Chapter 4 - The Secret Our Parents Buried
My parents had lied to me for thirty years.
That was the first clear thought I had after we returned home.
My father sat in the library with a blanket over his knees despite insisting he was fine. My mother stood beside the fireplace. Dominic remained near the door.
I refused to sit.
“Start talking.”
My mother did.
At twenty-two, Helena Mercer had been engaged to Dominic DeLuca.
Not secretly.
Not casually.
Engaged.
I looked at Dominic.
“You were going to marry my mother?”
“Yes.”
His calm answer somehow made it stranger.
“What happened?”
“My father happened,” he said.
Dominic's father, Vittorio, had controlled a criminal organization that used legitimate construction, trucking, and import businesses to hide extortion and smuggling.
Dominic had wanted out.
Helena had believed him.
Then her younger brother was attacked after becoming collateral in a dispute involving Vittorio's men.
He survived.
Helena left Dominic the next morning.
“I thought his world would eventually kill everyone I loved,” she whispered.
“Was that unreasonable?” I asked.
“No,” Dominic answered before she could.
That surprised everyone.
Dominic continued.
“She made the correct decision with the information she had.”
My mother looked at him for a long moment.
My father shifted.
“Years later, Dominic dismantled much of his father's operation.”
“Much?” I asked.
Dominic's expression stayed level.
“Not every business bearing my family's name was legal. I won't insult you by pretending otherwise.”
“And now?”
“My holdings are legitimate.”
“Are you a mafia boss?”
Silence.
He could have lied.
Instead he said, “People still use that title because fear survives longer than facts. I inherited influence built through criminal means. Some men around me have criminal histories. I have spent twenty-three years separating legitimate businesses from what my father created.”
It was not absolution.
But it was an answer.
I turned to my mother.
“And Bellweather?”
Her face collapsed.
“I created it.”
“Why?”
“To move money.”
“From Dad's company?”
“I thought I was protecting it.”
My father interrupted.
“Helena was being blackmailed.”
I froze.
By whom?
The answer came from Dominic.
“My brother.”
Salvatore DeLuca.
A name I vaguely remembered from old newspapers.
Dominic's younger brother had vanished from public view almost a decade earlier.
“He told Helena he had evidence linking Charles to old transactions involving my father's companies,” Dominic said. “Whether that evidence is genuine remains unclear.”
My mother wiped her cheeks.
“He said if I didn't cooperate, Charles would go to prison and you girls would lose everything.”
“So you stole from your own husband?”
“I moved the money where Salvatore told me.”
“How much?”
She whispered the number.
Nearly four million dollars.
My father stared into the fire.
I understood then why he looked so much older.
He had known.
Perhaps not everything.
But enough.
“Rosalie?”
My mother shook her head quickly.
“She didn't know.”
I wasn't convinced.
Neither was Dominic.
Then his phone vibrated.
He read the message.
“Where is Rosalie?”
“With Julian,” I said.
Dominic called his son.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Marco entered without knocking.
“Sir.”
He handed Dominic a tablet.
Security footage.
A parking garage.
Timestamped twenty minutes earlier.
Rosalie hurried toward a black SUV.
A man stepped out.
Tall. Silver-haired. Familiar around the eyes.
Dominic's brother.
Salvatore.
Rosalie embraced him.
Not like a stranger.
Like someone she knew.
My mother made a broken sound.
“No.”
The footage continued.
Julian appeared moments later.
He confronted Rosalie.
There was no audio, but his anger was obvious.
Salvatore smiled.
Then two men emerged from the SUV.
The recording ended.
“Where are they?” I asked.
“We don't know.”
Dominic was already moving.
I caught his arm.
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
I tightened my grip.
His gaze dropped to my hand.
“Rosalie is my sister.”
“And Julian is my son.”
“Then we have the same problem.”
“No. I have people trained for this.”
“And I have spent my entire life letting other people decide what information I was strong enough to handle.”
He stared at me.
I didn't move.
Finally, he said, “Stay beside me.”
We left through the rear entrance.
Two SUVs waited.
Boston blurred past the windows as Marco worked his phone.
Dominic sat beside me.
Again.
Like the first night.
Only this time his silence wasn't gentle.
It was lethal.
“Will your brother hurt them?”
“Yes.”
No comforting lie.
“Why?”
“To hurt me.”
“Why involve Rosalie?”
“Because she has been feeding him information.”
My stomach dropped.
“You know that?”
“Bellweather records show logins from her apartment.”
I closed my eyes.
The betrayal hurt differently this time.
Julian had broken my heart.
Rosalie might have helped break my family.
Dominic's hand rested on the seat between us.
Not touching me.
Available.
I stared at it.
Then placed my hand over his.
He turned toward me.
Neither of us spoke.
Marco finally looked back.
“We found Julian's phone.”
“Where?”
“Charlestown Navy Yard.”
Twenty minutes later, we entered an abandoned warehouse near the water.
Julian sat tied to a chair.
Blood marked his white shirt.
Rosalie was beside him.
Unhurt.
Untied.
She stood when she saw me.
“Aurelia, listen—”
I stopped.
Salvatore emerged from the shadows.
He looked so much like Dominic that for one terrible second I understood how families could mistake inheritance for destiny.
“Well,” Salvatore said.
His eyes moved from Dominic to me.
Then he smiled.
“My brother finally brought the woman he's been watching for thirty years.”
I felt Dominic stiffen beside me.
Salvatore's smile widened.
“Didn't he tell you, Aurelia?”
“Tell me what?”
Salvatore looked delighted.
“The reason Dominic was outside that ballroom wasn't Julian.”
May you like
He pointed at me.
“It was you.”
