Chapter 11 - THE FATHER WHO NEVER DIED
Alberto Spedaro had supposedly died twelve years earlier.
A car bombing.
A closed-casket funeral.
A family plunged into chaos.
Cedric had inherited the organization at twenty-four.
Rafael had been twenty.
But now Mercer claimed Alberto was alive.
Cedric stared.
"You're lying."
Mercer shook his head.
"No."
I looked at Cedric.
His hands were trembling.
"Where is he?"
Mercer hesitated.
Then gave an address.
A private medical facility outside Philadelphia.
Cedric didn't move.
For a long moment, he simply stared at the man who had treated him for years.
Then he said:
"Get out."
Mercer left under supervision.
Cedric turned toward me.
"My father."
I swallowed.
"Do you believe him?"
He looked down.
"I don't know."
I moved closer.
"Then let's find out."
He looked up.
May you like
I reached for his hand.
This time, he took it.
