Chapter 12 - THE PATERNITY LIE
“No.”
The word came out of me before I understood it.
Elena’s face remained grave.
“Isabella—”
“No.”
Gabriel looked shattered.
Vincent stared at his mother.
“You’re saying Marco assaulted Alessandra?”
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
“Then explain.”
“Alessandra was involved with Marco before Daniel.”
The revelation felt almost worse because it sounded ordinary.
A relationship.
A secret.
A mistake.
Not some dramatic act of violence.
Something people could hide because they were ashamed.
Elena continued.
“She was seventeen.”
“Marco was thirty-eight.”
Vincent’s face darkened.
“My uncle was using her.”
“Yes.”
“Did Father know?”
“Eventually.”
“What happened?”
“She became pregnant.”
I stopped breathing.
Elena looked at me.
“She lost the pregnancy.”
My chest loosened slightly.
Then tightened again when she continued.
“Years later she became involved with Daniel.”
“She believed she was pregnant with Daniel’s child.”
“So did Daniel.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“I did.”
“What changed?”
Elena’s expression became painful.
“Alessandra discovered old medical records shortly before she disappeared.”
I frowned.
“What records?”
“Blood testing.”
“You’re saying she learned Daniel wasn’t my father?”
“She suspected.”
“Did she confirm it?”
“Not before the lake house.”
I shook my head.
“This makes no sense.”
Elena reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
She accepted it.
“Marco had secretly remained in contact with her.”
“Why?”
“Blackmail.”
“Over what?”
“Her first pregnancy.”
I felt disgusted.
“He threatened to tell Daniel?”
“And Vincent.”
“And Antonio.”
“And society.”
“That sounds pathetic.”
“In our world twenty-eight years ago, scandal could alter entire inheritances.”
“It still sounds pathetic.”
Elena almost smiled.
“You have more sense than all of us did.”
I didn’t want praise.
I wanted facts.
“If Marco might be my father, why did my birth certificate say Daniel?”
“Because Alessandra wanted Daniel to be your father.”
I looked at Gabriel.
He was crying silently.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
His answer came immediately.
“I swear I didn’t.”
I believed him.
Maybe because he looked destroyed.
Maybe because nobody could perform that kind of grief.
The smoke thickened.
Thomas ordered everyone outside.
We moved through another corridor.
Fire alarms screamed.
The explosion had damaged an underground utility room.
No one was seriously hurt.
Margaret was gone.
Again.
By the time we reached the courtyard, federal vehicles surrounded the property.
Vincent looked at Elena.
“You are coming with us.”
She nodded.
“No more disappearing.”
“No more.”
He almost laughed.
“Forgive me if I don’t trust that.”
She lowered her eyes.
“I earned that.”
Vivian sat with Camille inside an ambulance.
They refused medical treatment beyond basic checks.
I stood alone near the fountain.
Snow had stopped.
Gabriel approached.
I didn’t look at him.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“Good.”
He stopped several feet away.
“I meant what I told you.”
“What part?”
“That I loved your mother.”
I turned.
“Did she love you?”
“Yes.”
“Then that matters.”
He blinked.
I surprised myself too.
“You were the man who intended to raise me.”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“You gave Salvatore the lake house address.”
“Yes.”
“You abandoned my mother when she needed you.”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
“You spent twenty-eight years hiding.”
“Yes.”
“Those things matter too.”
“I know.”
I looked away.
“I don’t know what you are to me.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
“Good.”
“But if Marco is my biological father, that does not make him my father.”
Gabriel’s eyes closed.
That sentence seemed to hurt him in a different way.
A hopeful way.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t thanking you for forgiving me.”
“Then what?”
“For understanding the difference.”
Thomas approached.
He held a tablet.
“We have preliminary results.”
“What results?”
“Hair recovered from Marco’s vehicle.”
“How?”
“Ethan Pike abandoned another car.”
“Inside we found personal items belonging to Marco.”
“And?”
“We compared a sample with your DNA from the hospital system.”
I frowned.
“You accessed my medical records?”
Thomas paused.
“That is a conversation for another day.”
I almost laughed.
“Wonderful.”
He continued.
“The probability that Marco Moretti is your biological father is less than one percent.”
I stared.
“What?”
Gabriel looked stunned.
“So Elena was wrong.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Not necessarily.”
“How?”
“The test shows Marco is closely related to Isabella.”
My stomach tightened.
“How closely?”
“Likely great-uncle.”
I looked at Elena across the courtyard.
“Then who is my father?”
Thomas turned the tablet.
“The DNA suggests your father was Marco’s nephew.”
Vincent frowned.
“My cousin?”
Elena’s face changed when she heard.
She walked toward us.
“No.”
Thomas looked at her.
“You know who.”
Elena covered her mouth.
Vincent stepped closer.
“Mother.”
She looked at him.
“There was another Moretti.”
“Who?”
Elena whispered.
“Your father had a son before we married.”
The courtyard became silent.
Vincent’s expression froze.
“My father had another son?”
“Yes.”
“What was his name?”
“Julian.”
“Where is he?”
Elena began crying.
“I don’t know.”
Thomas looked at his notes.
“We do.”
Everyone turned.
He showed us a photograph.
A middle-aged man in a dark suit stood beside Salvatore DeMarco at a charity event.
I recognized him.
So did Vivian.
She whispered.
“That’s Jonathan Reed.”
Vincent’s executive assistant.
The man with full access to his schedule.
The man who had coordinated the engagement party.
The man with access to the Belladonna security network.
The person who could have warned Salvatore.
The person who had been standing inside Belladonna House the entire time.
Thomas looked at me.
“Jonathan Reed’s birth name is Julian Moretti.”
My stomach dropped.
“And based on the genetic match…”
Thomas continued.
“He is almost certainly your biological father.”
At that exact moment, Vincent’s phone rang.
Jonathan Reed’s name appeared on the screen.
Vincent answered.
“Where are you?”
Jonathan laughed softly.
“You found the DNA.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“Where are you?”
“Ask Isabella.”
I stared.
Jonathan continued.
“She already knows.”
“No, I don’t.”
He heard me.
“Hello, daughter.”
My skin crawled.
“What do you want?”
“The same thing everyone has wanted from the beginning.”
“The trust?”
“No.”
“The ledger?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Jonathan’s voice became quiet.
“The locket.”
I looked down.
“Why?”
“Because you still haven’t figured out what your mother hid inside it.”
The call ended.
I stared at the antique silver locket.
I had opened it a thousand times.
A photograph.
Nothing more.
Vincent held out his hand.
“May I?”
I gave it to him.
He examined the hinge.
Gabriel leaned closer.
“There.”
A tiny groove.
Vincent pressed it.
The back panel opened.
Inside was a paper no larger than a postage stamp.
On it were twelve handwritten numbers.
Coordinates.
Thomas entered them into his tablet.
A location appeared.
Vivian leaned over his shoulder.
“Where is that?”
Thomas looked at me.
“A cemetery.”
My heart tightened.
“Whose grave?”
He zoomed in.
One name appeared.
TERESA ROMANO.
May you like
My mother’s grave.
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