Chapter 6 - The Secret in the Library
The revelation of my pregnancy transformed my imprisonment into something far more complex. I was moved from the locked third-floor suite to Alessandro's personal wing of the mansion. The doors were unlocked, but four armed guards followed me everywhere I went within the grounds.
Alessandro spent every evening with me. He brought me sweet peaches, fresh milk, and soft wool blankets, sitting beside me while I rested on the garden terrace. The ruthless mafia leader who commanded hundreds of dangerous men would sit quietly on the grass, resting his large hand against my swelling stomach, closing his eyes just to feel the tiny movements of our growing child.
"You're changing," I said softly one evening as the sun set over the Lake Forest estate, casting golden light across his sharp jawline.
"I have something to live for now," Alessandro replied simply, looking up at me. "Before you, this empire was just a heavy coat my father forced me to wear. Now... it's a fortress to protect you and my child."
Despite the growing tenderness between us, the shadow of my father's death and the impending federal trial hung over us like a guillotine.
Three days later, while Alessandro was away in downtown Chicago attending a high-level meeting with his legal team, I decided to take a risk.
I slipped past the guards in the hallway, making my way down to the mansion's private library—a vast, two-story room filled with thousands of leather-bound volumes and old family archives.
If Matteo Vitali wanted me dead, and if my father's red notebook contained the truth about who really burned down my childhood home, the answers had to be tied to the Vitali family's old records.
I spent two hours searching behind the mahogany bookcases, my heart pounding in my throat every time a floorboard creaked. Finally, in a hidden wall safe behind an oil painting of Alessandro's grandfather, I found a stack of old ledger books bound in dark leather.
I pulled one out and flipped through the yellowed pages.
It wasn't a business ledger. It was a blackmail file.
Dated three years ago, the entries detailed wire transfers from an offshore account belonging to Matteo Vitali. The recipient? A private security firm in Chicago known for arson and contract hits.
Tucked between the pages was a single, folded sheet of lined paper written in my father's distinct, neat handwriting:
If you are reading this, Elizabeth, it means Matteo Vitali found out I knew about his illegal weapons shipments through the Obsidian Hotel. Alessandro knows nothing. Matteo is framing his own nephew to take control of the family.
I gasped, dropping the paper. My father hadn't been killed by the Vitali crime family on Alessandro's orders. He had been murdered by Matteo—Alessandro's own uncle—to cover up a betrayal within their own ranks!
"Fascinating reading, isn't it?" a harsh, dry voice echoed from the library entrance.
May you like
I spun around in terror.
Standing at the doorway, holding a heavy suppressed pistol, was Uncle Matteo.
