Chapter 5: The Name Matteo Never Forgot
For a moment, Vincent thought he had misunderstood.
The room was too quiet.
The kind of silence that came before a storm.
Matteo stood in the doorway, his hands shaking slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Vincent had seen powerful men break under pressure.
He had seen enemies beg for mercy.
But he had never seen his own son look this afraid.
“Say it again,” Vincent said.
Matteo swallowed.
“I saw who came into the dining room after everyone left.””
Vincent stepped closer.
“Who?””
Matteo looked at the people around him.
At Lucia.
At Alessandro.
At Elena.
Then he whispered:
“Uncle Alessandro.””
The room changed instantly.
Alessandro’s face went pale.
Lucia looked away.
Elena closed her eyes.
Vincent stared at his older brother.
“No.””
The word came out quietly.
Not because he didn’t believe Matteo.
Because he didn’t want to.
Alessandro had been beside him since they were young.
He had been the person Vincent trusted when nobody else could be trusted.
His right hand.
His protector.
His brother.
“Matteo,” Vincent said gently, “are you sure?””
The boy nodded.
“I remember his shoes.””
Everyone looked confused.
Vincent frowned.
“His shoes?””
Matteo nodded again.
“I was under the table. I couldn’t see faces clearly. But I saw his shoes.””
He pointed toward Alessandro.
“Black leather. A scratch on the left side.””
Alessandro immediately looked down.
Vincent noticed.
That reaction was enough.
“Is that true?”” Vincent asked.
Alessandro said nothing.
Vincent’s voice became colder.
“Is it?””
Alessandro slowly sat down.
“Yes.””
The answer hit the room.
Elena covered her mouth.
Vincent stepped back.
“Why were you there?””
Alessandro looked exhausted.
“Because I was trying to fix something.””
“Fix what?””
“Lucia had lost control.””
Lucia turned sharply.
“Watch your words.””
Alessandro ignored her.
“Matteo had been complaining for months.””
Vincent looked at Lucia.
“You knew?””
Lucia’s expression hardened.
“He was a difficult child.””
The room went silent.
Vincent slowly turned back.
“Difficult?””
Lucia lifted her chin.
“He was emotional. Sensitive. He needed discipline.””
Vincent stared at her.
“My son was six years old.””
“He needed to understand respect.””
Matteo stepped backward.
Vincent saw it.
He saw his son reliving every moment.
And something inside him finally broke.
“No one speaks about my son like that.””
Lucia looked offended.
“I raised him.””
“No.””
Vincent’s voice cut through the room.
“You controlled him.””
Alessandro stood.
“Vincent, you need to understand what happened.””
“I need the truth.””
His brother hesitated.
Then he spoke.
“That night, Matteo found something.””
Vincent narrowed his eyes.
“Found what?””
Alessandro looked at the old photograph.
“Documents.””
The room became tense.
“What documents?””
Alessandro walked to the desk and opened the locked file.
“Financial records.””
Vincent looked confused.
“What does that have to do with my son?””
“Everything.””
Alessandro removed several papers.
“These records showed money being moved without your approval.””
Vincent stared.
“By who?””
Alessandro did not answer immediately.
That was the answer.
Vincent looked at Lucia.
Then Elena.
Then back at Alessandro.
“My family?””
Alessandro nodded.
“Lucia had been using the family accounts for years.””
Lucia’s face changed.
“You are blaming me because you were too weak to stop it.””
Alessandro looked at her.
“You threatened everyone who tried.””
Vincent picked up the papers.
“Why hide this from me?””
Alessandro looked ashamed.
“Because when I found out, Matteo had already been hurt.””
Vincent froze.
“Already?””
Alessandro looked toward Matteo.
“I thought if I told you everything, you would destroy the entire family.””
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“You should have let me.””
A sound came from the hallway.
A door closing.
Everyone turned.
Carlo rushed toward the window.
“Someone was outside.””
Vincent immediately moved.
“Who?””
Carlo looked down.
The driveway was empty.
But something had been left on the ground.
An envelope.
Vincent walked outside.
The cold night air surrounded him.
He picked it up.
No name.
No address.
Only one sentence written across the front.
*You are looking in the wrong direction.*
Vincent opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
A newer photograph.
Taken recently.
His breath stopped.
Because it showed Matteo.
Watching him.
From a distance.
Someone had been following his son.
May you like
And on the back of the photograph were five words:
*Ask your wife what she knows.*
