Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Dante
The basement of the Sartori compound has never held this many people.
I stand against the far wall, arms crossed, watching the family arrange themselves on the chairs Vittoria and Liam had brought down an hour ago.
The setup looks wrong. Chairs in neat rows, facing the center of the room where Alejandro Mendoza sits bound to a metal chair. Like a courtroom. Like a trial.
This isn't how interrogations work. Not in our world. Women don't attend. Civilians don't attend. The basement is for blood and screaming and the kind of work that stains your soul if you let yourself think about it too long.
But this is different.
Bruno sits in the front row, Antonella beside him despite his protests. She refused to stay upstairs. Said she had a right to hear whatever truth was about to come out. Bruno stopped arguing when she threatened to sleep in Vittoria's bedroom for a month.
Lorenzo and Sophia sit together, their hands intertwined. He hasn't let her out of his sight since the reveal, since she learned he was alive and collapsed in his arms.
Nico and Kristen occupy the second row. Kristen's jaw is set, her eyes hard. She's seen violence before. Survived it. She won't flinch from whatever happens here.
Vittoria and Dmitri stand near the door. Dmitri's presence is a statement—the Bratva alliance, made physical. His pale eyes track Alejandro's every movement, calculating, patient. Waiting.
Aria sits in the corner, her rosary beads wrapped around her fingers. She hasn't stopped praying since we brought Alejandro in. I don't know if she's praying for his soul or ours.
Marina sits in the back row. Alone. Her hands rest in her lap, and she's watching me instead of Alejandro. I feel the weight of her gaze like a physical touch. She doesn't know what's coming. None of them do.
Except me.
Except Alejandro.
Dmitri steps forward and rips the duct tape from Alejandro's mouth in one clean motion. Alejandro winces, then laughs.
"Dante." He grins at me, blood from a split lip staining his teeth. We didn't touch him. The lip is from the takedown, from when my men forced him to the ground. "You wanted a family reunion? One last gathering before you destroy them all?"
The room goes still.
Bruno rises from his chair. "What the fuck is he saying?"
Alejandro's grin widens. He looks around the room, taking in the faces, the confusion, the dawning horror. His eyes land on me.
"They don't know." He laughs again. "You didn't tell them. Oh, this is perfect. This is—"
"Bruno." My voice cuts through the basement. Calm. Controlled. "Sit down."
Bruno doesn't sit. His hands curl into fists at his sides. "Dante. What is he talking about?"
I push off the wall. Walk slowly toward the center of the room, toward Alejandro. My footsteps echo in the silence.
I stop in front of Alejandro. Look down at him. He's still grinning, still confident, still believing he holds cards worth playing.
"Tell them," I say. "If you want. Tell them everything."
Alejandro's grin falters.
"Go ahead." I crouch down, bringing myself to his eye level.
The room is silent. Waiting.
Alejandro's tongue darts out to wet his lips. The confidence is cracking now. He's smart enough to read the room. Smart enough to understand what I'm offering him.
A chance to speak.
A chance to turn this family against me.
A chance to watch them tear each other apart with the truth.
But also a chance to piss off any one of the people in this room. And if he does that—if he says the wrong thing to the wrong person—he'll face their rage. Not mine. Theirs.
Bruno takes a step forward. "Someone better start talking. Now."
Alejandro looks at Bruno. At the barely contained violence in every line of his body. At the way his hands keep flexing, reaching for weapons that aren't there.
Then he looks at Lorenzo. At the cold fury in his eyes. The man he thought was dead. The man whose death was supposed to be the first domino in a chain that would bring this entire family down.
Then at Dmitri. At the Bratva heir who has no loyalty to Alejandro, no reason to show mercy, no hesitation about violence.
Alejandro's mouth opens.
Then closes.
He's smart. I'll give him that. Smart enough to recognize a trap when he's sitting in the middle of one.
"Nothing to say?" I straighten up. "That's what I thought."
"Dante." Bruno's voice is a growl. "Explain. Now."
I turn to face the family. My family. The people I've protected for twenty years. The people I almost destroyed to save.
"Sit down, Bruno. This is going to take a while."
I take a breath. The room is silent, waiting. Every eye fixed on me.
"Giuseppe Sartori," I begin, "was not the man you thought he was."
Aria is on her feet before I finish the sentence. Her rosary beads clatter against the concrete floor.
"Lies." Her voice shakes with fury. "Whatever this man has told you, whatever poison he has poured into your ears—they are lies. My husband was a good man. A faithful man. He built this family from nothing. He—"
"Mamma."
Vittoria's voice cuts through her mother's tirade. Quiet. Steady. Final.
Aria stops mid-sentence. Turns to look at her daughter.
Vittoria walks forward. Past Bruno. Past Lorenzo. Until she's standing directly in front of her mother. She takes Aria's hands in hers, gentle but firm.
"This is a great moment for you to just listen."
Aria's mouth opens. Closes.
"There are things you don't know about your husband." Vittoria's voice doesn't waver. "Things that many of the people in this room have known for years. Things no one talked about because we were protecting you. Because we love you."
Aria's face goes pale. She looks around the room.
"What..." Aria's voice cracks. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying sit down, Mamma." Vittoria squeezes her hands. "Sit down and let Dante finish. Then you can decide what you believe."
For a long moment, Aria doesn't move. Her eyes search Vittoria's face.
Slowly, Aria lowers herself back into her chair. Her hands tremble as she picks up her rosary beads from the floor.
Vittoria returns to Dmitri's side. He puts a hand on her lower back. Steady. Grounding.
I wait until the room settles. Until everyone's attention returns to me.
"Alejandro Mendoza," I continue, "spent three years investigating Giuseppe Sartori. He found records. Medical files. DNA tests. Evidence that Giuseppe—" I pause. Force the words out. "Evidence that Giuseppe raped his mother. And mine."
The silence is absolute.
"Giuseppe is Alejandro's biological father. And mine."
Bruno's face goes white.
"That's not—" Bruno starts.
"It's true." I don't look away from him. "Alejandro showed me the proof. Medical records from a doctor Giuseppe paid to keep quiet for decades. DNA comparisons. Dates. Everything. And I checked. It is true."
"You're saying..." Bruno's voice is barely a whisper. "You're saying we're brothers?"
"Half-brothers. Yes."
Bruno's legs seem to give out. He sits down hard, the chair scraping against the concrete. Antonella immediately takes his hand.
"Giuseppe ordered the hit on my family," I continue. "My adoptive father—the man who raised me—threatened to expose what Giuseppe had done. So Giuseppe had him killed. Had my mother killed. Had my seven-year-old brother killed. The only reason I survived is because the gun jammed."
I look at Alejandro. He's watching the family's reactions with something that might be satisfaction. Watching his poison spread.
"Alejandro discovered all of this three years ago. He spent years gathering evidence. Planning revenge. And then Vittoria accessed Giuseppe's old files three months ago, and Alejandro's people detected the breach. That's when he realized there was another son. Another victim."
"Me."
The word hangs in the air.
"Alejandro wanted me to avenge what Giuseppe did. To destroy the entire Sartori family. To burn everything Giuseppe built to the ground."
"And you agreed?" Bruno's voice is rising now. "You fucking agreed to—"
"I went to meet him alone." I cut him off.
"What the fuck?" Bruno is on his feet again. "You met with this man—alone—without telling anyone—"
"I would do it again."
Bruno goes still.
"Alejandro was targeting me. Only me. He had surveillance on Marina's parents. On Vittoria. On your mother." I gesture toward Aria, who has gone completely still. "He threatened to kill them all if I didn't come alone. If I involved the family. If I deviated from his instructions in any way."
"So you just—" Bruno's hands are shaking. "You just walked into a meeting with the man who murdered your family? Without backup? Without telling anyone?"
"Yes."
"That's insane. That's fucking—"
"It worked."
Bruno's mouth snaps shut.
"I bought time. I gathered information. I learned what Alejandro really wanted." I pause. "He asked me to kill you all."
The room goes silent again. Heavier this time. Darker.
"Every single one of you." I look around the room. At the faces I've protected for twenty years. "Bruno. Lorenzo. Nico. Vittoria. Your wives. Everyone with Sartori blood. Everyone connected to the family."
Marina makes a small sound in the back of the room. I don't look at her. Can't look at her. Not yet.
"He wanted me to destroy Giuseppe's legacy completely. Burn it to ash. Leave nothing behind."
"And you said yes." Bruno's voice is flat. Dead. "You told him you'd do it."
"I told him what he needed to hear." I meet Bruno's eyes. "I told him I hated you all. That I'd spent twenty years serving the family that destroyed mine. That I wanted revenge as much as he did."
"Go on." Nico tells me.
"Giuseppe didn't just order the hit on my family." I pause, let the words settle. "He orchestrated it through Alejandro's father. They were business partners. Associates. Giuseppe knew exactly who Alejandro was. Knew he was his son."
Aria makes a strangled sound. Her rosary beads slip from her fingers again, scattering across the concrete floor like tiny bones.