Chương 5 - The Bride Had Her Own PlanCeleste had vanished from her own wedding.
Now she was filing legal documents concerning my children.
I didn't know whether to be terrified or furious.
Dominic was both.
“Find her,” he told Marcus.
“We're trying.”
“Try harder.”
Marcus's expression remained calm.
“Her phone was recovered near the garage. Whoever took her knows how to avoid standard surveillance.”
Gabriel Moretti entered the room twenty minutes later carrying a laptop.
“I may know why Celeste filed the petition.”
Dominic turned.
“Start talking.”
Gabriel set the computer down.
“Three months ago, Celeste hired a private genealogist.”
I blinked.
“For what?”
“To investigate the Russo trust.”
Dominic stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because she discovered her marriage would change its structure.”
Vittorio muttered something in Italian.
Gabriel continued.
“If Dominic married before producing an heir, his spouse would receive temporary voting authority over certain assets if Dominic died.”
My stomach tightened.
“So Celeste would control part of the empire.”
“Temporarily.”
Dominic looked disgusted.
“I never told her.”
“She found out.”
“How?”
Gabriel glanced at Vittorio.
“Your father had her sign prenuptial documents.”
Dominic turned on him.
Vittorio lifted his chin.
“I was protecting family assets.”
“You were putting her inside something she didn't understand.”
“I explained enough.”
“Clearly not.”
Gabriel interrupted.
“Celeste discovered that if Dominic already had a biological son, most of those provisions became irrelevant.”
“And she somehow found out I was pregnant three years ago?” I asked.
“Not exactly.”
He turned the screen around.
A surveillance photograph appeared.
Me.
Zurich.
Six months earlier.
I was leaving Luca's preschool.
My blood ran cold.
“Who took this?”
“Celeste's investigator.”
Dominic stared at the photo.
“She found Elena?”
“Yes.”
“And didn't tell me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Gabriel clicked another file.
“Because she didn't know whether the children were yours.”
Three photographs followed.
Luca.
Noah.
Samuel.
Even without DNA, the resemblance was obvious.
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“How long did she know?”
“Approximately four months.”
I felt ill.
Four months.
Dominic had been planning a wedding while his fiancée knew his former love was alive with three children who might be his.
“Why didn't she confront you?” I asked.
Gabriel exhaled.
“According to her messages, she intended to.”
“Then why didn't she?”
“Because someone threatened her younger brother.”
Silence.
Gabriel showed us another message.
STOP DIGGING OR ETHAN DISAPPEARS.
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Where is her brother?”
“Safe. Federal academy in Virginia. She moved him two months ago.”
Federal academy.
I looked at Gabriel.
“What exactly does Celeste's family do?”
“Her father was a federal judge.”
Was.
The word mattered.
“He died?” I asked.
“Car accident twelve years ago.”
Vittorio suddenly sat down.
Every eye turned toward him.
“What?” Dominic asked.
His father looked disturbed.
“Judge Hart investigated Arden Freight.”
Gabriel stared at him.
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Before his accident?”
Vittorio nodded.
The room became much colder.
Dominic crossed his arms.
“What did Carlo do?”
“I don't know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I truly don't.”
Vittorio stood.
“Your uncle handled problems without discussing them with me.”
“And you allowed that.”
“Yes.”
At least he admitted it.
Gabriel looked at the hospital door.
“If Celeste learned her father had been investigating the same organization now threatening her, she may have realized the wedding was never merely personal.”
I understood.
“She thought someone wanted her married to Dominic.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Or dead beside him.”
The pieces were connecting in increasingly ugly ways.
Carlo.
Arden Freight.
Judge Hart.
My disappearance.
The trust.
Someone had been manipulating the Russo family for years.
Dominic's phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone looked at it.
He answered.
“Russo.”
A woman's voice came through.
“Dominic?”
Celeste.
He went rigid.
“Where are you?”
“I don't know.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Who has you?”
“They left me.”
“What?”
“I woke up in an office. The door's locked.”
Gabriel began tracing the call.
Celeste's breathing sounded unsteady.
“Dominic, listen to me. There's a folder here.”
“What folder?”
“It has Elena's name on it.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does it say?” I asked.
Celeste went silent.
“Elena?”
“Yes.”
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“I knew about the boys.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to tell him.”
“Later.”
I looked at Dominic.
“Read the folder.”
Pages rustled.
Celeste inhaled sharply.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“There are medical records.”
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
I gripped the bedrail.
“I wasn't hospitalized.”
“Not those kinds of records.”
More pages.
“Pregnancy tests. Ultrasounds. Blood work.”
Dominic stared at me.
My early pregnancy records.
I had only visited one obstetrician before leaving Boston.
“How does someone have those?” I whispered.
Celeste continued.
“There are notes from a clinic employee.”
“What notes?”
“Payment records.”
“For what?”
She stopped.
Dominic said her name.
“Celeste.”
Her voice dropped.
“Someone paid an employee at your clinic to report whether you were pregnant.”
Three years of confusion suddenly sharpened.
Carlo hadn't guessed.
Someone had confirmed it medically.
“Name,” Dominic said.
“What?”
“Who made the payments?”
Celeste read.
“Account holder is Arden Consulting.”
Again.
Always Arden.
Gabriel held up one finger.
He had almost traced the call.
Then Celeste gasped.
“There's another file.”
“What?”
“It says Russo succession.”
Silence.
She opened it.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Dominic...”
“Tell me.”
“There's a fourth child.”
Nobody breathed.
Dominic looked at Vittorio.
His father looked equally stunned.
“What fourth child?” I asked.
Celeste read quickly.
“A boy. Born twenty-nine years ago.”
Dominic's voice turned flat.
“To whom?”
“It doesn't say.”
“Father?”
Celeste paused.
Then whispered:
“Carlo Russo.”
The room erupted.
Carlo had a son.
A secret son.
Which meant the family trust had another heir.
And if that son existed, he could have spent years believing Dominic's children stood between him and control of everything.
Gabriel suddenly pointed to the laptop.
“I have Celeste's location.”
“Where?”
He looked up.
“The warehouse.”
The same address sent to me.
Dominic grabbed his jacket.
I stepped in front of him.
“You're not going alone.”
“You are absolutely not coming.”
“She's being held because of something connected to me.”
“She is being held because of my family.”
“Our sons are part of that family.”
He looked like he wanted to argue.
I didn't let him.
“Three years ago, I ran. I'm done running.”
Vittorio stared at me.
Perhaps he finally understood how thoroughly his plan had failed.
Dominic rubbed his jaw.
“Fine.”
His answer surprised everyone.
“You stay in the vehicle.”
“No promises.”
“Elena.”
“Dominic.”
For one brief second, his old frustrated smile appeared.
Then vanished.
We left the boys under hospital security with Dr. Patel.
Before leaving, Dominic crouched beside them.
“I have to go somewhere.”
Luca frowned.
“Are you coming back?”
The question destroyed something inside him.
Dominic put both hands gently on Luca's shoulders.
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
“I promise.”
Noah joined them.
“What if bad guys come?”
Dominic looked at me.
Then back at his sons.
“Your mom is very good at surviving bad guys.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I cried in the elevator.
The warehouse stood near the harbor, abandoned and rusted.
Rain hammered the roof as our convoy arrived.
Dominic ordered me to remain behind.
I lasted forty seconds.
Inside, we found Celeste tied to a chair but unharmed.
She stared at Dominic.
Then at me.
“You came.”
Dominic cut her restraints.
“Who did this?”
“I never saw his face.”
“Voice?”
“Distorted.”
Celeste pointed toward a desk.
“The files.”
Gabriel opened them.
Records covered thirty years.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
Names.
Then I saw one picture that stopped me.
A young woman holding a newborn.
On the back was written:
MATEO RUSSO — 1997.
Dominic stared at it.
“That isn't possible.”
“What?”
He pointed to the woman.
“I know her.”
“Who is she?”
His face had gone pale.
“My mother.”
Vittorio had always told Dominic his mother had died giving birth to him.
But the picture had been taken three years after Dominic was born.
Which meant Dominic's mother had been alive.
And holding Carlo's child.
Before anyone could speak, the warehouse lights snapped off.
A projector illuminated the far wall.
A man's face appeared.
Dark hair.
Dark eyes.
A scar crossing his cheek.
He looked disturbingly like Dominic.
“Hello, cousin,” he said.
Dominic stepped forward.
“Mateo.”
May you like
The man smiled.
“Good. Someone finally learned my name.”
Related Stories
