Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO WORE HIS FATHER'S RING
“That's impossible,” Dante Ferraro said.
His security chief, Vincent Russo, stood inside the private study holding the photograph beneath a brass desk lamp.
“The reflection matches your brother's estate, Boss. The arched window, the stone columns, even the old greenhouse outside.”
Dante stared at the photograph.
“And the man?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Your brother, Gabriel.”
Across the room, Isabella gripped the back of a leather chair.
For the first time that evening, she looked genuinely frightened.
I stood beside Evelyn Ferraro, supporting her trembling arm.
“Gabriel visits your father's memorial every year,” Vincent continued. “Same date. Same black suit. Same ring on his right hand.”
Dante lowered his eyes toward his own hand.
The heavy gold Ferraro family ring rested against his finger.
“My father had one ring,” he said.
Evelyn shook her head.
“No, sweetheart.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“Your grandfather had two made. One for your father. One for the son he trusted to protect the family.”
Dante looked confused.
“Father gave me his ring after the funeral.”
“He gave you a ring,” Evelyn answered. “But not the one he wore when he disappeared.”
Isabella moved toward the doorway.
“Mother, you're tired. This conversation isn't helping.”
“Sit down, Isabella,” Dante said.
She stopped.
I had worked in the Ferraro mansion for ten months, but I had never seen Dante look at his sister that way.
Not angry.
Wounded.
“Sixteen years,” he said quietly. “I've visited a grave for sixteen years. Are you telling me our father was alive the entire time?”
Isabella's mouth tightened.
“I'm telling you that sometimes people make arrangements to protect their families.”
“Where is he?”
She looked at Evelyn.
“Mother knows.”
Evelyn squeezed my hand.
“She knows where he was kept. But she doesn't know where they moved him last spring.”
Dante approached his mother.
“Mom, why didn't you tell me?”
Evelyn looked down at the black pearl.
“Because every time I tried, something happened.”
“What happened?”
“My letters disappeared. My telephone stopped working. Then the doctors started telling everyone I couldn't remember things.”
Isabella shook her head.
“Mother, please.”
Evelyn turned toward her daughter.
“You took my bedroom keys.”
“I was trying to keep you safe.”
“You took my photographs.”
“Because you kept confusing the past with the present!”
“You took my husband's watch.”
Isabella went silent.
Dante noticed.
“What watch?”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Your father's silver pocket watch. He carried it every day. There was a small dent in the cover from the afternoon Gabriel dropped it when he was nine.”
Dante remembered that watch.
I could see it in his face.
“Father promised Gabriel he'd inherit it.”
Evelyn nodded.
“And Gabriel has never forgiven you for inheriting the ring instead.”
The room fell quiet.
Then Vincent placed a tablet on the desk.
“Boss, we checked the Albany property.”
He displayed a photograph of an enormous stone estate surrounded by autumn trees.
I recognized the iron gates.
I'd seen them before.
Not in person.
In a photograph tucked inside Evelyn's bedside Bible.
“That's Briarwood,” Dante said.
Vincent nodded.
“Registered through a private holding company. Gabriel has controlled it for fourteen years.”
Dante turned toward Isabella.
“Fourteen years?”
She swallowed.
“Gabriel manages the property.”
“And Father was there?”
“I never said that.”
Evelyn suddenly reached for the photograph.
“Look at his left hand.”
Vincent enlarged the image.
Dante's father, Antonio Ferraro, was sitting upright in a hospital bed.
His face looked thin, but his eyes were unmistakably alert.
His left hand rested against a folded blanket.
Around his wrist was a narrow hospital bracelet.
There was writing on it.
Vincent sharpened the photograph.
ANTONIO FERRARO — VISITOR RESTRICTED.
Below the name appeared another line.
AUTHORIZED CONTACT: I. FERRARO.
Dante stared at Isabella.
“You were his authorized contact.”
She looked away.
“You don't understand what was happening back then.”
“Then explain it.”
Her hands began trembling.
“Father had made enemies. Serious enemies. He was preparing to cooperate with federal investigators.”
Dante stiffened.
“Against whom?”
Isabella looked toward Evelyn.
“Against someone inside our own family.”
Evelyn lowered her head.
Dante's voice hardened.
“Who?”
Isabella whispered, “Gabriel.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Dante laughed once, without humor.
“So Gabriel knew Father was alive?”
“Yes.”
“And you helped him?”
“I helped Father survive.”
“By letting me bury an empty coffin?”
Isabella's eyes filled.
“You were twenty-seven. You'd just taken control of the family. Father believed that if you knew where he was, you would go after the people threatening him.”
“I'm forty-three now.”
“I know.”
“Then why am I still being lied to?”
She couldn't answer.
Dante turned away.
“Vincent, prepare the cars. We're going to Briarwood.”
“Boss,” Vincent said carefully, “Gabriel has already been informed that we're investigating the property.”
“How?”
Vincent glanced toward the security monitor.
“The estate's private security system transmitted an alert when I accessed its records.”
Dante looked at Isabella.
She shook her head.
“I didn't warn him.”
I believed her.
For reasons I couldn't explain, her fear seemed deeper than the fear of being caught.
She looked like a woman who had spent sixteen years waiting for something terrible to happen.
Evelyn suddenly gripped my wrist.
“Madison, my bedroom.”
I leaned closer.
“What about it?”
“The blue sewing box. Under the lining.”
“What is inside?”
She whispered something that made my stomach tighten.
“Proof that Gabriel wasn't the person your father feared most.”
Before I could ask another question, Dante's phone vibrated.
Vincent had received a live security image from the Albany estate.
A black sedan stood outside the main entrance.
Two men were helping an elderly figure into the back seat.
Dante moved closer.
“Enlarge it.”
The image became clearer.
An elderly man.
Silver hair.
Dark wool coat.
A silver pocket watch chain hanging from his vest.
Antonio Ferraro.
Alive.
Dante pressed one hand against the desk.
“Father.”
Then another figure appeared beside the sedan.
Gabriel Ferraro.
Dante's younger brother.
Gabriel leaned toward the elderly man.
Antonio suddenly raised his head toward the security camera.
His lips moved.
Vincent switched on the camera's audio feed.
The recording was faint, but the words were clear.
“TELL DANTE NOT TO TRUST THE WOMAN WHO BROUGHT HIM INTO THIS WORLD.”
May you like
Dante turned slowly toward his mother.
And Evelyn began to cry.
