.
“You would not understand.”
“I understand overdue rent. Similar emotional architecture.”
That made him laugh.
Quiet.
Then serious.
“Sienna.”
“Yes?”
“Why did you agree to the engagement?”
“We have not announced it yet.”
“Why did you agree to consider it?”
She thought.
“Because Rocco’s rules were already being used against me.”
“And?”
“And because your mother once helped my parents hide me.”
He nodded.
“Not because of me.”
The question surprised her.
“No.”
Something closed in his face.
She noticed.
Then hated that she noticed.
“Were you hoping?”
“No.”
Too fast.
She raised an eyebrow.
Dante sighed.
“This is not a useful conversation.”
“Agreed.”
Silence stretched.
Then Sienna said:
“You threw my phone away.”
His expression changed.
“I know.”
“My mother’s last voicemail was on it.”
He went still.
“I did not know.”
“You did not ask.”
There it was.
Dante looked down.
“No.”
Sienna continued.
“You keep saying security as though the word makes every decision yours.”
He did not defend himself.
“I lost something because you were afraid.”
His face tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him.
He meant it.
Not enough to restore the voicemail.
Enough to matter.
“I had it for eight years.”
“I’ll try to recover the phone.”
“It was on the highway.”
“I have people.”
She almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“I am serious.”
“Do not send six men onto an interstate for a dead iPhone.”
“Four.”
“Dante.”
“Kidding.”
She stared.
“That was a joke.”
“Yes.”
“You said you never joke.”
“I was wrong.”
Something shifted.
Not romance exactly.
Room for it.
Then security chief Tomas Greco entered.
His face ended the moment.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We traced the tea-shop car.”
Dante sat straighter.
“Owner?”
“Shell company.”
“Connected to?”
Tomas looked toward Sienna.
“Valente Holdings.”
Silence.
Dante stood.
“Who authorized vehicle access?”
Tomas put a file on the desk.
“Corporate security credential.”
Dante opened it.
His face became stone.
Name:
VITTORIO VALENTE.
Sienna stopped breathing.
The men sent to kill Lucia had not come from Santoro.
They had come from Dante’s own uncle.
Then Tomas added:
“There is more.”
He placed a photograph on the table.
Security footage from Marco’s old nursing home.
The day Rocco visited.
Thirty minutes before him, another visitor had entered.
Vittorio.
Sienna stared.
“Why did he see my father?”
Dante’s face hardened.
“Because he wanted to know whether Marco still remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
A voice came from the library door.
Lucia.
She stood pale.
“The night Paolo died.”
Sienna turned.
Lucia continued.
“Marco was there.”
Lucia entered fully and closed the library door.
“Marco drove Paolo that night.”
Sienna stared.
“Where?”
“To a warehouse near the river.”
“Why?”
“Paolo had arranged to meet an investigator.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“Did he arrive?”
“No.”
Lucia looked at Sienna.
“Marco told me later that a Valente car intercepted them.”
“Who was inside?”
“He never saw the driver clearly.”
“Then how do you know Vittorio?”
“I don’t.”
Lucia’s voice sharpened.
“That is the point. We have spent decades turning suspicions into family history.”
Sienna looked toward the photograph of Vittorio entering Hawthorne.
“But he visited Dad before Rocco.”
“Yes.”
“And sent the tea-shop car.”
“Apparently.”
Dante said, “That is evidence of now. Not fifteen years ago.”
Sienna looked at him.
“Good.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You’re finally separating what you know from what you inherited.”
The sentence landed.
Dante looked toward the dark windows.
“So what do we do?”
Sienna thought of Marco’s confused face.
“Tomorrow, we ask my father once.”
Lucia frowned.
“His memory—”
“I know.”
Sienna’s voice softened.
“We do not keep pulling at him because we need answers.”
Dante nodded.
“One conversation.”
“And if he cannot tell us?”
“We use records.”
Sienna looked at him.
“No interrogation.”
“Agreed.”
“No men standing behind him.”
“Agreed.”
“And no telling him Paolo was murdered unless he brings it up.”
Dante hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Agreed.”
Lucia watched them both.
Something almost like approval moved across her face.
Sienna noticed.
So did Dante.
May you like
Neither commented.
That was probably wise.
