My Pregnant Wife Vanished From Our Mafia Estate—Then I Found Her Ring in the Crib and a Message Behind a Steel Door

Dr. Enzo Bellini stepped from the confessional holding a pistol low by his leg.

He had delivered half the children in our family, including me.

"Put it down," I said.

"You don't know what you're doing."

"I know you falsified medical records."

His eyes flicked toward the ledger in my hand.

"Grace was sick."

"Grace was imprisoned."

"She was dangerous."

"To whom?"

He looked tired.

"To the family."

Carlo moved toward him. Enzo raised the gun.

"Don't."

I held out the ledger.

"Where is Saint Agnes?"

"Forget the address."

"Where is my son?"

His face softened for half a second.

"The boy is safe."

That was all I needed to hear.

I lunged.

The gun fired into the ceiling.

Carlo struck Enzo's wrist with a candle stand. The weapon skidded across the marble.

I pinned the doctor against the pew.

"Talk."

He finally broke.

My mother had come to him months earlier with evidence that Grace had discovered financial records linking Rossi businesses to illegal transfers made by Matteo and several old capos. Sofia insisted Grace's stress could trigger early labor. Enzo agreed to sedate her for "a few days."

"A few days became three months," I said.

"Your mother kept changing the plan."

"Why?"

"Because Grace hid copies of the records."

"Where?"

"She never told us."

Enzo's voice dropped.

"And because she changed her will."

I froze.

Grace had inherited a minority share of Rossi Maritime from her father. Married to me, her voting rights strengthened my position against Matteo.

"What did she change?"

Enzo swallowed.

"If anything happened to Grace, every share she owned would transfer to your son under an independent trust. Your mother could not control it. Neither could Matteo."

"So they needed both of them gone."

Enzo closed his eyes.

"Your mother said she only wanted leverage."

I tightened my grip.

"Where are they now?"