Chapter 6
Federal agents arrived before dawn.
Dante handed them copies of Marco’s files and the intruders’ phones.
Old habits made him keep the originals.
At Peter Salvi’s house in New Jersey, agents found cash, burner phones, records from Bello Holdings—
and Peter himself.
Alive.
He surrendered.
They also found a sealed envelope addressed to Dante.
Seven years old.
Marco’s handwriting.
Dante opened it in the library.
VINCENT DID NOT ORDER MY DEATH ALONE.
The next line named Carlo Moretti.
Dante’s uncle.
Carlo had stood beside him at Marco’s funeral. He had advised peace. He had called Marco’s murder “the cost of careless enemies.”
Marco’s letter told a different story.
Carlo had been stealing from Moretti construction accounts and using Bello to hide the money. Marco confronted him.
Three days later, he was dead.
Rocco whispered, “Carlo is in Greenwich.”
“Call no one there.”
Dante phoned Carlo himself.
His uncle answered warmly.
“I heard Vanessa caused trouble.”
“News travels.”
“In our family, always.”
Dante stared at Marco’s letter.
“Do you remember Peter Salvi?”
Silence.
Then Carlo said, “No.”
“You should.”
“Dante, grief makes men believe strange things.”
“My grief had seven years to cool.”
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
Carlo laughed softly. “You already have a version.”
Dante said, “Marco left me a letter.”
Carlo hung up.
Rocco swore.
“Now he runs.”
He was wrong.
Ten minutes later, the gate called.
Carlo Moretti had arrived alone.
He entered the library, saw Marco’s letter, and smiled without humor.
“So the dead boy finally spoke.”
Dante pointed to a chair.
“Sit.”
Carlo did.
Then he looked at Elena.
“Get the maid out.”
Dante’s voice hardened.
“She stays.”
Carlo’s smile widened.
“That’s your first mistake.”
He looked directly at Elena.
May you like
“Because she knows what Marco never told you.”
And Elena went pale.
