Page 15 of Promised to the Don of Naples
"It was taken in the summer of ninety-nine, on Capri, at my grandmother's house. I was eighteen and Raffaele was eight. Your brother was twelve."
"How was he on Capri with you?"
"Because your father and my father were partners for twenty years, Valentina," he said slowly. "The war between the families started in 2019. Twenty years later. Before that, the Rossis and the Morettis split half of southern Italy in peace. Your brother spent every summer on Capri with us from the time he was twelve."
"My father never told me that."
"I know."
"Why the hell did he never tell me?"
"Because, bella, if he'd told you, he'd have had to explain why we stopped being partners, and he can't explain that to you."
"Why not?"
Luca looked at me for a long moment.
"Because he was the one who broke it, Valentina. It wasn't us."
"That's a lie!"
"I can prove it."
"It's a lie."
"I can prove it." He leaned over, opened the leather folder, and took out a thick envelope, setting it on the desk between us. "It's all here. Contracts broken at your father's initiative between 2017 and 2019. His letters. Recorded meetings. There's even his email to my father saying, in these exact words: 'The deal with you ends today. Never set foot in Palermo again.'"
"Why?"
"Money. It was always money, Valentina. Your father found a new route in 2017 that he wanted for himself. The Morettis were in the way."
I swallowed hard. I thought about my father in the cigar room, three rooms away.
"And Matteo?" I asked, and my voice came out hoarser than I wanted.
Luca stopped.
"Bella…"
"Who killed Matteo?"
He looked at me, and those black eyes had gone very still.
"It wasn't me."
"Who?"
"Valentina..."
"Who, Luca?!"
He took a deep breath.
"The bullet that killed your brother came from a Moretti family gun. It did. I won't lie to you. But the trigger wasn't pulled on my order, or my father's, or Raffaele's." He stopped, breathing deep. "It was one of our soldiers, who took the order from somewhere else, who took payment from somewhere else. He vanished three days later and turned up dead on a road outside Salerno the following week."
"Who gave the order?"
"I don't know yet."
