Chapter 6: The Man Who Pulled Me From the Fire
The question remained on my phone screen.
*Who saved you that night?*
I stared at it for a long time.
Long enough for Elena to understand that I had remembered something.
She always knew when I was hiding pain.
That was one of the things I hated most about her.
She could still see the little brother underneath the man everyone else feared.
“Dante.””
I locked the phone.
“Not now.””
Her expression changed.
Not anger.
Not hurt.
Fear.
Because she knew that tone.
It was the tone I used when I was about to do something dangerous.
“What are you going to do?””
I stood.
“Find out what happened.””
“You’re going after Marcus.””
“No.””
I grabbed my coat.
“I’m going after the truth.””
Elena stepped in front of me.
“You don’t understand.””
I looked at her.
“Then explain.””
She shook her head.
“I can’t.””
The answer made me stop.
Not because it surprised me.
Because it confirmed something.
Everyone had pieces of the story.
Everyone except me.
“You can’t?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because Maya made me promise.””
I laughed quietly.
“Maya made you promise.””
I looked around the room.
“My father made promises.””
“Victor made promises.””
“Maya made promises.””
I looked back at her.
“And everyone forgot to tell me the truth.””
“Dante—”
“No.””
My voice stayed calm.
“That’s what hurts.””
I walked past her.
“Not that people lied.””
I opened the door.
“That they decided I wasn’t strong enough to handle the truth.””
The door closed behind me.
Outside, Nico was waiting.
He leaned against the car, holding a file.
“You look like you’re about to start a war.””
I took the file.
“Maybe I am.””
He watched me carefully.
“What happened?””
I opened the file.
Inside were documents.
Photos.
Old records.
Everything about Victor Moretti.
And one photograph.
My father.
Victor.
Marcus.
Twenty years ago.
Standing outside the same warehouse where Elena was found.
My stomach tightened.
“Where did you get this?””
Nico looked uncomfortable.
“That’s the problem.””
“What?””
“Someone wanted us to find it.””
I looked up.
“What do you mean?””
“The records were already prepared.””
He pointed to the folder.
“No missing pages. No destroyed files. No hidden information.””
“That’s unusual.””
“Exactly.””
I closed the file.
“Someone is feeding us information.””
Nico nodded.
“And they want you to follow it.””
I looked toward the house.
Toward Elena.
Toward everything I thought I knew.
“Then we follow.””
Nico frowned.
“You’re sure?””
“No.””
I got into the car.
“But I’m tired of being the last person to know what’s happening in my own life.””
The address in the file led us to an old private storage facility near the docks.
A place abandoned years ago.
At least officially.
The gate was broken.
The cameras were disabled.
Too easy.
I hated that.
“Stay behind me,” Nico said.
I almost smiled.
“You’re telling me that?””
“Yes.””
“You know I’m the one who trained you.””
“And you know I’m the one who watched you get stabbed because you thought you were invincible.””
I looked at him.
He didn’t smile.
Fair point.
We entered the building.
Inside were rows of old storage units.
Dust.
Rust.
Silence.
Then Nico stopped.
“What?””
He pointed.
Unit 27.
The lock was already broken.
I opened the door.
Inside was a single box.
No trap.
No guards.
No warning.
Just a box.
I picked it up.
Heavy.
Inside were old documents.
A recording device.
And a letter.
My name was written on the front.
*Dante.*
My hands went still.
Because I knew the handwriting.
Maya.
I opened it.
Dante,
If you’re reading this, then something went wrong.
I know you’ll be angry.
You’ll think I betrayed you.
You’ll think I chose secrets over family.
But I need you to understand something.
I was trying to protect the only person who never stopped protecting me.
I stopped reading.
Nico looked at me.
“What does it say?””
I continued.
Dad wasn’t killed because of what he knew.
He was killed because of what he refused to do.
I turned the page.
He was supposed to hand over the files.
He refused.
And when Marcus realized Dad wouldn’t cooperate, he made a choice.
My jaw tightened.
But Marcus wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger.
I froze.
The next line was written darker.
As if Maya pressed the pen harder.
Dante, the person who killed Dad was someone you loved.
I stopped breathing.
Nico saw my face.
“What?””
I handed him the letter.
He read silently.
Then looked at me.
“Dante…”
I didn’t answer.
Because my mind was already moving.
Someone I loved.
Someone close enough to be there.
Someone who could walk into our home.
Someone who knew our family.
Someone who could survive afterward.
My father’s death wasn’t an attack from outside.
It came from inside.
The recording device suddenly clicked.
Both of us froze.
A voice filled the room.
My father’s voice.
Twenty years younger.
My heart stopped.
“Dante.””
I grabbed the device.
The recording continued.
“If you’re hearing this, then I’m gone.””
The sound cracked.
Static.
Then his voice returned.
“I need you to listen carefully.””
I closed my eyes.
Because I had spent twenty years wishing I could hear him again.
I never imagined it would hurt this much.
“I made mistakes.””
My father paused.
“Big ones.””
The recording continued.
“But my biggest mistake was believing I could fix this alone.””
A noise in the background.
Someone walking.
Then my father spoke again.
“Dante, there is someone in this family who betrayed us.””
My fingers tightened.
“I need you to understand something.””
His voice lowered.
“They didn’t do it because they hated us.””
A pause.
“They did it because they were afraid.””
The recording ended.
Just like that.
No name.
No answer.
Only silence.
Nico looked at me.
“We need to find the rest.””
I nodded.
But something bothered me.
The recording was incomplete.
Someone had cut it.
Someone removed the most important part.
The name.
I looked inside the box again.
There was one more item.
A small key.
Attached to it was a tag.
Three numbers.
*0909*
My birth date.
I stared at it.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Nobody spoke.
Only breathing.
Then a woman’s voice.
Maya.
“Dante.””
My entire body froze.
“Maya?””
A shaky breath.
“You found the box.””
“How are you calling me?””
“Because I don’t have much time.””
I stepped away from Nico.
“Where are you?””
“I can’t tell you.””
“Maya, listen to me—”
“No.””
Her voice cracked.
“Listen to me.””
I went silent.
“You need to stop looking for the person who killed Dad.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
“Because that’s not the real danger.””
A pause.
“What are you talking about?””
Her voice became quieter.
“Dante…”
The fear in her voice was worse than anything else.
“Dad wasn’t trying to expose Marcus.””
I froze.
“Then who?””
A long silence.
Then she whispered:
“He was trying to expose you.””
The call ended.
I stood there holding the phone.
Unable to move.
Nico approached.
“What did she say?””
I looked at him.
At the letter.
At the recording.
At the key.
Then I said the only thing I could.
“The truth I’ve been searching for…”
I swallowed.
“Maybe it was never about who killed my father.””
Outside, the dock lights flickered against the dark water.
And somewhere in the city, someone was watching me.
Because a second later, my phone received one final message.
A photograph.
Not of Maya.
Not of Elena.
Not of my father.
A photograph of me.
Taken twenty years ago.
May you like
Standing beside my father’s body.
Holding the weapon that killed him.
