The Mafia Boss Discovered His Father Was Alive—But the Real Betrayal Was Still Coming (Part 3)

My father was alive.

For eighteen years, I had visited his grave every Christmas.

For eighteen years, I had believed the man who taught me everything about loyalty had died protecting our family.

Now he was sitting beside Elena Bennett.

And smiling.

I threw Marco’s phone against the wall.

“Find him.”

Marco didn’t move.

“There’s something you should know first.”

I turned slowly.

“Say it.”

“Enzo woke up.”

We rushed to the surgical recovery unit.

Enzo Caruso lay beneath white blankets, his chest wrapped in bandages.

His face was gray.

But his eyes were open.

“Luca,” he whispered.

I gripped his shoulder.

“Who attacked you?”

Enzo swallowed painfully.

“Your father.”

I stared at him.

“Vittorio ordered it.”

“Why?”

“Because I found the records.”

“What records?”

Enzo reached beneath his pillow and pulled out a small black memory card.

“Seventeen years of payments. Hospitals. False identities. Offshore accounts. Everything.”

He pressed it into my palm.

“Your father didn’t disappear because someone wanted him dead.”

He coughed.

“He disappeared because he wanted you to become him.”

I felt sick.

Enzo continued.

“He built a second organization while you ran the first. Every enemy you defeated, every war you fought, every shipment you lost—he was behind it.”

I looked at the memory card.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he needed you feared.”

“Feared?”

“Nobody questions a monster, Luca. They just blame him.”

The realization hit me.

For eighteen years, I had carried my father’s crimes without knowing they were his.

Then Enzo grabbed my wrist.

“There’s something worse.”

I leaned closer.

“Elena wasn’t in a car accident.”

The room went silent.

“What?”

“Her injuries were caused deliberately. Someone staged the crash.”

My stomach twisted.

“Who?”

Enzo’s eyes filled with tears.

“She did.”

I stepped backward.

“Who did?”

“Elena.”

I stared at him.

“That’s impossible.”

“She knew you’d be at the hospital. She knew your blood type. She knew the emergency would bring you to her.”

I shook my head.

“No seventeen-year-old girl would nearly sacrifice her life just to meet me.”

Enzo closed his eyes.

“She wasn’t trying to meet you.”

He opened them again.

“She was trying to expose you.”

Before I could respond, every television in the recovery wing switched to the same image.

A live broadcast.

Elena sat in a wheelchair beneath a bright studio light.

Sofia stood beside her.

And behind them stood Vittorio Mancini.

My father leaned toward the camera.

“Good evening, Chicago.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“My son Luca has controlled this city through fear for eighteen years.”

He smiled.

“Tonight, his own daughter will tell you what kind of man he really is.”

Elena looked directly into the camera.

Her face was pale.

Her lips trembled.

Then she spoke.

“My name is Elena Bennett.”

She swallowed.

“And Luca Mancini is not the man everyone thinks he is.”

Vittorio smiled wider.

But Elena reached beneath her blanket.

She lifted a small black device.

A recording transmitter.

Then she said five words that changed everything.

“Grandfather, you’re live too.”

Vittorio’s smile disappeared.

Elena pressed a button.

And his own voice filled the broadcast.

“Make the girl bleed enough to frighten him. Just don’t let her die.”

The studio erupted.

Vittorio lunged toward Elena.

Sofia screamed.

And the camera fell sideways.

The last thing I saw before the broadcast went black was my father pulling a gun.

Then three shots rang out.