Chapter 3

The next morning at ten o'clock, word of an emergency family meeting spread through every corner of the mansion.

I sat in the corner of the back row in the conference room, dark circles under my eyes from a sleepless night. After returning to the mansion last night, I had waited in my room all night, hoping Vincent would come to explain, but no knock came until dawn.

Other family members filed into the conference room one by one, each face etched with confusion and unease. Word of last night's street scene had already spread—someone had seen Vincent, but no one dared to be certain.

When Lucas entered, he completely avoided my gaze, his face still the same deathly pale as last night. Even more strange was how Lucas's father Antonio and his wife's several brothers kept exchanging glances, their tension palpable and unsettling.

BANG!

The heavy walnut door was thrust open, and Vincent strode into the conference room.

Instantly, the air in the entire room solidified. The aura radiating from him swept over everyone like a tide, making each person afraid to breathe loudly.

He really was back.

"Gentlemen," Vincent's voice rumbled low like thunder, "welcome to my... resurrection party."

I clenched my hands tightly, my heart pounding wildly. Not from fear, but from longing. For three whole years, I thought I'd never see him again. And now here he was, standing alive beside the head chair.

"Three years ago, the Torrino family thought they buried me." Vincent slowly sat down, his right hand gently stroking that shocking new scar on his jaw. "They were wrong."

The sound of chairs scraping against the floor came from around the table—someone was trembling.

I secretly observed everyone's reactions. Most members showed shock and awe, but Antonio's table... he and two others had expressions that weren't quite right. Not shock, but panic.

"What disappoints me even more," Vincent's gaze swept across every face like a blade, "is that the explosion wasn't just the Torrino family's masterpiece. Someone provided them with intelligence from the inside."

A mole?

The room instantly erupted: "Impossible!" "Who would dare betray the Don?" "It must be the Torrino family's frame-up!"

But I noticed that Antonio's table remained silent. Lucas's hands were shaking violently under the table, while Elena was biting her lip hard, her face growing paler by the second.

Could it be...?

"Quiet." Vincent said only one word, and the entire room fell silent instantly. "That mole is sitting at this very table right now. And there's more than one."

My blood ran cold, but not because I feared being suspected. It was because I suddenly realized that Lucas's fear might not just stem from reverence for Vincent...

Antonio finally couldn't take it anymore. She elbowed Lucas hard, her eyes frantically signaling him to speak.

No, Antonio, what are you doing?

"Uncle Vincent," Lucas stood up trembling, his voice shaking, "I... I think we should..."

"Sit down." Vincent didn't even glance at him.

But Lucas had already been driven mad by his father's stare: "No, I have to speak!" His voice rose an octave in its trembling. "We should... we should hit them first, Uncle Vincent! The Torrino family thinks you're dead—now is the perfect time for revenge! We can gather all our men and strike tonight..."

I could hardly believe my eyes. This wasn't courage—this was panicked rambling born of extreme terror. Lucas was trying to deflect attention, while Antonio was desperately encouraging his son.

My God, could it really be them?

"Sit down." Vincent's voice dropped to freezing point, his killing intent sharp as a blade.

But Lucas was completely out of control: "We should act tonight! Let all of New York know that the Benedetti family..."

SMACK!

Vincent's palm slammed down on the table, the thunderous sound exploding like lightning. Everyone jumped in shock, several older members instinctively reaching for their waists.

"Impulse and stupidity kill everyone, boy." Vincent slowly stood up, his towering figure looming over Lucas like a mountain peak. "You want to lead a suicide mission? Is that how you've been 'protecting' the family while I was gone?"

I watched Lucas's legs begin to give out, that kind of fear wasn't the reverence shown to an elder, but the despair of facing death itself.

He knew something. Lucas knew something about the explosion.

"I... I was just..." Lucas stammered, sweat rolling down his forehead.

"You were just proving," Vincent said each word like a precise dagger thrust, "why I would never entrust the family's future to a traitor."

Traitor.

The word exploded in the room like a bomb. Lucas's face instantly turned white as paper, Antonio let out a sharp intake of breath.

Vincent knew. He had known all along.

"Now, let's discuss what's really important." Vincent sat back down, his gaze lingering on Antonio's family for several seconds. "To the moles—you now have 24 hours to think it over. After 24 hours, I'll come have a personal chat with each of you."

He paused, his smile cold as death:

"By then, I hope you'll have prepared your last words."

Antonio finally broke down, standing up trembling: "Vincent, you can't..."

"I can't what?" Vincent's voice was like an ice blade. "Clean house? Or seek justice for my 'death'?"

Silence. Deathly silence.

"Meeting adjourned." Vincent stood up, then his gaze fell on me. "Gloria, you stay."

The people in the room fled like pardoned prisoners. Elena helped the nearly fainting Lucas stumble out. As they passed me, Lucas finally dared to look at me—in that gaze was fear, resentment, and something close to despair.

I felt a chill run through me. I had always thought Lucas truly loved me, but now it seemed... he had hidden far too much. What exactly did he know?

Soon, the vast conference room held only Vincent and me.

I could hear my own heartbeat, and the sound of his footsteps pacing behind me. Each step was slow, deliberate, like a leopard circling its prey.

"Three years." His voice suddenly sounded behind me. "You've been... well?"

I slowly turned around, only to find he had moved extremely close. That distance made it almost impossible for me to breathe.

"Vincent, I didn't know Lucas was involved in..."

"I'm not asking about family business." His voice was low, carrying some emotion I couldn't understand. "I'm asking about you."

His gaze lingered on my face, that scrutiny making me uneasy. As if he was searching for something, or confirming something.

"What do you mean?"

"Three years, Gloria. You grew up."

There was some meaning in those words that I couldn't grasp, but I saw something flash in his eyes, as if he had become aware of some dangerous boundary. His breathing became rapid, then as if struck by lightning, Vincent suddenly stepped back, restoring that cruel sense of distance.

"Tomorrow night at eight," he turned and walked toward the door, "meet me at the old place. Some things need to be clarified."

"What things?"

He had already reached the door, turning back to give me a heartbreaking look:

"Who you belong to forever."

BANG.

After the door closed, I slid down the wall to sit on the floor, my heart racing wildly.

What did he mean by "belong"?

Why was his gaze so complex when he looked at me?

Why did his presence make me feel like I was burning?

I thought this was punishment, but now... I wasn't sure anymore.