After I died, my phone kept ringing.It was my father, Victor Moretti.He kept calling, desperate to know if I'd made it onto the evacuation convoy.Worried that he might find out what really happened, Matteo and the others finally picked up.They lied and told him I'd been shot during the evacuation and urgently needed a blood transfusion from a relative with the same blood type."The FBI could track this place down any minute. Don't bring anyone. Come alone."Afraid I wouldn't make it until he arrived, my father rushed over without even alerting his guards.But Matteo and the others had quietly sealed off every exit and were lying in wait inside.The moment my father stepped through the door, gunfire erupted from every direction.Dozens of bullets tore into his body.He collapsed beside my body, still calling my name.What was left of my soul lunged at Matteo, desperate to tear him apart with my own hands.But my hands passed through him again and again. I couldn't do a thing.Matteo
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