Chapter 5 - Secrets Written in a Dead Sister’s Handwriting
The aftermath of the Plaza Athenee confrontation sent shockwaves through New York’s underworld. By nightfall, the Vitali family had lost three major shipping terminals, and Don Carmine was forced into hiding after the syndicate Commission officially sanctioned Matteo Duca’s retaliation.
Inside the quiet sanctuary of the penthouse library, Lena sat on the plush rug near the roaring fireplace, surrounded by three faded, leather-bound notebooks.
These were the diaries of Clara Carter—Lena’s older sister, who had died five years ago.
Matteo walked into the room carrying two mugs of hot tea. He had discarded his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his black shirt, looking less like a ruthless mob king and more like a man carrying the weight of a thousand battles.
He handed Lena a mug and sat beside her on the floor, leaning his back against the mahogany bookshelf. "You haven't slept in thirty-six hours, Lena. What are you looking for in those books?"
Lena ran her fingers across the worn leather cover. Her eyes were rimmed with red. "Five years ago, Clara worked as an executive assistant at the Grand Balario Hotel. She was twenty-four. Smart, ambitious, full of life. One night, they found her body in the alley behind the service entrance. The police said she slipped from a sixth-floor balcony during a private party. Case closed in forty-eight hours."
Matteo’s expression turned grim. "You don't believe it was an accident."
"I know it wasn't," Lena whispered, her voice cracking with raw pain. "Clara was terrified of heights. She would never go near an open balcony. Two days before she died, she called me and said she had found documents proving that a major crime family was using the hotel’s offshore accounts to launder human trafficking money."
Matteo went entirely still. The air in the room grew heavy. "Which family?"
Lena opened the middle diary and turned to a page filled with rushed, trembling handwriting. She held it out to Matteo.
Written across the page were dates, bank transfer routing numbers, and a single name circled in dark red ink:
Enzo Vitali. The Balario Vault. Room 1402.
Matteo’s jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his cheek twitched. "Enzo Vitali. Alisandre’s older brother."
"Clara died because she saw something she shouldn't have," Lena said, tears finally slipping down her cheeks. "Just like I did last night. I took that maid job at the Balario four years ago hoping I could find the proof to reopen her murder investigation. But I was nobody. No one listened to me. The hotel managers threatened to fire me if I asked questions."
Matteo reached out. His large, warm hand covered Lena’s trembling fingers, gently squeezing them.
"You are not nobody anymore," Matteo said, his voice thick with a fierce, protective conviction. "Clara was murdered because the Vitalis believed they were untouchable gods in this city. They thought they could kill an innocent girl and sweep her under the rug like dust."
Lena looked into his dark eyes, finding a terrifying, comforting fire burning within them. "Can you help me get justice for her, Matteo? Not mob justice. Real justice."
May you like
Matteo leaned closer, his thumb brushing away a tear from her cheek with startling tenderness. "I will give you both, Lena. I will make Enzo Vitali confess on tape to what he did to your sister. And then I will destroy every single brick of the empire he built on her blood."
For the first time in five years, the suffocating loneliness in Lena’s heart began to lift. In the shadow of the devil himself, she had finally found a protector.
Related Stories
