Chapter 5 - The Brother Who Died Twice
Leo had spent fifteen years believing his brother was dead.
He had attended the funeral.
He had watched the coffin lowered.
He had heard his father's eulogy.
He had stood beside his mother while she cried.
He had carried the weight of Adrian's death like a stone inside his chest.
Now Adrian was standing in a photograph beside Victoria.
Alive.
Leo stared at the image.
"No."
Mateo didn't speak.
"That's not possible."
"I checked it three times."
Leo snatched the photograph.
"Where was this taken?"
"Elena's cemetery."
"When?"
"Tonight."
Leo looked at Beatrice.
She had gone completely still.
"My mother knew him."
Leo nodded.
"Apparently."
"Was he my father?"
The question struck Leo harder than anything else that night.
He looked at her.
"I don't know."
Beatrice laughed bitterly.
"You're the first person in twenty-two years who might actually know."
Leo looked down.
"I thought my brother died."
"Did he?"
"I don't know."
"Then find out."
Leo's eyes hardened.
"I will."
The Rossi family had always buried its secrets deeply.
Sometimes beneath contracts.
Sometimes beneath bodies.
Sometimes beneath entire identities.
But Adrian's disappearance had always been different.
Leo remembered the night.
He was twenty-one.
Adrian was twenty-six.
Their father had been fighting a rival organization.
A car exploded outside a warehouse.
Adrian was inside.
No body was recovered.
Yet the family had held a funeral.
Why?
Because their father had ordered it.
Leo had never questioned him.
Until now.
Mateo pulled up the old case files.
"There's something strange."
"What?"
"The death certificate was issued forty-eight hours after the explosion."
"That's normal."
"No."
Mateo pointed to the document.
"The certificate was signed by a doctor who never examined the body."
Leo looked closer.
"Who?"
"Dr. Samuel Voss."
Beatrice suddenly spoke.
"I know that name."
Leo turned.
"How?"
"My mother mentioned him."
"When?"
"I don't know."
She closed her eyes.
"She told me never to trust a doctor who worked for the Rossi family."
Leo frowned.
"Why?"
"I don't remember."
Then she gasped.
A memory hit her.
She saw Elena running through a hallway.
A little girl in her arms.
Behind them, someone was shouting.
"Give me the child!"
Elena screamed.
"Never!"
A door slammed.
Beatrice opened her eyes.
"My mother was running."
Leo stood.
"From whom?"
"Someone wanted me."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
She pressed her hands against her temples.
"But I remember what she said."
"What?"
Beatrice whispered,
"Your father will never forgive you."
Leo froze.
"My father?"
Beatrice nodded.
"She was talking to someone."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
Then another memory came.
A man standing in the doorway.
Tall.
Dark hair.
A scar across his cheek.
Adrian.
He looked at Elena.
And said:
"Give me my daughter."
Beatrice screamed.
The memory vanished.
Leo stepped back.
"My God."
Mateo looked at him.
"What?"
Beatrice was crying.
"He was my father."
Leo stared.
"Adrian."
She nodded.
"Adrian Rossi was my father."
The revelation changed everything.
If Adrian was Beatrice's father, then Elena had not simply worked for the Rossi family.
She had been part of it.
And Leo's father had known.
Which meant the entire Rossi family had known.
Except Leo.
Or so he thought.
At sunrise, Leo drove to the old Rossi estate.
The house had been abandoned for years.
His father had died there.
Leo had never returned after the funeral.
Now he walked through the front doors with Beatrice beside him.
Dust covered the furniture.
Old portraits stared down from the walls.
Beatrice stopped beneath one.
A portrait of Adrian.
She touched the frame.
"I know him."
Leo looked at her.
"You remember?"
"Not his face."
She closed her eyes.
"His hands."
Leo frowned.
"His hands?"
"He used to carry me."
A tear rolled down her cheek.
"He called me his little star."
Leo turned away.
He couldn't watch.
He had spent twenty-two years believing his brother had died without children.
He had been wrong.
His niece had been living under his roof.
Working for him.
Washing his clothes.
Cooking his meals.
Taking care of his daughter.
And he had never recognized her.
Mateo entered the room.
"Leo."
"What?"
"We found something upstairs."
They followed him.
A bedroom.
Adrian's old room.
On the desk sat a locked wooden box.
Leo broke the lock.
Inside were letters.
All addressed to Elena.
The first one read:
I know what Father plans to do.
The second:
He will use the child to control me.
The third:
If I disappear, take her and run.
Leo read faster.
Then the final letter.
Elena, if anything happens to me, tell Leo the truth. He is the only one who can protect her.
Leo stopped.
"Me."
Beatrice stared.
"Your brother trusted you."
"He never told me."
"Maybe he tried."
Leo looked at the letters.
A terrible possibility formed.
"What if he didn't die?"
Mateo answered quietly.
"What if he was made to disappear?"
Before anyone could respond, the house lights turned on.
A voice came from the hallway.
"Finally."
Leo raised his weapon.
Adrian stepped into the doorway.
Older.
Scarred.
Alive.
His eyes went directly to Beatrice.
"My daughter."
Beatrice couldn't move.
Leo stared at his brother.
"You've been alive."
Adrian smiled without humor.
"Unfortunately."
Leo raised his gun.
"Why?"
Adrian's eyes darkened.
"Because your father killed everyone who knew the truth."
Leo's finger tightened around the trigger.
"Who?"
Adrian looked at Beatrice.
"Your mother."
Then at Leo.
"And Lily's mother."
Leo froze.
Adrian continued.
"Neither woman died because of the bombing."
Silence.
"They were killed because they discovered what our father had done."
Beatrice whispered,
"What did he do?"
May you like
Adrian looked at her.
"He sold children."
