Chapter 7 - Blood Is Not the Same as Loyalty
Salvatore Sacco had been the family's patriarch long before Matthew inherited control of the organization.
He was sixty-eight, silver-haired, and impeccably dressed. He carried a cane because of an old injury, though everyone who knew him understood that the cane was more useful as a symbol than a necessity.
He had taught Matthew how to negotiate, how to recognize a liar, and how to survive in a world where weakness invited exploitation.
He had also helped raise Sophia after her parents died.
Matthew had trusted him with everything.
Which made the photograph feel like a knife between the ribs.
Salvatore approached without hurry.
"What's happened?"
Matthew held up the image.
"Tell me."
His uncle examined it.
For the first time in Matthew's memory, Salvatore looked old.
"Where did you get this?"
"That isn't an answer."
Salvatore glanced at Clara.
"Perhaps we should speak privately."
"No," Clara said.
Both men looked at her.
"Your family has spent eighteen months deciding what everyone else is allowed to know. I'm finished watching people disappear whenever the truth gets uncomfortable."
Salvatore's eyes narrowed.
"You don't understand what you're involving yourself in."
"Then explain it."
He studied her for a moment.
"Your father was a good man."
Clara felt the room tilt.
"You knew him?"
"Yes."
"Was his death an accident?"
Salvatore didn't answer immediately.
That was enough.
Matthew's voice dropped.
"Uncle."
Salvatore looked at him.
"I didn't kill your brother."
"Did you order his death?"
"No."
"Did you know he was investigating the transfers?"
Salvatore's expression changed.
"Yes."
The single word devastated Matthew more than a denial would have.
Salvatore explained that Anthony had discovered a network of financial fraud involving several businesses connected to the family's legitimate holdings. The money had been diverted by someone inside the organization.
Anthony wanted to turn over the evidence.
Salvatore had told him to wait.
He had believed the problem could be contained without exposing the family to criminal investigations, public scandal, and retaliation from rival organizations.
"Anthony refused," Salvatore said. "He believed that if we knew the truth, we had a responsibility to act."
"And you disagreed?" Matthew asked.
"I believed we could handle it ourselves."
"You told the police his death was an accident."
"The evidence supported that conclusion."
"Did you know someone had tampered with the car?"
Salvatore's silence answered.
Matthew stepped back as though his uncle had struck him.
Clara watched him struggle to reconcile the man who had raised him with the man standing before him.
"Who signed the order?" Matthew asked.
Salvatore looked at the photograph again.
"I signed an order to retrieve Anthony's files. I did not order anyone to kill him."
"Who carried it out?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No. I expect you to investigate."
Matthew's face became frighteningly calm.
"Until I know the truth, you no longer have access to my business or my home."
Salvatore nodded slowly.
"I understand."
Then he turned to Clara.
"Your father left something with Anthony. Something more important than the ledger. If Gavin finds it before you do, this will not end with your father's reputation being destroyed."
"What is it?" Clara demanded.
Salvatore's expression tightened.
"A recording."
Before he could explain, a gunshot cracked through the club's rear entrance.
Matthew grabbed Clara and pulled her behind a stone pillar.
Glass shattered.
Security personnel rushed toward the sound.
Salvatore collapsed.
Matthew dropped beside him.
"Uncle!"
Blood spread across Salvatore's sleeve.
A second shot struck the wall above them.
Luca appeared with two guards and dragged them behind cover.
Clara pressed a folded napkin against Salvatore's wound while Matthew barked orders into his phone.
The attack lasted less than a minute.
By the time the police arrived, the shooter had escaped.
Salvatore was rushed to a private hospital.
Matthew accompanied him, his face pale with fury.
Clara followed because she refused to leave until she knew whether Salvatore would survive.
In the hospital corridor, Matthew stood with his hands braced against the wall.
"I should have seen it," he said.
Clara remained beside him.
"You didn't create what happened."
"I trusted him."
"Trust isn't a crime."
"In my world, it can be."
She looked at him.
"Then perhaps your world needs to change."
He turned toward her.
For a moment, all the power and control seemed to fall away.
"I don't know how to do that."
It was the most honest thing he'd said to her.
Clara wanted to comfort him.
She also wanted to protect herself from the strange pull she felt whenever his guard came down.
So she did neither.
She simply stood beside him.
Hours later, a surgeon emerged.
Salvatore had survived, but he remained unconscious.
Matthew's phone vibrated.
Luca had received a message from an unknown sender.
It contained a short video.
In the footage, Anthony Sacco stood inside a warehouse, arguing with a man whose face was hidden by the camera angle.
The man placed a document on a table.
Anthony looked at it and said something the camera barely captured.
Then the audio became clear.
"You signed the order, Richard. You can't pretend this was an accident."
The video ended.
Matthew watched it twice.
Richard Hale had been the last person to access the financial records before Anthony died.
May you like
Now he had been recorded arguing with him about an order.
And somewhere in Los Angeles, Richard was preparing to make sure no one heard the rest of the conversation.
