Page 2 of His Enemy's Daughter
The silence that follows carries weight, and I know we’ve hit on something significant. Simeone’s jaw works like he’s chewing words he doesn’t want to spit out.
“Flavio,” he finally says, and the name lands between us like a grenade with the pin pulled.
“Your nephew? The spoiled brat you raised as your son?”
“Turns out he’s not my nephew.” The correction is sharp, bitter. “DNA test proved he was never Ulrico’s. Never family. Just some woman’s bastard who played me for over two decades.”
The revelation hits harder than it should. I knew Flavio was trouble—had told Simeone as much before everything went toshit—but this level of deception requires respect, even if it’s grudging.
“Where is he now?”
“Exiled. Seven years, no contact, no claims to the name or organization.” Simeone’s voice hardens with finality. “He threatened Loriana. Kidnapped her. That was his final mistake.”
“You let him live?” I can’t keep the surprise from my voice. “The man I remember would have put a bullet in his head for less.”
“Loriana asked me not to kill him. Said it would change me.” His smile is sharp, self-aware. “Turns out she was right. Mercy was a better punishment than death—watching him walk away with nothing was more satisfying than ending him.”
“Domestication indeed.” I study his profile, noting the peace beneath the power. “She’s made you soft.”
“She’s made me better.” The correction carries conviction. “There’s a difference.”
We drive in comfortable silence for a while, and I process the magnitude of changes that occurred while I was locked away. Simeone married, had a child, discovered his nephew was a fraud, and built an empire that spans continents. Meanwhile, I’ve been perfecting the art of surviving in a six-by-eight cell and planning revenge against the people who put me there.
“What about the Moretti job?” I ask finally, addressing the elephant that’s been sitting between us since he pulled up. “The one that sent me inside. Ever figure out who sold us out?”
His expression darkens, and suddenly I’m looking at the man I remember—cold, calculating, dangerous. “I’ve spent fifteen years investigating that question. Had my best people tracking every lead, following every thread.”
“And?”
“Nothing concrete. Whispers, rumors, shadows of possibilities.” His frustration bleeds through every word. “Whoever set us up knew how to cover their tracks.”
“Or they’re too powerful to touch.”
“That too.” He glances at me, and I see guilt written across his features. “Mauricio, I need you to know—”
“Don’t.” I cut him off before he could finish the apology I don’t need. “We both knew the risks. I made my choice to take the fall. You had the organization to run, people depending on you.”
“You sacrificed fifteen years of your life—”
“And you built an empire worth protecting.” I lean forward, making sure he sees the honesty in my eyes. “Stop second-guessing decisions we made when we were young and stupid.The job was always a gamble. We lost that round, but the game isn’t over.”
“Is that why you kept your mouth shut? Because you thought there’d be another round?”
“I kept my mouth shut because that’s what brothers do.” The word tastes strange on my tongue after years of not having anyone worth calling family. “And because I knew that fifteen years inside would either break me or forge me into something stronger.”
“Which one happened?”
“Both.” I smile, and I know it’s not a kind expression. “I broke in ways that does not matter and reformed in ways that does. The question is whether you’re ready for what I’ve become.”
He’s quiet for a moment, processing my words with the same careful consideration he applies to everything. “What do you need from me?”
“Resources. Information. A platform to work from while I figure out my next move.” I tick off items on my fingers. “And introductions to whoever might help me find the people who set us up.”
“Done.” No hesitation, no negotiation. “Whatever you need, it’s yours. You earned it fifteen times over.”
“Careful,fratello. That kind of blank check could be dangerous.”
“You’ve always been dangerous.” His smile is genuine, warm. “That’s why I’ve been counting down the days until you got out just like you have.”
