~The lost one~

Chapter 9

~~~~~ Vittorio Gabrini's PoV ~~~~~
                   (The real father)

I still remember the day Carolina left, as if it happened only yesterday. The memories burn like a fresh wound, refusing to heal even after all these years. I was once a man who commanded respect, who controlled an empire with iron fists and a clear mind. But that day, everything crumbled.

It was a bright morning. The sun was rising over the hills, casting a golden light over the vineyards and olive groves that had been in the Gabrini family for generations. I had just finished a meeting with some of my most trusted men, discussing business as usual, when I noticed something was off. The house was too quiet. Carolina was always there, smiling with that charm she used to win me over. But that day, she was nowhere to be found.

I walked through the halls, calling out her name, but the silence was all that answered me. It was when I reached Simi's room that my heart began to race. The door was open, and her bed was empty. No toys scattered on the floor, no laughter echoing in the room. Just emptiness.

"Carolina!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the house. But she was gone. I found a note on the kitchen table, hastily scribbled in her handwriting:

*Vittorio, by the time you read this, Simi and I will be far away. Don't try to find us. This life isn't for us. I need more, and you... you can never give it to me. I'm taking the money and starting over. Goodbye.*

The betrayal hit me like a bullet to the chest. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She took Simi. My precious little girl. The one who brought light into my life, who had a laugh that could chase away the darkest clouds. And Carolina, the woman I had loved, the woman I trusted, she took her from me. All for what? Money? A new life? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

My sons were just as devastated. Luca, my eldest, was the first to find me, still standing in the kitchen, holding that damned note. He saw the look in my eyes and knew something was terribly wrong. I handed him the letter without a word, and I watched as his expression turned from confusion to pure rage.

"They're gone?" he asked, his voice low, dangerously calm. Luca was always the one with the most memories of Simi. He was the one who held her when she was just a baby, who taught her how to ride a bike, who protected her from the world. He had always been the strong one, but that day, I saw the cracks in his armor.

Antonio, my second-born, came in next. He was different from the rest of us—blond hair, green eyes, and a heart too pure for the life we led. He had always been more interested in saving lives than taking them, which is why he became a cardiac surgeon instead of following in my footsteps. But his love for Simi was no less than Luca's. When he read the note, I saw the pain flash in his eyes, though he tried to hide it behind a calm facade.

Giovanni, with his wild curls and sharp aim, was already loading his rifle, ready to track them down, to bring his sister home. He was our sniper, our weapons expert, and he was fiercely protective of his family. "We'll find them, Papa. I'll make sure of it."

Rancho, our spy, the one who could blend into any crowd and gather any information, was already planning his search, his mind working faster than his emotions. He wasn't one for words, but I saw the determination in his eyes. He would leave no stone unturned.

Then there were the twins, Enzo and Fabio. They were only 10 years old at the time, but they understood enough to know something terrible had happened. Enzo, with his passion for hacking and his talent for music, retreated into his world of codes and notes, vowing to become the best, so he could protect our family from ever being torn apart again. Fabio, though sweet on the outside, had a fire in him that few saw. He began training harder, diving deeper into the world of the mafia, driven by the need to prove himself, to never let anyone take from him again.

Each of my sons had their own special bond with Simi. Luca always remembered how she used to follow him around, calling him her "big brother protector." Antonio cherished the quiet moments he had with her, reading her stories before bed, teaching her about the heart—both in the physical and emotional sense. Giovanni loved taking her to the shooting range, teaching her how to aim, even though she was too small to hold the gun properly. Rancho used to take her on his secret missions, where they would spy on the rest of the family for fun. Enzo would play the piano for her, composing little tunes just to make her smile, while Fabio would sneak her sweets when no one was looking, always making sure she was happy.

We searched for years. I used every resource, every contact, every bit of power I had to find them. But it was as if they had vanished into thin air. Eventually, as the years went by, my sons and I had no choice but to focus on our work, to make ourselves stronger, better, so that nothing like this could ever happen again. But the pain never went away. The distrust grew, and we all became more guarded, more ruthless. Because we knew what it felt like to lose the one thing that mattered most.

Now, every time I look at my sons, I see the shadow of the sister they lost, the little girl we all failed to protect. And every night, I pray that wherever Simi is, she's safe. That one day, she'll find her way back to us.