My Father Sacrificed Me To Teach My Brother To Be the Don

A bullet tore into my left leg. The pain jolted me back to my senses. I knew right away that something was wrong.

My father had told me this was only a drill.

His men would stop my car, blindfold me, and take me to a warehouse outside the city. They'd set up a kidnapping that looked real, and my brother would have to handle it.

But they wouldn't use live rounds, and they would never actually hurt me.

Now a bullet was lodged in my leg, and blood had already run down my boot and onto the floor.

I barely had the strength to lift my head and look at the six masked men standing in front of me.

The man closest to me had a black snake tattooed between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand.

To the Moretti family, that mark was the worst possible sign.

The man in charge took my phone and called my father.

"Don Moretti. I've heard so much about you.

"I'm not going to get greedy. All I want is ten million euros. You have two hours.

"If the money doesn't hit the account, I take something from your daughter."

The line went quiet for two seconds, as if my father had sensed something was wrong too.

"Let me hear her voice."

Their leader put the call on speaker and held the phone up to my face.

"Talk."

"Dad! They're not your men!"

The kidnapper grabbed my jaw so hard he nearly dislocated it.

"All I wanted was proof of life."

Thankfully, my father had already heard me.

"Elena, what do you mean?"

I rushed to get the words out.

"Black snake.

"They've got black snake tattoos on their hands. And they don't even know the abort code."

The line went dead silent. When my father spoke again, his voice was ice-cold.

"Black snake?

"Elena, lying is a bad habit. Do you want this test to end so badly that you'd make up something like that?"

I was about to explain when the kidnapper's eyes went cold. He jammed the muzzle of his gun right into the wound in my leg.

I screamed.

My brother immediately yelled, "Dad, maybe something really is wrong! End the test! Tell them to let her go right now!"

My father ignored him and gave someone beside him a cold order. "Now."

Hurried footsteps sounded in the background. Soon, another voice came on the line. "Don, the team just checked in. All six men are at the south warehouse. Everything's fine."

I froze.

That couldn't be right.

My father scoffed.

"You hear that? My men have eyes on everything!

"Lying won't get you anywhere, Elena.

"Besides, it's normal for them to change their look at the last minute for a drill."

My brother sounded terrified. "But Dad, Elena really has been shot!"

"Which is exactly why you need to stay calm! In a real kidnapping, that would count as a minor injury!"

My father lowered his voice.

"Matteo, one day you're going to sit in my chair.

"If you lose your head the second your sister cries out in pain, you won't live long enough to take over."

The kidnapper had been listening for a while, clearly enjoying himself. He stuck a finger in his ear and snorted.

"Don Moretti.

"I don't care how you train your heir. Let's talk money."

My brother seized on his words like a lifeline.

"Yes! I'll pay! It's only ten million! I can pay!

"Just let Elena go, and I'll pay whatever you want!"

My father slammed his palm on the table.

"Don't be stupid! Paying the ransom is the worst thing you could do. You're my son. How can you let the enemy push you around?!"

Then he sighed.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. The test goes on. I'll give you a little more time to decide what to do.

"But remember this. In real life, kidnappers don't give you time to think."

Then he hung up, just like that, and left me staring at the kidnapper in horror.

Instead of getting angry that my father had hung up on him, the leader laughed. "A test? Ha! Looks like your father really trusts his own people, huh?"

My heart sank. I was shaking as I spoke. "My family has money. Please, just wait a little longer, okay? My brother will pay you!"

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside the warehouse. Someone pushed the door open.

"There are Moretti men outside."

"Who's leading them?"

"Lorenzo."

My breath caught.

Lorenzo Greco had been at my father's side for more than 20 years. He was one of the Moretti family's best capos.

He'd found me.

I closed my eyes, my heart pounding with relief and hope.