Chapter 16 - Lucia’s Secret
Salvatore did not ask Vittorio immediately.
He wanted Dante’s words to be manipulation.
Dante knew how to find wounds.
Lucia was the deepest.
She had died five years earlier after a long illness.
Salvatore had spent years learning to remember her without collapsing.
He refused to let Dante contaminate that memory.
But that evening, Vittorio noticed his silence.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Vittorio raised an eyebrow.
Salvatore remembered that expression from childhood.
He sighed.
“Dante mentioned Lucia.”
Vittorio’s expression changed.
Tiny.
But enough.
Salvatore saw it.
“What did she know?”
Vittorio looked away.
Salvatore’s heart sank.
“Dad.”
Vittorio sat down.
“Lucia knew about Emery before you did.”
Salvatore stared.
“What?”
“Not Emery specifically.”
“Then what?”
“She knew I was searching for Alessandro’s descendants.”
Salvatore felt betrayed again.
“My wife knew?”
“Yes.”
“And she never told me?”
“I asked her not to.”
Salvatore walked toward the window.
“Everyone in my life apparently kept secrets because you asked.”
Vittorio accepted the anger.
“Lucia was different.”
“How?”
“She found out accidentally.”
Salvatore turned.
Vittorio explained.
Six years before Lucia died, she served on the board of the DeLuca Foundation.
She noticed unusual payments to genealogical researchers.
She confronted Vittorio.
He told her about Alessandro.
Lucia became fascinated.
She encouraged Vittorio to find the family.
Then Lucia became ill.
During treatment, she and Salvatore learned they would never have biological children.
Salvatore remembered the devastation.
Lucia had blamed herself.
He spent years telling her there was nothing to blame.
Vittorio continued.
“Lucia once told me that if something happened to her, she did not want you to spend the rest of your life alone.”
Salvatore’s eyes filled.
“She said you were meant to be a father.”
He looked down.
Vittorio’s voice softened.
“She asked me to promise that if I ever found Alessandro’s descendants and there was a child who needed family, I would introduce you.”
Salvatore could barely speak.
“Emery.”
“Yes.”
“So Lucia…”
“She never knew Emery.”
“She died before Sofia.”
“But the possibility was partly her idea.”
Salvatore covered his mouth.
For years, he had believed adopting Emery was the first meaningful decision he made after Lucia’s death.
Now he discovered Lucia had unknowingly helped lead him toward it.
Dante had intended the secret to hurt him.
Instead it returned something beautiful.
Salvatore laughed through tears.
“That bastard thought this would destroy me.”
Vittorio smiled.
“Dante never understood love unless it could be used as leverage.”
Emery wandered into the room.
“Why are you crying?”
Salvatore wiped his face.
“Happy reason.”
She looked suspicious.
“Adults are weird.”
“Yes.”
Vittorio agreed.
“Very.”
Salvatore told Emery about Lucia in simple terms.
He explained that Lucia had once hoped he would become a father again after losing her.
Emery thought quietly.
“Would she like me?”
Salvatore answered without hesitation.
“She would adore you.”
Emery smiled.
“Can we put her picture in my room?”
Salvatore’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
That night, Salvatore finally understood one of Vittorio’s deepest motives.
Emery had never been chosen only because of blood.
She represented several promises intersecting.
Alessandro’s lost family.
Sofia’s child.
Lucia’s hope.
Vittorio’s regret.
Salvatore’s second chance.
The inheritance was almost secondary.
The next court hearing focused on Francesca.
She entered in a plain dark suit.
No jewelry.
No attendants.
No DeLuca insignia.
Salvatore barely recognized her.
She pleaded guilty to several charges under a cooperation agreement.
The judge did not allow her wealth or age to erase the seriousness.
Sentencing would occur later.
When proceedings ended, Francesca asked to speak to Vittorio for five minutes.
Vittorio surprised Salvatore.
He agreed.
They met in a supervised room.
Salvatore did not enter.
He waited outside.
Five minutes became ten.
Then fifteen.
Finally Vittorio emerged.
His eyes were red.
Salvatore stood.
“What happened?”
Vittorio shook his head.
“Forty-seven years happened.”
Francesca was escorted away.
She looked toward Salvatore.
She did not ask to speak.
She only nodded.
He nodded back.
That was all.
Vittorio later explained.
Francesca admitted she had known Lucia discovered parts of the genealogy.
She resented Lucia.
She feared Salvatore and Lucia might produce an heir stronger than Dante.
When Lucia became ill, Francesca secretly felt relieved.
The confession horrified Vittorio.
Francesca said she had hated herself for the thought ever since.
Salvatore felt sick hearing it.
“She was relieved Lucia was dying?”
Vittorio answered carefully.
“She said the thought entered her mind.”
“She did not cause the illness.”
“That doesn’t make it acceptable.”
“No.”
Salvatore stared at the wall.
Every time he thought he understood the limits of Francesca’s jealousy, he discovered another room inside it.
Vittorio touched his shoulder.
“Do not let her worst thought rewrite Lucia’s life.”
Salvatore nodded.
He tried.
Weeks passed.
Dante’s trial approached.
Federal prosecutors offered a plea agreement.
Dante refused.
He wanted a trial.
He wanted a stage.
His attorneys planned to challenge Emery’s ancestry.
They claimed the genealogy had been manipulated.
They claimed Vittorio was mentally unstable.
They claimed Francesca had fabricated accusations to save herself.
Dante intended to drag every secret into public court.
Salvatore initially hated the idea.
Then Isabella said something.
“Good.”
He looked at her.
“Good?”
“Let him.”
She placed Sofia’s documents on the table.
“For eight years, he survived because everything stayed hidden.”
“He wants a public courtroom?”
She smiled.
“Give him one.”
The trial began in March.
Media filled the courthouse.
Dante arrived smiling.
Francesca entered through another door as a cooperating witness.
Vittorio sat behind prosecutors.
Isabella sat beside Salvatore.
Emery did not attend.
Salvatore refused to make her part of the spectacle.
The government’s case was overwhelming.
Financial records.
Videos.
Witnesses.
Medical files.
Audio recordings.
Security data.
Dr. Crane testified for three days.
Marcello testified too.
He admitted his crimes.
His voice shook as he described betraying Vittorio.
Dante’s lawyers attacked him viciously.
Marcello accepted it.
Then Francesca took the stand.
The courtroom changed.
Dante stared at her.
For the first time, mother and son faced each other publicly.
The prosecutor asked.
“Mrs. DeLuca, who is Dante Vale?”
Francesca looked directly at him.
“My son.”
A murmur filled the courtroom.
“And did you spend decades attempting to position him within the DeLuca family?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I believed he was Alessandro DeLuca’s son.”
“Was he?”
Francesca looked down.
“No.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“Who was his father?”
“Roberto DeLuca.”
The prosecutor continued.
“When did you learn Dante already knew this?”
Francesca looked at him.
“The night he kidnapped me.”
Dante laughed suddenly.
The judge warned him.
Francesca continued.
“He told me I was useful because I believed the lie.”
Her voice broke.
“He said I had spent my entire life building a throne for a king who knew he was counterfeit.”
Dante stopped laughing.
Francesca looked at him.
“I loved you.”
The prosecutor paused.
Dante stared back.
Francesca continued.
“I loved you more than I loved truth.”
“I loved you more than I loved your brother.”
Salvatore lowered his eyes.
“I loved you more than I loved your father.”
Vittorio looked away.
“And because I called that love, I excused every monster you became.”
Dante stood suddenly.
“You made me.”
The courtroom erupted.
The judge ordered him seated.
Dante shouted again.
“You made me believe I was owed everything.”
Francesca began crying.
“Yes.”
Her answer silenced him.
“I did.”
She looked directly at her son.
“And I will spend the rest of my life regretting it.”
Dante was forced back into his chair.
The trial continued.
Then his attorneys called their surprise witness.
A woman Salvatore had never seen.
She was approximately sixty.
She gave her name.
“Claudia Marin.”
Isabella went pale.
Salvatore looked at her.
“Who is she?”
Isabella whispered.
“My mother.”
Salvatore froze.
Celeste’s daughter.
Sofia and Isabella’s mother.
The woman everyone believed had died almost twenty years earlier.
Claudia looked toward Isabella.
Isabella stood.
“Mom?”
The courtroom exploded into whispers.
Claudia did not smile.
She looked directly toward Dante.
Then toward Emery’s empty seat.
And finally toward Salvatore.
“I’m here to tell the court the genealogy is wrong.”
Salvatore’s stomach dropped.
Claudia continued.
May you like
“Emery is not Alessandro DeLuca’s descendant.”
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