For a moment, the world outside the window seemed to stop.
Alisha didn't breathe.
Didn't blink neither did she move.
Across the street, the man stood beside the black car, his hands tucked calmly into the pockets of his dark coat. The morning sunlight fell across his face, illuminating features Alisha had memorized years ago.
The same gentle eyes, the same straight posture.
The same man she had buried in her memories.
Her father.
"No…" she whispered.
Marco stood beside her, completely still.
His mind was racing.
Five years ago, he had watched the man fall. He had seen the blood. The chaos of that night had been burned into his memory.
He had been certain.
Certain the man was dead.
But now that same man was standing across the street like a ghost that refused to stay buried.
Alisha's hand pressed against the window.
"Dad…"
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
Marco turned toward her quickly.
"Don't."
She looked at him, confusion filling her eyes.
"Don't what?"
"Don't assume anything yet."
But she already knew.
Somewhere deep inside her chest, she knew.
The man outside lifted his head slowly.
His gaze locked directly onto the window where they stood.
Where she stood.
And then…
He smiled.
Alisha's knees almost gave out.
"That's him," she whispered.
Marco's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
Enzo stepped up behind them.
"What's going on?"
Marco pointed toward the street.
Enzo leaned closer to the glass.
Then his eyes widened.
"Holy—"
"Yeah," Marco muttered.
"That's exactly what I thought."
Alisha turned toward the door.
"I'm going to him."
Marco grabbed her wrist instantly.
"No."
"Marco, that's my father."
"We don't know that."
"Yes we do!" she snapped.
Marco didn't release her.
"You're thinking emotionally."
"And you're thinking like a criminal!"
Her voice echoed through the apartment.
Marco's eyes darkened slightly.
"Someone bombed your apartment this morning."
"That doesn't change the fact that he's my father."
"It might."
Alisha shook her head.
"You don't understand."
"You're right," Marco said quietly.
"I don't."
For a moment, their eyes locked.
The tension between them was thick enough to choke on.
Then Marco released her wrist.
"Fine."
She blinked in surprise.
"You're letting me go?"
"No."
His voice was calm again.
"I'm coming with you."
Enzo sighed heavily.
"Of course we are."
Alisha didn't wait any longer.
She rushed out the door.
Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest she could barely hear anything else.
Marco and Enzo followed closely behind.
By the time they reached the street, the man was still standing there.
Waiting.
As if he had known they would come.
Alisha slowed her steps.
The closer she got, the more real it felt.
Five years of grief.
Five years of unanswered questions.
And now he was here.
Alive.
"Dad?" she said softly.
The man studied her face.
His eyes softened.
"Alisha."
Her chest tightened instantly.
The way he said her name.
The familiarity.
The warmth.
It was him.
Tears filled her eyes before she could stop them.
"You're alive."
"Yes."
Her hands trembled.
"How?"
He looked past her briefly at Marco.
"Things got complicated."
Marco stepped forward slightly.
"That's an understatement."
The man's expression shifted.
A cold tension filled the space between the two men.
"So," the man said quietly.
"Marco D'Angelo."
Marco's voice was flat.
"You look better for a dead man."
Alisha turned between them.
"Stop it."
Neither man spoke.
The silence was thick with unfinished history.
Finally Alisha faced her father again.
"You need to explain."
He nodded slowly.
"I will."
"Start with why the world thinks you're dead."
He glanced toward the black car behind him.
Then back at her.
"Because five years ago… someone wanted me dead."
Marco crossed his arms.
"Let me guess."
"Luca Ricci."
Her father shook his head.
"No."
Marco frowned.
"Then who?"
The man's eyes darkened.
"You."
The word hit like a punch.
Marco stared at him.
"That's not how I remember it."
"Of course not," the man replied calmly.
"You thought you were killing Ricci."
Alisha looked between them.
"Wait…"
Her father continued.
"Ricci set us both up."
Marco's expression hardened.
"That doesn't explain why you disappeared."
"It was the only way to survive."
"And now you suddenly come back?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
The man's eyes moved to Alisha again.
"Because she's in danger."
Marco laughed dryly.
"She's been in danger since the moment she started investigating us."
"You don't understand," the man said quietly.
Marco's patience snapped.
"Then explain it."
The man stepped closer.
His voice dropped low.
"The investigation she started…"
Alisha felt her stomach twist.
"What about it?"
"…was never supposed to reach you."
Marco frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Her father looked at Alisha carefully.
"You weren't supposed to find those files."
Her heart skipped.
"But I did."
"Yes."
"Why?"
He hesitated.
And in that moment Marco noticed something.
Fear.
Real fear.
"You're hiding something," Marco said.
The man ignored him.
"Alisha," he said softly.
"You need to stop the investigation."
Her eyes narrowed.
"No."
His expression tightened.
"You don't understand what you're digging into."
"Then tell me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because the moment you know the full truth…"
His voice lowered.
"…they'll come for you."
Marco stepped closer now.
"They already have."
The man looked directly at him.
"No."
His voice was deadly serious.
"You haven't seen them yet."
Alisha felt a cold chill crawl up her spine.
"Who are they?"
Her father didn't answer.
Instead he reached into his coat pocket.
Marco instantly grabbed Alisha's arm.
"Careful."
The man slowly pulled out a small envelope.
He handed it to her.
"What's this?"
"Proof."
"Proof of what?"
"That the war you think you're fighting…"
He glanced at Marco.
"…is much bigger than both of us."
Alisha opened the envelope slowly.
Inside was a photograph.
Her heart stopped the moment she saw it.
It was a picture taken years ago.
Three men standing together.
Marco.
Luca Ricci.
And her father.
But that wasn't the shocking part.
The shocking part was the fourth person standing beside them.
A man Marco had never seen before.
A man whose face had been circled in red ink.
Alisha looked up slowly.
"Who is this?"
Her father's voice dropped into a whisper.
"That…"
"…is the man who actually runs the city."
Marco felt a chill run through his body.
"Impossible."
But her father shook his head.
"No."
Then he said the words that changed everything again.
"And he knows you're coming."
Suddenly—
A loud gunshot echoed down the street.
Alisha gasped.
Marco instantly pulled her behind him.
Enzo drew his weapon.
Across the road—
The black car's window rolled down and a rifle appeared.
Marco's voice snapped through the air.
"MOVE!"
Because the bullet wasn't aimed at him.
It was aimed directly at—
Alisha's father.