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Accueil / MM Romance / Hunted Heart:The Mafia's Plaything. / Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 30

Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 30

100

The Mission

The file was thicker than Alex expected.Vincenzo had given it to him that morning, sliding it across the breakfast table like it was nothing. A report. A list of names. Evidence that had been collected over months, maybe years, waiting for the right moment to be used.Now Alex sat in the study, the file open in front of him, and felt something cold settle in his chest.The names were familiar. Some of them he'd known for years—cops he'd worked with, men he'd trusted, faces he'd seen across the bullpen every day. Others were higher up. Commanders. Deputy chiefs. Men who had been running the city while Alex was out there chasing ghosts.And at the center of it all, a name he'd been expecting since last night.The Don.Vincenzo stood by the window, his back to Alex, his hands in his pockets. He'd been there for an hour, not moving, not speaking, just watching the garden where his father sat every morning."He's been running the whole thing," Alex said. His voice was flat. "The De Lucas.

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-12

Interrogation.

The room was the same.Same gray walls. Same metal table. Same single light hanging from the ceiling, casting shadows that made everything look like a crime scene. Alex had sat on the other side of this table a lifetime ago. Now he stood by the door, watching Vincenzo's men secure the man in the chair.His former mentor. The man who had taught him everything. Who had shown him how to work a scene, how to read a suspect, how to survive on the streets when the streets wanted to kill you.Detective Frank Morrison was sixty-two years old. His hair was gray, his face lined, his hands calloused from decades of work. He'd been a cop for forty years, and for thirty-five of them, he'd been taking money from the Don.Alex walked to the table. Sat down across from him."Frank," he said.Morrison looked up. His eyes were the same color they'd always been, a pale blue that Alex had trusted for seven years. But there was something in them now that hadn't been there before. Something that looked lik

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-13

Revelation

The recording was old.Alex could hear it in the quality of the sound, the way it crackled at the edges, the way voices seemed to fade in and out. It had been recorded on something analog, something that had been stored for years, waiting for a moment like this.Vincenzo's hand was steady as he pressed play. His face was pale, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on the small recorder sitting between them on the study desk.The voice that came out of the speaker was thin, reedy, but unmistakable.The Don."He's going to the FBI tomorrow. With everything. The names. The accounts. The deals that go back twenty years. If he talks, we all go down."A pause. Then another voice, younger, rougher. Alex didn't recognize it."What do you want me to do?"The Don's voice was soft, almost gentle. The voice of a man who had spent his life giving orders that ended lives."Make sure he doesn't make it to the meeting."Another pause. Longer this time."He's your—""He's a liability. One I should have dealt

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-13

The Coup

The bank on 6th Street was quiet at 3 AM.Alex had been here before, years ago, on a case that had gone nowhere. He remembered the marble floors, the brass fixtures, the way the light caught the crystal chandeliers. Now it was just shadows and silence and the soft hum of the security system.Vincenzo was beside him, his face hard, his eyes on the vault door. Behind them, three of his men waited, their weapons drawn, their bodies tense."You're sure about this?" Vincenzo asked.Alex pulled out the key Hart had given him. It was old, brass, worn smooth from years of use. "I'm sure."The vault door opened with a sound like a sigh.Inside, the boxes were small, uniform, each one labeled with a number and a name. Alex found the one he was looking for—the Don's name, the number that matched the key—and pulled it out.The box was heavier than he expected.He set it on the table in the center of the vault, his hands steady, his heart pounding. Vincenzo stood beside him, close enough to touch,

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-13

Truth

The explosion came at 6:47 AM.Alex was in the kitchen, coffee in hand, watching Vincenzo read the morning paper like a normal person doing a normal thing on a normal day. The sound hit them both at the same time—a crack of thunder that wasn't thunder, a shudder that ran through the floor, through the walls, through the air itself.Vincenzo was on his feet before Alex could move. His face had gone pale, his hands flat on the table, his eyes fixed on the window that faced the front gate."What was that?" Alex asked. But he knew. He'd heard that sound before. Not often. But enough to know what it meant.Vincenzo was already moving, his phone to his ear, his voice sharp. Alex followed, his coffee forgotten, his heart already pounding.The front gate was gone.Alex stood in the driveway, the morning cold on his face, and stared at the twisted metal that had been a wrought iron gate an hour ago. The stone pillars on either side were cracked, blackened, smoke still rising from the wreckage.

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-13

Hunt

The warehouse was on fire when Alex got there.He'd driven for an hour, following the address Bianca had texted him after the call. His hands were steady on the wheel, his mind clear, his heart a cold weight in his chest. He spent his whole life chasing the truth about his father. He wasn't going to stop now.But the warehouse was already burning.Flames licked at the windows, black smoke pouring into the gray morning sky. Fire trucks were there, their lights flashing, their hoses trained on the building. Police cars blocked the street. Alex parked down the block, walked toward the scene, his badge still in his pocket even though it wasn't his anymore.A uniform stopped him at the tape. "Sir, you can't—""I'm Detective Marchetti." He held up his badge, the one he'd kept even after he'd handed it over. "What happened?"The uniform looked at the badge, looked at Alex's face, looked at the warehouse that was crumbling into ash."Explosion. About twenty minutes ago. Someone called it in."

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-13

The Exchange

The FBI building was quieter than Alex expected.After the initial shock of Vincenzo walking through the doors, after the calls to supervisors and the sealed-off conference room and the agents who looked at Vincenzo like he was a ghost made flesh, things had settled into something almost normal. Vincenzo was in an interrogation room—not a cell, not yet—with Agent Pierce and two other agents Alex didn't know. They'd been in there for three hours.Alex sat in a hallway, on a hard plastic chair, a cup of coffee growing cold beside him. His phone was in his hand. He'd been staring at it for twenty minutes, waiting for a call that hadn't come.The door at the end of the hallway opened. Agent Pierce walked out, his face tired, his tie loosened. He saw Alex and walked toward him."He's telling the truth," Pierce said. "The evidence is real. We've already started verifying some of the transactions. They match records we've had for years but could never connect."Alex's chest loosened, just a

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-13

Betrayal's Cost

The apartment was smaller than Alex remembered.He'd been living at the estate for weeks, sleeping in Vincenzo's bed, eating at Vincenzo's table. Coming back to his own place felt like stepping into a life that belonged to someone else. The same walls. The same furniture. The same coffee cup on the counter, still dirty, waiting for him to wash it.But the photograph on the table was new.Alex picked it up. His hands were steady. His heart was steady. He looked at his mother's face, at the woman who had raised him, who had held him when his father died, who had disappeared from his life years ago without a word.The note was tucked behind the photograph. The same handwriting as the note on the car, as the messages on his phone.She wanted you to know she's safe. She wanted you to know she's sorry. – B.Alex's hand tightened on the photograph. His mother. The woman who had left him when he was eighteen, who had moved across the country, who had called once a year on his birthday and pre

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-13

The rescue

The call came at 3 AM.Alex was asleep, curled against Vincenzo's side, the warmth of him a steady presence in the dark. The phone buzzed once, twice, three times before his brain caught up. He reached for it, his hand fumbling on the nightstand, his eyes still half-closed.The number was blocked."Marchetti," he said. His voice was rough, sleep-thick."Detective." Bianca's voice was smooth, calm, the same voice she'd used at the restaurant. "I hope I'm not interrupting something."Alex sat up. Beside him, Vincenzo stirred, his hand finding Alex's arm."What do you want?""I want you to know that your mother is safe. She's with me. She's being well taken care of." A pause. "For now."Alex's blood ran cold. His hand tightened on the phone. Beside him, Vincenzo was awake now, his face sharp, his eyes on Alex's face."If you hurt her—""I'm not going to hurt her. She's been a loyal friend. A loyal ally. But she's also a liability. And I can't have liabilities, Detective. Not with everyth

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-15

Confrontation

The estate was quiet when they got back.Alex's mother was in the guest room, asleep finally, after hours of crying and talking and crying some more. Alex had sat with her, held her hand, listened to her say she was sorry over and over until the words stopped meaning anything. Then he'd walked her to the room, watched her fall into bed, and closed the door.Now he stood in the study, the same study where this had all started, and stared at the fire.Vincenzo was behind him. Alex could feel him there, the warmth of him, the weight of his presence."You should sleep," Vincenzo said.Alex shook his head. "I can't."He turned. Vincenzo was standing in the doorway, his face tired, his hands in his pockets. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Maybe he hadn't."Your mother," Vincenzo said carefully. "What are you going to do?"Alex walked to the desk, sat on the edge of it. His hands were flat on the wood, the same wood where the box of evidence had sat, where the truth had been laid out

Dernière mise à jour : 2026-04-15

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