Chapter 3 - The Name That Should Have Been Buried
Adrian stared at the ring.
I had expected anger.
Maybe suspicion.
What I didn't expect was fear.
Real fear.
The kind I had never seen in his eyes before.
“Romano,” he whispered.
I nodded.
“My father was Gabriel Romano.”
Adrian's fingers tightened around the wheelchair.
“My father knew him.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because my father told me about the Morettis.”
His eyes hardened.
“What exactly did he tell you?”
“That your father saved his life.”
Adrian said nothing.
The gunfire continued outside.
Security shouted orders.
Someone screamed.
Our son began crying.
I held him tighter.
“My father died protecting someone,” I said.
“Who?”
“A wounded boy.”
Adrian's face changed.
“What boy?”
“I never knew his name.”
He stared at me.
Then slowly, painfully, he whispered:
“Me.”
The room seemed to disappear.
“What?”
“I was sixteen.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“I was caught in an ambush.”
He looked toward the floor.
“Your father found me.”
My throat tightened.
“He saved you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did my father die?”
Adrian's expression became haunted.
“Because he refused to tell them where I was.”
My heart broke.
For years, I had imagined my father dying alone.
I had imagined him betrayed.
Abandoned.
Instead, he had died protecting a boy.
A boy who had grown into Adrian Moretti.
The man I had fallen in love with.
I stepped backward.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know who you were.”
“You knew Gabriel Romano.”
“I knew the man.”
“Not his daughter.”
“No.”
I looked at the ring.
“Then why did you choose me?”
Adrian's silence was answer enough.
“You didn't.”
His eyes lifted.
“What?”
“You didn't choose me.”
He looked away.
“Someone else did.”
“Who?”
Before he could answer, the library door exploded inward.
Three armed men entered.
Adrian fired first.
The first man fell.
I ducked.
The second raised his weapon.
I threw the silver candlestick.
It struck his wrist.
His gun fell.
Adrian finished him.
The third ran.
I grabbed the weapon.
“Don't.”
Adrian looked at me.
“I can protect myself.”
He nodded.
And for the first time, he looked at me not as the mother of his child.
But as an equal.
The attackers were driven back within minutes.
But one man had been captured alive.
Adrian dragged him into the library.
“Who sent you?”
The man laughed.
“You're already dead, Moretti.”
Adrian pressed the gun against his forehead.
“Wrong answer.”
The man looked at me.
Then smiled.
“Ask your wife.”
I froze.
Adrian's face darkened.
“What did you say?”
“She knows.”
He laughed.
“Your little Romano princess knows everything.”
Then he bit down.
Poison.
He died before we could stop him.
Adrian stared at the body.
I whispered:
“Someone knows who I am.”
“More than that.”
He looked at me.
“They know why you're here.”
“I told you why.”
“To save your mother.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“You were brought here because someone wanted the Romano bloodline inside this mansion.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who?”
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he called his most trusted lieutenant.
“Find out who arranged Melissa's contract.”
The man left.
Adrian looked at me.
“Until I know who is behind this, you're not leaving.”
“I don't belong here.”
“You belong beside me.”
My heart stopped.
He seemed to realize what he had said.
Neither of us spoke.
Then our baby cried.
Adrian looked at him.
And something in his face softened.
“You and him,” he whispered, “are the only things in this house I trust.”
I looked at him.
“You trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Even after I lied about my name?”
He moved closer.
“You lied because someone murdered your family.”
His eyes met mine.
“I lied because someone murdered mine too.”
And suddenly, I understood.
This wasn't just about love.
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It was about two bloodlines tied together by a secret that had survived sixteen years.
And someone was determined to kill us before we uncovered it.
