Regan stared at the neatly wrapped box, a wave of nervous anticipation washing over him. He'd found it tucked away in his late mother's belongings, a relic of a past shrouded in secrets. With trembling hands, he brushed away the layer of dust, each grain a tiny whisper of lost time. Hesitation warred with a desperate need for answers. Finally, driven by an insatiable curiosity, he tore into the wrapping paper, his fingers fumbling with the edges. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded velvet, lay two photographs, a ring, and a letter. The letter, yellowed with age, bore his mother's familiar handwriting, a poignant reminder of her absence. A lump formed in his throat. He picked up the first photograph. It was a picture of a young couple, radiant with happiness. His eyes widened in disbelief. The man in the photo… it was him. Or rather, it was a man who looked exactly like him, a younger, vibrant version of himself. He looked closer, tracing the man's features. It was his father. The fath

Regan stared at him, his mind struggling to process the information. "What's going on?" he stammered. "Who was that man? And how did you know…?"Mr. Roger stood up, his expression grave. "There's a lot you don't know, Regan. But all in due time. For now, just know that you're safe. And that I'm here to help you."He gestured towards a comfortable armchair. "Sit down, Regan. We have a lot to discuss."Regan hesitated, his mind still reeling from the events of the past few hours. He looked from Mr. Roger to the woman with the cropped hair, his eyes searching for answers. He knew that his life had just changed forever. And that he was now caught up in something far bigger, and far more dangerous, than he could have ever imagined.He slowly sank into the armchair, clutching the wooden box containing his mother's letter. He took a deep breath, steeling himself."Okay," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "Tell me everything."Mr. Roger nodded, his expression unreadable. "Very well, Rega

Mr. Roger watched Regan's face, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering across his features: disbelief, anger, a flicker of hope quickly extinguished by a wave of apprehension. He saw the boy he recognized as his grandson struggling to assimilate the enormity of his situation."Regan," Mr. Roger said gently, his voice cutting through the silence. "You seem overwhelmed. It is understandable. This is a lot to take in, all at once. But I assure you, you are not alone. And I will teach you everything you need to know, to navigate this new reality."Regan ran a hand through his hair, the fatigue evident in his every movement. "It’s just… it’s a lot," he mumbled, his voice strained. "Alfred trying to kill me, discovering you’re my grandfather, learning my father is alive… It’s like my whole life has been a lie."Mr. Roger nodded, his gaze softening. "I understand. And I promise you, we will unravel those lies, one by one. But for now, we need to focus on finding your father. The sooner we hav

Regan left the makeshift conference room, the faces of Marco and Sofia swimming in his memory. Their words, their warmth, their glimpses into a life he'd never known, had stirred something deep within him. He needed to process it all, to sift through the emotions that had been churning inside him since discovering the existence of his father.He retreated to his assigned room, a sterile space within the heavily guarded villa, a far cry from his cramped apartment. The security and luxury were comforting, but they also served as a constant reminder of his new reality – a reality where his every move was dictated by fear and suspicion.He sat on the edge of the bed, its pristine white sheets a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that plagued his mind. Amelia. The name echoed in his head, a discordant note in the symphony of emotions he was experiencing. Why would she, Alfred’s ex-girlfriend, be involved? Their relationship had ended badly, everyone knew that. So what had Alfred done, wha

Regan nodded, seeing the wisdom in his grandfather’s words. “Anny, Jeff, text me your address. My grandfather is sending someone to pick you up. It's safer this way.”“Okay,” Anny replied, her voice betraying a hint of concern. "Understood." The call ended.Mr. Roger dispatched Sarah immediately. Within the hour, Sarah arrived at the safe house with Jeff and Anny, their expressions solemn but determined.Anny wasted no time, her eyes bright with intensity. "I didn't tell you earlier because I wanted to confirm everything first," she started, "but this goes beyond Alfred’s actions at your restaurant. Jeff and I have been investigating his finances, his movements— his connections. He’s not just stealing from your mother’s estate, he's deeply involved with the Salieri crime syndicate. Jeff discovered one of their safe houses with hidden surveillance equipment and financial records linking them to several of Alfred's major transactions."She produced a small, battered laptop and slid it a