She Came to Tell the Mafia Boss He Was Going to Be a Father, but the Woman in His Arms Was Only the Beginning of the Betrayal

Claire did not know which hurt more.

That Elena had betrayed her.

Or that they had shared the same family blood without either of them knowing.

She stared at the adoption record.

"Did Elena know?"

Rebecca looked troubled.

"I don't know."

Vincent studied the document.

"If Cross found Northstar's ownership records, he may have found the adoption records too."

Claire looked up.

"Then he could have used them to manipulate her."

"Possibly."

Daniel entered.

"Police found the crash site. No bodies."

Claire stood immediately.

"My father?"

"Missing."

Vincent reached for his coat.

"We're leaving."

This time Claire followed without hesitation.

They drove north through the rain.

For nearly an hour, neither spoke.

Finally, Vincent broke the silence.

"I should have told you about Thomas."

Claire stared out the window.

"Yes."

"I was afraid you'd hate me."

"You didn't give me the chance to decide."

He nodded.

"You're right."

The honesty surprised her.

She looked at him.

"Did you ever love Elena?"

"No."

"Did you want to kiss her?"

"No."

"Then why did you?"

Vincent gripped the steering wheel.

"Because I let myself believe business consequences mattered more than your dignity."

Claire swallowed.

"That's a terrible answer."

"It's the truth."

She looked away.

"I don't know if I can forgive you."

"I know."

"And I don't want you asking me to."

"I won't."

Silence returned.

Then Vincent said quietly, "I never stopped loving you."

Claire closed her eyes.

That was the cruelest part.

She believed him.

But love had not prevented him from humiliating her.

And she no longer believed love was enough.

They reached the crash site shortly before dawn.

Police lights flashed against wet pine trees.

Marco met them near the road.

"We found tracks leading into the woods."

"Two people?" Vincent asked.

"Yes."

Claire stepped closer.

"Any blood?"

"Some near the vehicle. Not enough to suggest a fatal injury."

A state trooper approached.

"Mr. Moretti, we need you to remain outside the search area."

Vincent nodded.

Claire looked past him.

Beyond the trees, the coastline was barely visible.

Somewhere out there was a father she had mourned for twenty-three years.

She took a breath.

"Please find him."

The trooper's expression softened.

"We're doing everything we can."

An hour later, search teams found an abandoned fishing cabin.

Inside were two blankets, an empty first-aid kit and a bloodstained handkerchief.

But no people.

On the wooden table lay a note.

Tell Claire I'm sorry.

Claire recognized the handwriting from her father's old birthday cards.

Her knees weakened.

Vincent caught her elbow.

She pulled away.

Not angrily.

Simply because she needed to stand on her own.

Then Marco noticed something beneath the table.

A small recording device.

Its memory contained one audio file.

Thomas's voice filled the cabin.

"Claire, if you're hearing this, I'm alive. I never stopped thinking about you."

Claire began to cry.

"I wanted to come home. God knows I tried."

A pause.

Then Thomas continued.

"But the people who wanted me dead were still watching Margaret. They were watching you."

Another pause.

"I stayed away because I believed it was the only way to keep you safe."

Claire pressed a hand over her mouth.

Then her father's voice changed.

"There's something you need to know about Adrian Cross."

Vincent leaned forward.

"His real name is Adrian Moretti."

The room went silent.

Thomas continued.

"He's Vincent's half brother."

Claire turned slowly.

Vincent looked as though someone had struck him.

"That's impossible."

Thomas's recording continued.

"His mother was one of the women your grandfather kept hidden. Adrian grew up believing the Moretti family stole everything that should have belonged to him."

Vincent shook his head.

"My father never mentioned another son."

"He wouldn't have," Thomas said from the recording. "Adrian's mother threatened to expose the old shipping operation. Your father paid her to disappear."

The file ended.

Vincent stared at the device.

Claire watched his expression.

For the first time, she saw genuine confusion in the man who had always seemed to know every secret in Boston.

"You didn't know?"

He shook his head.

"No."

A police radio crackled.

Then Marco's phone rang.

He listened.

His face hardened.

"Vincent."