LOGINThe year I returned to the Moretti family, everyone expected the biological daughter and the adopted daughter to fight for their place in the family. But Gianna was different. She was the first to learn sign language so she could communicate with me. She knew I hated sitting with my back to a door. She also knew I didn't want anyone asking why I still refused to speak after two years back home. That night, at a charity gala, my father was supposed to sign an agreement that would end our family's involvement in the port's illegal operations. Instead, Luca Vitale stormed in with representatives from eight families and proposed a toast to my father. He took one sip and collapsed. A second later, the ballroom screen lit up. Gianna's payment to a pharmacist and chat messages mentioning "Dad's wine" had been used to make it look like she'd bought drugs to murder our father. She really had made that payment. She handed over her phone for everyone to see, but the original messages had been deleted, and she couldn't recover them. Luca gave us ten minutes: hand over Gianna or hand over the port. All the while, Luca's doctor stood beside my father with a syringe in his hand. He refused to say where he'd gotten it. My mother told Luca, "You can have the port. You can't have either of my daughters." Gianna pulled away from her anyway and walked straight to Luca. All she asked was that he let our father go to the hospital first. As she passed me, she signed with trembling hands, "Don't tell them about your past for my sake." I stared at the syringe. I'd seen that same medical kit at the clinic in Malta. I'd also seen what happened to patients once they became bargaining chips. If Gianna was willing to go that far for me, then I was willing to risk everything for her, just this once.
View MoreSix months later, my father still met with the investigators regularly. Whenever the phone rang at home, he'd glance out the window first, as if cars might still be outside waiting for his orders. My mother would remind him to finish his breakfast. He no longer had to choose a call from the port over a plate of cold eggs. Instead, he often didn't know what to do with a quiet day.Moretti Logistics continued operating under independent oversight. Some of the casino holdings were sold to compensate and support affected employees.Lorenzo ran the legitimate shipping business. Every new contract he signed had to be reviewed by an outside auditor, and it took him time to get used to that.Matteo was still working through the cooperation agreement and sometimes got home too late for dinner.Dante took a job in security at the medical center. The first rule he put in place was that no one was allowed to argue loudly outside the exam rooms.Nico finished his ER rotation and sometimes came home
The next day, the church in Little Italy opened its doors. The eight families sat in their usual pews out of habit, but this time there were no gunmen outside clearing the street for them. Luca was in federal custody. Only his lawyer came, bringing a statement that claimed all the evidence had been fabricated by the Moretti family to cover up its old crimes.Rosa had briefly regained consciousness in the hospital. Nico told me she still needed to be monitored and would not be able to testify anytime soon.When I told Gianna, she took my hand and said we should focus on presenting the facts we could prove today.The church windows were set high, and the sunlight did not reach the front row. My father sat there, with the Don's seat beside him empty.Enzo did not order the statement torn up. Instead, he asked the Bellini family's doctor to speak first. The doctor had brought a preserved sample from the deceased Bellini heir, along with the independent retest records. He stuck to what the
The latch on the case clicked open softly. Luca pulled out the top page. All he saw were case numbers, test dates, and a string of index codes that couldn't be traced back to names. He flipped through several more pages, and his expression slowly turned cold."Where are the full records?""Not here."He let out a laugh, but his eyes stayed cold. He threw the papers on the floor and moved the needle from Rosa's neck to her arm. I stepped forward, but I was still a split second too slow. Rosa flinched in pain, and the chair slammed against the edge of the platform."Now you can chase me," Luca said, "or save her."He ran for the exit on the other side. I rushed over and caught Rosa. Her breaths grew shorter and shorter. The pulse at her wrist raced, then slowed. I cut her free, lowered her until she lay flat, and took the last shot out of its temperature-controlled case.Rosa recognized the label and tugged at my sleeve, as if she was afraid I'd waste my only chance on her. I said, "Forg
The families' meeting scheduled for the next day was moved up to that night. Someone suggested sending gunmen to sweep the port. Someone else wanted to use Luca's relatives to draw him out. Every plan promised speed. None addressed the real problem: Luca had Rosa, and the original medical records were scattered across systems in New York and Malta. Tearing the port apart would not save her.Enzo called in from Sicily. First, he asked to see the retest results for his own sample. Then he listened in silence while the other bosses argued. He was the same man who had allowed Luca, the Vitale heir, to surround my family with his men. When someone asked him to order his grandson to release Rosa, he said Luca was no longer taking his calls. Enzo planned to fly to New York that very night. His voice was tense. I couldn't tell whether he was more worried about Rosa or about losing control of Luca for good."I'll go," Lorenzo said. "Give me the case.""He knows how I work," I answered. "The fil












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