Chapter 4 - The Unbroken Choice
By eight o'clock that evening, a heavy autumn rain began to fall over Chicago, drumming a steady rhythm against the reinforced glass windows of the Rossi estate.
Inside Matteo’s bedroom, the soft light of a bedside lamp created a warm, cozy sanctuary. Matteo lay in his bed, his soft blue shirt replaced by comfortable pajamas, looking up at Clara as she adjusted his blanket.
"He's the bad man, isn't he, Clara?" Matteo asked quietly, his young voice clear in the quiet room.
Clara sat on the edge of the bed, holding his small hand in hers. "Your father is going to keep you safe, Matteo. I promise you that. But we have to be smart."
"My mom hid the memory card inside my stuffed bear before the car exploded," Matteo revealed, his eyes glistening with tears. "She told me that if anything ever happened to her, I should give it to someone who didn't work for Uncle Julian."
Clara leaned down, kissing the boy's forehead softly. "You did so well, Matteo. You were so brave."
A quiet knock sounded at the door.
Vincent stepped into the room. He had removed his suit jacket and tie, wearing only his black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing his light stubble and the dark ink along his collarbone. He looked tired, but his presence was as commanding as ever.
Matteo didn't shrink back this time. He looked at his father, his dark eyes meeting Vincent’s gray-blue gaze.
Vincent walked slowly to the side of the bed, sitting in the chair beside Clara. He looked down at his son, his voice dropping into a gentle baritone he rarely used. "How are you feeling, Matteo?"
"Clara says I have choices," Matteo answered softly.
Vincent looked at Clara, a faint, rare softness touching his rugged features. "She's right. You always have choices, son."
Vincent turned his attention back to Matteo. "Miss Hayes told me what you saw in the garden today, Matteo. About Julian's ring."
Matteo nodded slowly, clutching his blanket. "He was at the mechanic shop, Dad. I saw him from the waiting room window. He was putting something under Mom's car."
Vincent’s jaw tightened so hard the muscle flexed beneath his stubble. For fourteen months, he had waged war against rival syndicates in the city, believing his wife's death was an external attack. The realization that his own cousin—a man he had raised like a brother—was the architect of his tragedy was a blade through his heart.
Vincent stood up, looking down at Clara. "Step outside with me for a moment, Miss Hayes."
Clara nodded, gently releasing Matteo’s hand, and followed Vincent out into the dimly lit corridor. Dominic stood watch near the elevator, maintaining a twenty-foot perimeter.
Vincent turned to face Clara, leaning against the wood-paneled wall, his broad shoulders filling the space.
"Julian knows that you know something, Clara," Vincent said softly, his voice thick with concern. "My men swept his private quarters twenty minutes ago. We found an encrypted satellite phone communicating with an untraceable server in Europe."
Clara reached into her hidden blouse pocket and pulled out the silk-wrapped memory card. She held it out toward Vincent on her palm.
"It's damaged, Mr. Rossi," Clara said quietly. "The casing is cracked. If you try to force it into a standard reader, you'll destroy the data inside."
Vincent stared down at the tiny card resting in her hand. He didn't reach for it immediately. Instead, his gray-blue eyes lifted, locking onto hers.
"Why didn't you give this to Dominic yesterday?" Vincent asked.
"Because I didn't know who to trust," Clara replied honestly. "I didn't know if your security chief was compromised, or if you were surrounded by traitors. My priority was keeping Matteo safe."
Vincent reached out, his large, warm hand brushing against her fingers as he took the memory card. The touch sent a subtle, electric charge through the air between them.
"My wife was a cautious woman, Clara," Vincent revealed, his voice low. "She had a private laboratory in the city where she preserved digitized evidence. I know a specialist who can recover this data without damaging the drive."
Before Clara could answer, Dominic rushed down the hallway, his face dark with urgency.
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"Boss," Dominic said, adjusting his earpiece. "Julian just left the estate through the basement garage in an armored sedan. And he didn't go alone—he took three of our senior logistics officers with him."
Vincent’s gray-blue eyes narrowed into icy slits. "Track his vehicle. We're opening that memory card tonight."
