Chapter 3 FATHER'S SECRET

"I need time to think." The words escaped Sophia's lips as chaos erupted around her.

The men were already on their feet, barking orders into phones. Weapons materialized from hidden holsters. In seconds, the civilized dinner had transformed into a war room.

Antonio remained seated, his eyes never leaving Sophia's face. Despite the commotion, a strange calm emanated from him-the eye of a hurricane he'd weathered countless times before.

"Time is the one luxury we don't have tonight," he said, rising slowly. His movement made the others pause. "Dominic, prepare a response team. Giuseppe, secure our other properties. No one moves against the Salvatores until I give the order."

Clear authority resonated in every syllable. This was the Antonio Ricci that everyone feared, not the kind father who had taught Sophia to play chess and told her goodnight stories.

"And the hostages?" Leonardo asked.

"Tell the Salvatores that I'll meet with Vincenzo tomorrow." "Neutral ground." Antonio adjusted his cuffs with practiced precision. "Now leave us. "My daughter and I need to speak."

The men walked out, some casting suspicious eyes at Sophia. She noticed Paolo's muttered remark-"this is why we need a man in charge"-before the heavy door shut behind them.

"Follow me," Antonio said, already starting toward the passage leading to his own section of the mansion.

Sophia objected, "I didn't agree to anything," but she found herself following him regardless, drawn by an invisible thread of blood and obligation.

Throughout her upbringing, Antonio's studies had been taboo terrain. Even at 32, she felt like an intruder as he ushered her inside and locked the door behind them.

The space exuded old money and silent control. Leather-bound books studded the mahogany shelves. A large desk dominated one wall, while a sitting area with deep armchairs occupied the other. Oil paintings (originals, not reproductions) showed Italian landscapes and Renaissance scenes.

But what her father did next astonished her.

Antonio put his palm against what looked to be a solid wood panel. A quiet click resonated through the silence, and the bookcase on their right moved sideways, revealing a hidden room.

"Come," he said, entering the secret space.

Sophia halted on the threshold.What is this?"

"The truth."

The hidden area was smaller than the study, but just as stunning. Instead of books, she saw flat-screen displays watching market values, freight movements, and security feeds from Ricci properties throughout Chicago.

At the center was a glass table with embedded touchscreens. When Antonio laid his palm on its surface, digital files illuminated the glass like ghostly blueprints.

"Everything I've built," he explained softly. "All businesses. Every investment. "Every alliance and enemy."

Sophia's scholarly mentality couldn't help but admire the complex setup. "This is... extensive."

"More than you know." Antonio's fingers danced across the surface, opening folders of information. "Here, look at this."

Financial statements appeared-legitimate businesses with the Ricci name. The Ricci Shipping Company. Ricci Construction. Ricci Investment Group. All showing substantial profits and growth trajectories that would make any CEO envious.

"Our legal enterprises now account for sixty percent of our total revenue," Antonio explained. "Ten years ago, it was barely twenty percent."

Sophia's economics training kicked in as she studied the numbers. "You've been systematically shifting assets."

"Legitimizing them," he corrected. "Cleaning decades of history. Creating businesses that can stand on their own, without protection money or smuggling to prop them up."

She drew closer, her professional curiosity overcoming her trepidation. "This transition timeline... you've been planning this for years."

Antonio nodded proudly. "Since you began business school. I've been using your ideas, cara mia."

"My theories?"

He opened another file containing digital copies of her academic papers, doctoral dissertation, and published articles. Everything is highlighted and marked in her father's distinctive handwriting.

"How do you approach transitional economies and legitimate wealth development through strategic reinvestment.?I've followed every principle. His voice softened. "Your brilliance has already been guiding this family, whether you knew it or not."

Sophia was overcome with a range of emotions, including pride and betrayal. "You've been using my research without telling me."

I've been proving it works." Antonio coughed, the sound resonating deep within his chest. He braced himself against the table. "However, the technique is sensitive. "We are vulnerable during the transition."

"That's why the Salvatores are moving now."

"Partly." Antonio unlocked a drawer and pulled out a leather-bound ledger that seemed out of place among all the electronics. "There are also these."

He put the book in her hands. The worn leather felt heavy and substantial.

"What is this?"

"These are old records. Before computers. "Before encryption." His expression clouded. "The history some would kill to bury forever."

Sophia opened theledger with shaky fingers. Names, dates, and locations adorned the yellowed pages. Some entries had been crossed out, while others were marked in red. Notes in various handwritings filled the margins.

"These are..."

Debts. Favors. Arrangements." Antonio took the book back carefully. "Everything else was built on top of this foundation. Some go back to your grandfather's time."

Understanding dawned cold and clear. "You're saying our legitimate businesses were built with blood money."

"All ancient riches begin in the dark, Sophia. Do you suppose the Rockefellers and Kennedys' fortunes started with clean hands?" Antonio maintained a matter-of-fact tone. "The difference is whether you remain in darkness or build something that brings light."

He opened another drawer and took out folder after folder of actual documents, including property deeds, certificates of ownership, and handwritten agreements.

These can't be digitized. Too hazardous. These are the skeletons in our closet, the leverage that others have attempted to use against us. He scattered them across the table. "And now they're your responsibility."

"I never agreed to this."

"You were born to it." Antonio's expression softened. "I tried to keep you away so you could develop your own life. But times have changed. "My cancer has accelerated everything."

Sophia's intellectual mind sped forward. "If you die without a clear successor, these documents may become public. The changeover would fail. "Everything would collapse."

"Or worse-fall into the wrong hands." Antonio nodded grudgingly. "The Salvatores wouldn't hesitate to use this information to destroy what we've built and seize our legitimate businesses. "

You should have destroyed them," she whispered. "

Impossible. They're insurance policies, protection mechanisms. Each document is connected to someone powerful who owes us-judges, politicians, business leaders. Without them, we're vulnerable."

Sophia sank into a chair, the weight of the situation pressing down on her shoulders. "This is why you need me. Not just for my business acumen, but because I understand both worlds."

"Yes." Antonio accessed another file-property holdings of the Ricci family across Chicago. "We're six years into a ten-year transition plan. Most of our illegal operations have been scaled back or transferred to aligned families."

"Which explains why the Salvatores think you're weak," Sophia mused, the strategic pieces clicking into place. "They don't realize it's intentional."

"Exactly." Antonio spoke with pride. "Even now, you see what others miss."

A terrible notion struck her. "Who else knows about this transition plan?"

"Just Dominic. The others are aware of certain aspects but not the entire approach." Antonio shut the ledger gently. "Too dangerous to share widely."

"And if someone else discovered it?"

Antonio's silence was an answer to her query.

"You have a traitor," Sophia knew. "Someone who knows enough to be dangerous."

"I've suspected for months." He nodded slowly. Strange coincidences. Information leaks. "The Salvatores are always one step ahead."

"That is why tonight is happening now. The hostage situation is not arbitrary." Her mind worked furiously. "They're forcing your hand before the transition is complete."

Antonio smiled sadly. "You see why you must take over. Not Paolo, Marco, or the others. "They are still thinking in the old ways."

Sophia stood and paced the small room, processing everything. Her entire life-her professional choices, her research interests-had been unintentionally aligned with her father's covert ambitions.

"Did mother know?" she questioned abruptly. "About any of this?"

Antonio's face flashed with pain. "Your mother knew everything. It was her intention to create something you'd be proud to inherit one day.

Another revelation rocked her foundations. Her mother, lovely and polished, had always appeared detached from the family company. To learn she was instrumental in its change...

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sophia demanded. "Before your diagnosis?"

"Would you have listened?" Antonio challenged. "Would you have run further away?" I needed you established, respected in your field, and free of suspicion."

Her phone vibrated with a university notification-a reminder about tomorrow's faculty meeting. She laughed angrily at the ludicrous normality of it. "I have a talk at nine tomorrow morning. Students want me to teach them about ethical business operations. She ran her hand through her hair. "How am I supposed to step into this role?"

"Not all at once." Antonio closed the secret panels, restoring the room to its natural state. "You continue to teach. It's the ideal cover while you learn our procedures."

"A double life."

"For now." He approached her and took her hands in his. "Sophia, I will not force you. But without you, everything your mother and I have labored for would crumble into murder."

The weight of the dynasty crushed her shoulders. Legacy. Blood. Power. Things she had rejected but could never fully escape.

"I need time to think," she said, pushing her hands away.

"Sleep on it here tonight," Antonio recommended. "Your old room is always ready."

She nodded, numbly. "And the Salvatore situation?"

I'll handle it tonight. One last time." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Consider it your grace period."

As if on cue, Antonio's phone rang. He answered with a terse "Yes?"

Sophia watched his expression harden as he listened.

"When?" he demanded. Then, "Secure the scene. No police."

He ended the call, his face ashen.

"What happened?" Sophia asked, dread pooling in her stomach.

"The hostages at the warehouse." Antonio's voice was dangerously quiet. "They're all dead. The Salvatores left a message."

"What message?"

Antonio met her eyes, his own dark with fury and something else-fear. "

'We know about the ledgers.'"