Chapter 7 - THE UNCLE WHO OWNED EVERY SHADOW|
Raffaele Moretti was the last person Ettore wanted to suspect.
The older man had raised him after Salvatore's death, taught him how to negotiate, and helped him hold the family together during its most violent years. He had attended Ettore's mother's funeral, stood beside him at his first business opening, and called him son when nobody else could reach him.
For years, Ettore had believed that Raffaele's loyalty was the one thing in his life that could never be questioned.
Now Teresa was telling him that the man had orchestrated his father's disappearance.
"How do you know?" Ettore asked.
Teresa's hands shook as she adjusted the blanket.
"Because I worked for him."
Donatella pulled a chair beside the bed.
"Worked for him doing what?"
"I was the family's accountant before your mother took over the books. Raffaele handled the private accounts. He was clever, patient, and very good at making theft look like a necessary expense."
"Why would he want Salvatore gone?"
"Your grandfather discovered that Raffaele was moving money into companies that did not exist outside paper records. Salvatore planned to turn the evidence over to federal investigators. Raffaele learned about it and arranged a meeting on the mountain road."
Ettore stared at the floor.
"The accident."
Teresa nodded.
"The car was supposed to explode with Salvatore inside. But he escaped before it burned. He was badly injured, and Raffaele arranged for him to be taken somewhere no one would search."
"Where?"
"I never knew the location. Only the doctor who treated him knew. That doctor died several years ago."
Ettore's hands curled into fists.
"Why didn't you tell me when I was younger?"
"Because Raffaele controlled the family. He controlled the police officers who investigated the accident, the lawyer who handled the estate, and the people who brought your father's belongings home. I had two children to protect. One was Isabella."
Donatella felt a chill.
"My mother knew?"
"She found a copy of the original accounts. She tried to tell Ettore's father what she had discovered, but Raffaele learned about it first. He convinced Salvatore that Isabella was working with the thieves. Then he threatened to kill her if she spoke again."
Ettore closed his eyes.
All those years, he had believed Isabella abandoned his family because she wanted money and freedom. He had hated her for leaving his father during his final months, never knowing that she might have been running for her life.
"Where is the safety deposit box?" he asked.
Teresa gave Donatella the bank's name and the number of the box. It was located inside a downtown institution that had served the Mancini family for generations.
"We should go now," Donatella said.
Ettore shook his head.
"Raffaele will be watching every bank connected to our names. We'll need a lawyer, a clean vehicle, and a way to confirm that the box hasn't been accessed."
"Then use my mother's name. The account is in her name, not yours."
He looked at her.
"You're willing to walk into a building connected to this conspiracy?"
"I'm willing to find out why my mother spent her final years looking over her shoulder."
Before they left, Ettore arranged for Teresa to be guarded by hospital staff he personally trusted. Donatella also insisted that an independent doctor examine her aunt and document her condition.
As they drove downtown, Ettore finally spoke.
"If this is true, my uncle has used me for decades."
"And if it isn't true?"
"Then I will have to apologize to a man I love like a father."
Donatella watched the city pass outside the window.
"You sound more afraid of that than you do of finding out he tried to kill your real father."
Ettore gave a humorless laugh.
"Fear has never been my problem. Knowing whom to trust has."
They arrived at the bank shortly before closing. The manager recognized Donatella's identification and escorted them into a private vault room.
The brass key turned smoothly.
Inside the box lay a thick black ledger, a bundle of letters, a small cassette recorder, and an envelope bearing Donatella's full name.
She reached for the envelope.
Before she could open it, the bank manager returned with two security officers.
"I'm sorry," he said, avoiding her eyes. "We've received a legal order requiring us to surrender all contents of this box."
Ettore stood slowly.
"From whom?"
The manager placed a document on the table.
The authorization carried a judge's signature—and the seal of a court that had never existed.
Donatella examined the paper for three seconds.
Then she looked up.
"This order is fake."
The manager blinked.
"How can you possibly know?"
"Because the judge who supposedly signed it died eleven months ago."
Ettore reached for his phone.
But the vault door slammed shut behind them.
And a voice came through the speaker above the door.
May you like
"Thank you for bringing me the ledger, nephew."
Raffaele Moretti had been waiting for them.
