Chapter 5 - THE PRICE OF BEING SEEN
Gabriel moved me that night.
Not to his mansion.
Not to some underground fortress.
To a penthouse above Lake Michigan registered to a company with no obvious connection to him.
“You own secret apartments?” I asked.
“I own privacy.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“It is.”
My mother was transferred to a private recovery floor under Romano security.
I protested until Gabriel pointed out that someone had photographed me within minutes of our meeting.
That ended the argument.
Almost.
“I still want my own room.”
He looked offended.
“There are six.”
“Good.”
“Emily, I wasn't suggesting—”
“I know.”
His eyes narrowed.
I smiled.
It had been a terrible day.
Somehow annoying Gabriel Romano made it slightly better.
At 3:00 a.m., I found him in the kitchen.
He had removed his jacket. Tattoos climbed from his wrists beneath his rolled sleeves.
He was making coffee.
“You don't sleep?”
“Sometimes.”
“When?”
“March.”
I laughed.
He looked at me.
“What?”
“That was a joke.”
“Yes.”
“You make jokes?”
“Occasionally.”
“Should I call Luca? He'll want documentation.”
Gabriel's mouth moved.
Not quite a smile.
Close.
Then he became serious.
“Victor Hale's real name is Victor Caruso.”
“Does that mean something?”
“He worked for my father.”
“You said your father didn't have an attorney named Hale.”
“He wasn't an attorney.”
“What was he?”
Gabriel paused.
“An accountant who cleaned money for criminal organizations.”
I stared at him.
“And you?”
“I own legitimate companies.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“No.”
The honesty startled me.
He poured coffee.
“My father built an empire using methods I don't defend. When he died, I inherited enemies along with businesses. Some parts I dismantled. Some couldn't be dismantled without starting a war.”
“So when people call you a mafia boss…”
“They aren't entirely wrong.”
I wrapped both hands around the mug he gave me.
“Have you killed people?”
He met my eyes.
“Yes.”
No excuse.
No romantic answer.
Just yes.
I should have been terrified.
Part of me was.
“Why tell me?”
“Because everyone around you has lied.”
He leaned against the counter.
“I won't.”
“Even if the truth makes me leave?”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
That answer frightened me differently.
The next morning brought another shock.
Celeste arrived.
Alone.
She carried a suitcase.
“No,” I said.
“Please.”
“Your mother threatened mine for 12 years.”
“I didn't know.”
“You laughed when security threw me out.”
Her face reddened.
“I know.”
“That was yesterday.”
“I know.”
She lowered her eyes.
“I was horrible.”
There was no excuse attached.
That mattered.
“Why are you here?”
“Mom called me.”
Gabriel appeared behind me.
Celeste immediately stiffened.
“What did she say?” he asked.
“She told me to return the folder and forget everything.”
“Anything else?”
“She said Dad had finally done what he should've done 12 years ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
Celeste handed me her phone.
A message from Vivien appeared.
You chose that girl over your family. Don't contact me again.
That girl.
Her husband's first daughter did not even deserve a name.
Gabriel took the phone.
“Luca can trace this.”
Celeste nodded.
Then she looked at me.
“I don't expect you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
Her eyes watered.
“But I want to help.”
I studied her.
She resembled Richard around the eyes.
For years I had hated her because she received everything I hadn't.
But Celeste had been a child too.
She had been raised inside the version of history Richard created.
“Start with the ballroom,” I said. “Why did you bring me the folder?”
Her expression changed.
“Because I heard Dad and Mom arguing.”
“About me?”
“About Gabriel.”
Gabriel looked up.
“Richard said, ‘If Romano sees the girl, everything falls apart.’”
Cold moved through me.
Gabriel set down his coffee.
“Exact words?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Celeste thought.
“Mom said, ‘Then make sure he never sees her.’”
I remembered the ballroom.
Vivien signaling security.
Richard denying me.
Not merely shame.
Panic.
My father had needed me gone before Gabriel noticed me.
“Why?”
Gabriel walked toward the windows.
The answer was somewhere inside 12 years of lies.
Then Luca called.
Victor Caruso had been found.
Dead.
His body had been discovered in a motel room outside Chicago.
No documents.
No phone.
But investigators found one object hidden inside the lining of his coat.
A key.
It belonged to a private deposit box.
Three hours later, Gabriel and I stood inside a bank vault.
The box contained no money.
Only documents.
Photographs.
Birth records.
And a letter addressed to Margaret Bennett.
My hands shook as I opened it.
The letter was dated 12 years earlier.
Margaret,
If anything happens to me, Richard knows the truth about Emily. Do not trust him. The test was never meant to determine whether Richard was her father. It was meant to determine whether I was.
The signature below made Gabriel grab the table.
Matteo Romano.
His father.
I could not breathe.
Gabriel read the letter again.
Then looked at me.
The room tilted.
“If this is true…”
May you like
He finished what I couldn't.
“You're my sister.”
