Chapter Nine - A Father’s Warning
1348 Words
Alessia had just stepped inside her apartment when her phone began to ring.
She closed the door behind her slowly, dropping her bag onto the table before reaching into her coat pocket.
Her eyes flicked to the screen.
Father.
Her stomach tightened.
Her father rarely called during working hours unless something was wrong. Very wrong.
She inhaled once before answering.
“Dad?”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
Then his voice came through—low, firm, and tense.
“Where are you right now?”
“At home,” she replied. “Why?”
Another pause followed, longer this time. She could hear papers rustling faintly in the background, the quiet noise of someone pacing.
“I just received a report from the department,” her father finally said.
Her pulse quickened.
“What kind of report?”
His tone sharpened.
“The kind that tells me my daughter was attacked in a parking lot last night.”
Alessia closed her eyes briefly.
Of course he knew.
Victor Romano had spent more than twenty-five years inside the justice system. Even after stepping back from active prosecution, his influence still reached deep into the department.
Information always found its way to him.
“It wasn’t as serious as it sounds,” she said calmly.
“That’s not what the report says.”
His voice carried the controlled anger of a man who was trying very hard not to lose his temper.
“The report says two men attempted to force you into a vehicle.”
She leaned against the kitchen counter.
“That situation was handled.”
“Handled?” he repeated.
“Yes.”
Another silence.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed slightly.
Lower.
More dangerous.
“It also says Luca DeMarco was present.”
Her grip tightened around the phone.
“I was going to tell you—”
“When?”
His question cut through her sentence.
“Before or after the entire department starts asking why the most powerful mafia figure in the city is suddenly appearing at crime scenes involving my daughter?”
She rubbed her forehead slowly.
“He arrived during the attack,” she explained.
Her father let out a short, humorless laugh.
“That man doesn’t ‘arrive’ anywhere by accident.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “I do.”
Alessia walked toward the living room window, staring down at the busy street below.
“He warned me,” she said quietly.
The line went silent.
Her father spoke again, more slowly now.
“Warned you about what?”
“The attack.”
Another pause.
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t see the problem with that?”
“I do.”
“Do you?”
His voice softened slightly.
“Alessia, listen to me carefully. If Luca DeMarco knew an attack was coming, that means one of two things.”
She already knew where this was going.
“He either allowed it to happen,” her father continued, “or he is so deeply involved that he knew about it in advance.”
Her chest tightened.
“Or,” she replied quietly, “someone inside his organization is working against him.”
Her father sighed heavily.
“You’re defending him.”
“I’m analyzing the situation.”
“No,” he said. “You’re standing too close to the fire.”
Alessia leaned her head back against the wall.
“I’m doing my job.”
“You’re risking your life.”
“That comes with the job.”
A long silence stretched between them.
Then his voice changed again.
Less like a prosecutor.
More like a father.
“You’re my daughter before you’re an investigator.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
“I know,” she said softly.
“I warned you about this case months ago,” he continued. “I told you the DeMarco organization doesn’t play by rules.”
“And that’s exactly why it needs to be taken down.”
“You think one investigation will bring down a man like Luca DeMarco?”
“I think evidence will.”
Her father exhaled slowly.
“You’re stubborn.”
“I learned from you.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, he asked the question she had been hoping he wouldn’t.
“Did you leave with him?”
Her heart skipped.
“With who?”
“With Luca.”
“Yes.”
His reaction was immediate.
“Why?”
“Because he offered to get me somewhere safe.”
“And you trusted him?”
“No.”
“Then why did you go with him?”
She hesitated.
Because in that moment, surrounded by flashing security lights and restrained attackers, Luca had been the only person who seemed completely in control.
“Because he saved my life,” she admitted quietly.
Her father didn’t respond right away.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm—but firm.
“That doesn’t make him safe.”
“I never said it did.”
“Then understand this clearly.”
His tone hardened again.
“Men like Luca DeMarco don’t protect people out of kindness.”
“I’m aware.”
“They protect what benefits them.”
Alessia looked down at the phone in her hand.
“He asked for cooperation.”
Her father went completely silent.
When he spoke again, his voice had turned dangerously calm.
“You’re working with him?”
“Temporarily.”
“No.”
The word came out instantly.
“That is not happening.”
“It already is.”
Her father muttered something under his breath.
“Alessia, do you have any idea how dangerous that decision is?”
“Yes.”
“You’re allowing a criminal to influence an active investigation.”
“I’m using him for information.”
“That’s not how men like him operate.”
“And how exactly do they operate?” she asked quietly.
“They gain trust.”
His answer came immediately.
“They make you believe you’re the one in control. And by the time you realize you’re not, it’s too late.”
She thought about Luca’s calm expression earlier that morning.
The way he had been honest about using the situation strategically.
“I’m not being manipulated,” she said.
“You don’t know that.”
She sighed softly.
“Dad…”
“Just promise me something.”
She hesitated.
“What?”
“If the line between your investigation and your personal judgment starts to blur,” he said carefully, “you walk away.”
“That won’t happen.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
He paused.
Then added quietly,
“Luca DeMarco doesn’t lose control easily. If he’s suddenly involved in your safety, that means you’ve become part of his calculations.”
Alessia stared out the window again.
“I can handle him,” she said finally.
Her father’s voice softened.
“That’s what worries me the most.”
“Why?”
“Because the people who believe they can handle men like him are usually the ones who get pulled in the deepest.”
Silence settled between them again.
After a moment, he spoke one last time.
“Just be careful.”
“I will.”
“And Alessia?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget who you are.”
She swallowed.
“I won’t.”
The line disconnected.
Alessia lowered the phone slowly.
Her father believed Luca was manipulating her.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe everyone in this city was right to fear him.
But the truth was far more complicated.
Because when Luca had looked at her the night before—standing in the cold parking lot, calm in the middle of chaos—
He hadn’t looked like a man playing games.
He had looked like a man declaring war on anyone who dared touch her.
And that realization was far more dangerous than the attack itself.
- Writer
