Chapter 3

My brother didn't get up.

"If the price of being Don is hurting Elena, then I don't want it."

"What did you say?!"

My father's voice rose sharply.

A second later, I heard a chair crash over the line as someone kicked it aside.

"Matteo, I've spent more than 20 years grooming you!

"And now, over one little test, you're telling me you don't want to be Don?!"

My brother's voice shook with tears. "One little test? Dad, this test is putting Elena's life in danger!"

After a long silence, my father answered through clenched teeth.

"I've spent 22 whole years teaching you, and I can't believe you're still not good enough!

"With me here, Elena will be fine!

"But you! If we'd done things your way, Elena would already be dead!"

Hearing how sure of himself my father was, I closed my eyes in despair.

I suddenly remembered when I was 13. My brother had talked back to one of the elders at a family banquet, and my father had made me kneel in the main hall all night as punishment.

I could still hear what he'd said. "Matteo needs to remember this. When he acts on impulse, the people closest to him are the ones who get humiliated."

My knees stayed swollen for three days after that night, but my father didn't see anything wrong with it.

The kidnapper had been listening for a while, looking skeptical. Suddenly, he laughed. "Don Moretti, you really think this is your classroom?"

My father's voice hardened. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"The six men you sent died three hours ago."

The line went silent. My brother leaped to his feet.

"What?!"

My father's voice turned sharp. "Who are you?"

The kidnapper laughed.

"Finally, the right question. But I'm not going to tell you.

"Go check the south road. See what's left of your men."

My father gave the order at once. "Get the team on the radio."

One call.

Two.

Six radios. Not a single answer.

The kidnapper went on, in no hurry at all.

"The cars, the guns, the masks, the radios. We took it all.

"And that check-in you got earlier? That was us too."

I slowly clenched my fists.

Less than a minute later, Lorenzo's call came through.

"Don, we found them.

"All six are dead. The bodies are on the south road."

"What?!"

My father shot to his feet so fast his chair crashed to the floor behind him.

"Useless idiots!"

In a rage, he swept every glass off the table.

"Six men have been dead for three hours, and you're only finding out now!"

My brother grabbed a gun, his eyes bloodshot. "Can I save her now?" he roared.

This time, my father finally stopped arguing. He sounded shaken.

"Lorenzo, take the soldiers in.

"I want Elena out of there alive!"

Soon, gunfire broke out outside the warehouse.

The kidnapper whipped around.

Some of the kidnappers ran for the back door. Someone grabbed the back of my chair and dragged me deeper inside.

My wounded leg was jolted again and again in the chaos.

Through the pain, I kept my eyes on the iron door and let myself hope.

Before long, I heard my brother's voice. "Elena!"

My brother burst in.

He slashed through the ropes and scooped me up in his arms.

"Look at me! Stay awake!"

I wanted to answer him, but all I could taste was blood.

My father was the last one to walk in.

When he saw my legs, the color drained from his face for a second. But he quickly regained his composure.

"See? I told you. With me here, Elena will be fine."

As my brother carried me past him, my father spoke up, perfectly sure of himself.

"Matteo, did you see how a real Don gets things done?

"If I hadn't been there guiding you today, there wouldn't be anything left of Elena to bury.

"Remember—"

My brother cut him off with a roar. "You're still lecturing at a time like this! If it weren't for you, Elena would—"

He looked down at my face as I drifted in and out of consciousness. He broke off mid-sentence and bolted for the door.

Half an hour later, I was wheeled into the Moretti family's private clinic.

Dr. Paolo Conti cut open my pant leg. Alarm flashed across his face.

"She's lost too much blood.

"Start a transfusion now. Prep her for surgery."

At last, I let myself breathe.

The operating room doors were about to close.

But my father suddenly reached out and stopped them.

He was staring at the blood bags in a nurse's hands.

"Wait.

"Who brought this blood?"