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We burst into his study, only to find ourselves face-to-face with several more of my father's henchmen. With no time for words, we engage in hand-to-hand combat, fists and feet flying in every direction.
"Go! I'll handle them!" Leonardo yells, grappling with one of the guards as Frank, Jasmine and I sprint out of the room and I lead them towards my father's private quarters.
I can hear the faint sound of footsteps retreating down a nearby hallway – my father attempting to flee like the coward he is. I give chase, my heart pounding in my ears as the distance between us narrows.
"Stop!" I shout, but he doesn't listen. Instead, he turns a corner and disappears from sight. When I follow, I find myself in a dead-end corridor, my father trapped with nowhere left to run.
"Look what you've done, Dario," he sneers, his eyes cold and calculating. "Do you really think this will end well for you?"
"Enough!" Frank appears beside me, his face a mask of fury. "You’re going to answer for everything you’ve done."
My father's gaze flickers between us, something like fear finally creeping into his eyes. "You're making a mistake, Dario. I built this empire for our family. You could have had it all!"
"Your empire is built on suffering and betrayal," I spit out, my rage boiling over. "The only thing we want from you is justice."
"Betrayal?" My father scoffs, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're the one who betrayed me, Dario. You turned your back on your own family for that woman." He nods towards Jasmine, who stands defiantly behind us.
"She's been playing you like a puppet, and you've been too blinded by lust to see it. You were never like this, my son. You can only imagine my horror to learn that tonight, you come for my skin. Whatever lies she's told you, you should know, it is to weaken us," my father whispers. He tries to come closer, a pathetic excuse for a smile etched on his face.
"Dario, my boy, the sun of my life, we can forget all this madness. You can have your place as the rightful Don."
I can sense my father's tactics. His manipulation. With anger, I take a step back and remind myself of why I'm here. "Jasmine has nothing to do with this," I growl, clenching my fists so tightly that my knuckles turn white. "This is about you and your sickening crimes."
"Crimes? I did what I had to do to protect our family, to keep us in power. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, and I made sure we were the ones on top."
"By trafficking children?" I can barely contain my anger as I step closer to him, my eyes locked onto his. "You're a monster, and you don't deserve to call yourself my father."
He flinches, and I know it's not from guilt or fear of me knowing. He flinches because he's been caught.
"Don Marchetti," Frank interjects, his voice laced with disgust. "You've gone too far. No empire is worth sacrificing innocent lives."
"Your precious father wasn't so innocent when he was working for me," my father retorts, a twisted smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "He was more than willing to get his hands dirty when it suited him."
Frank steps forward, his voice firm and unwavering. "You accuse my father of unforgivable crimes, but those crimes are a lie. My father, Luca Bonanno, is a good man who lives by a code of honor. He would never be involved in the atrocities you committed."
I watch as my father's eyes narrow, studying Frank with a mixture of disdain and curiosity. I can tell he didn't expect such defiance from him. As for me, I feel a sense of pride for my newfound ally.
"Your father is weak," my father spits out, trying to maintain his composure. "He allows himself to be used by those around him."
"Maybe," Frank replies, unfazed. "But at least he has a moral compass. Something you clearly lack."
"At least I'm not a beggar like your old man," my father retorts. "And the things Luca Bonanno has done, things you've unwittingly helped in. If I even begin to tell you, boy –"
"Enough!" I shout, not wanting to hear another word from my father. "You're just trying to manipulate us, to turn us against each other. But it won't work. We know who you really are, and we won't let you hurt anyone else."
My father's eyes flash with fury, but beneath it, there's something else – fear. He knows that his time is running out, that soon he'll have to face the consequences of his actions.
"Look around you, Dario," he growls, motioning to the carnage and destruction that surrounds us. "This is what happens when you defy me. Are you prepared to live with the blood of our family on your hands?"
"I've already lived with it for far too long," I reply, my voice barely more than a whisper as the weight of my decision settles on my shoulders. "But I'll be damned if I let you continue to destroy everything we once held dear."
"Then may you rot in hell," my father snarls, his face twisted with hatred. "Because that's where you're sending all of us."
"Maybe," I admit, my gaze never leaving his. "But at least we'll be free from your tyranny."
The tension in the room is palpable, but before anyone else can speak, Leonardo pushes through the crowd, determination etched on his face. The room falls eerily silent, all eyes on him.
"Enough!" Leonardo shouts. "You want to talk about betrayal, Don Marchetti? Let's discuss your wife's murder."
