Chapter 9 - The Last War at Bellagio
Augusto did not panic.
That surprised me.
He simply looked at Luca, then at me, and sighed.
“So Adrian failed.”
“Spectacularly,” I said.
Augusto smiled faintly.
“Daniel’s sarcasm.”
I hated hearing my father’s name in his mouth.
“Don’t.”
His eyes returned to Luca.
“You believe killing me solves anything?”
Luca walked closer.
“No.”
“Good.”
“It just solves you.”
Augusto laughed.
Then fifty armed men entered the restaurant.
Not Luca’s.
Not Salvatore’s.
Augusto’s.
They came through the kitchen, side entrances and upstairs offices.
Marco swore.
Augusto’s smile widened.
“You thought I owned a restaurant.”
He stood.
“I own the building, the block and half the police officers responding to whatever emergency you call.”
Luca’s men entered behind him.
Guns rose.
The restaurant became a battlefield waiting for one wrong breath.
I remained seated.
Mostly because my knees were weak.
Augusto looked at me.
“Sign the papers and everyone walks away.”
“No.”
“Mara.”
“No.”
“Do you know how many people will die because of your pride?”
I stood.
“My pride?”
“You are holding two families hostage to an emotional idea of freedom.”
“No.”
I pushed the contract back.
“You spent thirty years convincing everyone war was inevitable because it made you rich.”
His expression cooled.
“You killed my father. You killed Alessia. You tried to kill Nico.”
I looked around the room.
“Everyone here is carrying a gun because you taught them they had enemies.”
Some of Augusto’s men shifted.
“Ask yourselves something.”
Luca glanced at me.
He understood what I was doing.
“Who benefited?”
I pointed at Augusto.
“Every time Bellandi men died, he made money. Every time Conti men died, he made money. Every funeral kept him powerful.”
Augusto’s face hardened.
“Enough.”
Salvatore walked through the entrance.
His men followed.
Vittorio came beside him.
For the first time in decades, the heads of Bellandi and Conti stood together.
Not shooting.
Augusto’s men looked uncertain.
Salvatore spoke.
“My son died because of that man.”
Vittorio’s voice followed.
“And I pulled the trigger because I believed his lie.”
The admission stunned the room.
Vittorio never publicly admitted mistakes.
He continued.
“I murdered Daniel Hart.”
My chest tightened.
Celia appeared behind him.
“I hated my father for twenty-six years because of it.”
She looked around.
“But Daniel’s murder began with Augusto.”
Augusto laughed.
“Touching.”
Then Gabriel entered from the kitchen.
Everyone aimed at him.
He raised his hands.
“Easy.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
“You have courage coming here.”
“I have evidence.”
Augusto’s face changed.
Gabriel smiled.
“You should have killed me instead of firing me.”
He placed a drive on the table.
“Every account. Every payment. Every judge. Every detective. Every murder contract.”
Augusto reached for his gun.
Marco shot it from his hand.
Chaos erupted.
Someone fired.
Glass shattered.
People dove behind tables.
I dropped.
Luca covered me.
Salvatore’s men shouted.
Bellandi guards returned fire only toward Augusto’s loyalists.
Then something unexpected happened.
Several of Augusto’s men lowered their weapons.
One shouted, “I’m done!”
Another followed.
Then another.
The balance shifted.
Augusto ran toward the bar.
I saw him reaching beneath it.
“The photograph!”
Luca turned.
Augusto ripped the old photograph of Alessia and Celia from the wall.
Behind it was a keypad.
He entered a code.
A hidden door opened.
“Tunnel!” Marco shouted.
Augusto disappeared.
Luca ran after him.
So did I.
“Mara!”
I ignored that.
Some traditions were now established.
The tunnel descended beneath Bellagio.
Concrete stairs.
Dim lights.
Old pipes.
Luca caught my wrist.
“What part of stay behind do you find confusing?”
“The stay part.”
“Mara.”
“He knows things about my father.”
“He also has a gun.”
“Then stand in front.”
Luca stared.
Then almost laughed.
“You are impossible.”
“Move.”
We followed the tunnel.
It opened beneath an abandoned warehouse two blocks away.
Augusto stood near a parked car.
He held a pistol.
And Nico.
My world stopped.
“No.”
Bianca lay on the floor beside the vehicle.
Conscious.
Bleeding from her forehead.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “He had people at the house.”
Augusto held Nico against his chest.
The baby screamed.
Luca became still in a way I had never seen.
“Give me my son.”
Augusto pressed the gun against Nico’s tiny side.
“Stay there.”
My heart broke at the sound Nico made.
He saw me.
His arms immediately reached.
Toward me.
Exactly as they had in Bellagio.
“Mara!”
Augusto tightened his grip.
Nico screamed harder.
“Stop moving!”
I took one step.
Luca grabbed my arm.
I looked at him.
“Trust me.”
Every instinct in him fought it.
Then slowly—
he let go.
I stepped closer.
“Nico.”
The baby reached.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
Augusto’s attention shifted to me.
“You always were the problem.”
“No.”
Another step.
“I was the thing you couldn’t control.”
His finger tightened around the gun.
“You think being loved makes you powerful?”
“No.”
Nico cried.
“I think it gives people something more important than power.”
Augusto sneered.
“What?”
“A reason to stop being afraid.”
Bianca moved behind him.
She kicked his knee.
Augusto stumbled.
Nico slipped.
I lunged.
I caught the baby.
A gunshot exploded.
Luca tackled Augusto.
I hit the floor with Nico protected beneath my body.
He screamed.
“I’ve got you.”
Another shot.
Marco entered.
“Clear!”
I looked back.
Augusto lay on the ground.
Alive.
Wounded.
Luca stood above him.
Gun aimed at his head.
Augusto laughed weakly.
“Do it.”
Luca’s hand tightened.
“Luca.”
He didn’t look at me.
“Do it,” Augusto whispered. “Prove you are what we made.”
Luca’s jaw flexed.
Nico whimpered in my arms.
“Luca.”
This time he looked.
I didn’t tell him to forgive Augusto.
I didn’t ask for mercy.
Some things were beyond me.
I only held his son.
He looked at Nico.
Then lowered the gun.
Augusto’s smile disappeared.
Luca spoke quietly.
“You don’t get to choose what I become.”
Police sirens approached.
Real police this time.
Federal agents accompanied them.
Vale’s evidence, Gabriel’s records and Isabella’s testimony had finally become too large to bury.
Augusto was arrested.
Gabriel surrendered.
Adrian Vale was indicted.
Dozens of officers, judges and accountants followed.
The old network began collapsing before sunrise.
At dawn, we returned to Bellagio.
Broken glass covered the floor.
Table seven was overturned.
The photograph still lay near the hidden door.
I picked it up.
The front showed only Alessia.
I peeled back the torn edge.
Marco had found the missing half in Augusto’s office.
Celia stood beside her twin.
Two young women.
Same face.
Different futures.
My mother entered behind me.
“They were twenty-two.”
I looked at her.
“You were happy.”
“For one night.”
She touched the picture.
“Daniel proposed after this was taken.”
I smiled sadly.
“He wrote me a letter.”
“I know.”
“You never read it?”
“No. It was yours.”
For all my anger, I loved her.
That was inconvenient too.
I hugged her.
She cried.
Then Nico started babbling from across the room.
Luca held him.
The baby stretched toward me.
Mom laughed through tears.
“He really does love you.”
I walked over.
“So I’ve noticed.”
Luca handed him to me.
Our fingers touched.
Neither of us moved away immediately.
“The war is over?” I asked.
Luca looked toward Salvatore and Vittorio speaking quietly near the entrance.
“No.”
My heart sank.
Then he added, “But it can be.”
“How?”
“Neither family wants another generation buried.”
I looked at Nico.
“Then don’t give them one.”
Luca studied me.
“That simple?”
“No.”
I smiled.
“But somebody has to be first.”
He looked at me for a long time.
Then nodded.
“Then we are.”
I thought that was the end.
It wasn’t.
Because three days later, while federal agents cataloged Augusto’s private records, Marco found one final file.
A birth certificate.
My birth certificate.
But the father’s name wasn’t Daniel Hart.
It was blank.
And attached to it was a DNA report dated six months before my father’s death.
Marco put the papers on Luca’s desk.
His face was grim.
“Mara.”
My stomach turned.
“What now?”
He hesitated.
“The report says Daniel Hart wasn’t your biological father.”
The room went silent.
My mother dropped her coffee.
May you like
And I realized—
Augusto’s last secret had not died with his empire.
