Chapter 8 - The Night Lucia Died
Celeste stood perfectly still.
“I killed her?”
Warren did not answer immediately.
Adrian did.
“Don’t ask him like he’s the only person allowed to define what happened.”
Celeste looked at him.
Even now, after everything, Adrian noticed facts before blame.
“Warren.”
The doctor looked over.
“What medication?”
“A sedative.”
“Dose?”
“High.”
“Lethal?”
“Potentially.”
“Potentially is not yes.”
Warren’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Then why did Lucia die?”
Warren looked toward the lake.
“Her heart.”
Celeste whispered, “You told me I killed her.”
“I told you the medication might have contributed.”
“You made me forget.”
“You demanded it.”
“Because you told me Adrian would kill me if he knew.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
Warren looked at him.
“Wouldn’t you have?”
Adrian said nothing.
Six years ago?
Maybe.
That answer disgusted him more than Warren could.
Emily noticed.
“You’re not that man anymore.”
Adrian looked at her.
“No.”
Then Celeste remembered.
Not everything.
Enough.
“Lucia called me here.”
Adrian turned.
“She knew who I was.”
“She told me that night.”
Celeste pressed both hands to her face.
“She told me Vittorio was my father.”
“What happened?”
“I thought she was lying.”
Celeste’s voice fractured.
“I screamed at her. I accused her of destroying my mother. She said Sofia had tried to protect me from Vittorio.”
“And the medication?”
“Lucia started having chest pain.”
Warren looked away.
Celeste stared at him.
“You gave me the bottle.”
The doctor said nothing.
“You told me two pills.”
Still nothing.
“I gave her two.”
Adrian’s voice became dangerously calm.
“What was actually in them?”
Warren sighed.
“A sedative stronger than the label indicated.”
Celeste closed her eyes.
“But she was still alive when I left.”
Adrian looked sharply at her.
“What?”
“She told me to go.”
“Why?”
“She heard a car outside.”
Warren stood abruptly.
Marcus pushed him back into the chair.
Celeste continued.
“Lucia became terrified.”
“Of who?”
“I couldn’t remember.”
She looked at Warren.
“Until now.”
The doctor’s face changed.
Celeste whispered:
“Vittorio.”
Adrian felt something inside him settle.
Not surprise.
Confirmation.
His father had survived the funeral.
Survived Bellweather.
Survived every woman who tried to stop him.
“Where did he go afterward?” Adrian asked.
Warren said nothing.
Marcus tightened his grip.
Adrian raised one hand.
“No.”
He moved directly in front of Warren.
“No threats. No beating. That’s what my father would do.”
Warren looked at him.
“Then what will you do?”
“Give you one opportunity to decide whether your remaining years belong to Vittorio or to the truth.”
Warren laughed.
“You think the truth saves people?”
“No.”
Adrian looked toward Katherine’s photograph on Daniel’s phone.
“But lies already cost my son six years.”
Warren’s expression shifted.
That landed.
He slowly looked at Celeste.
“Vittorio has been sick for years.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“Who does?”
Warren hesitated.
“Thomas Bell.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“My father?”
“He’s alive.”
Marcus gripped the chair.
“Where?”
“He took the ledger and disappeared because it contains every location Vittorio used.”
“Why hasn’t he come forward?”
“Because Vittorio took something from him.”
Marcus’s voice dropped.
“What?”
Warren looked at Emily.
“Margaret Parker.”
Emily stopped.
“My mother died eight years ago.”
Warren’s face showed something almost like regret.
“I know.”
“What did Vittorio take?”
“Her last years.”
Emily’s eyes filled.
“Explain.”
“Margaret developed neurological symptoms.”
Emily remembered.
Her mother forgetting appointments.
Repeating stories.
Sometimes staring at Emily as if confused.
Doctors had called it early dementia.
“No.”
Warren continued.
“She had been exposed years earlier. The effects returned.”
Emily’s voice shook.
“You treated her?”
“Yes.”
“You could have told us.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
Emily stepped close enough that Warren could see every ounce of her hatred.
Then she did something Celeste had failed to do hours earlier.
She kept her hands at her sides.
“You don’t get to make me like you.”
Warren looked away.
That was the first time he seemed ashamed.
Marcus searched the summer house while Adrian called Katherine.
He told her enough.
Not all of it while Noah could hear.
Katherine was silent after learning Celeste was Adrian’s half-sister.
Then she asked, “Does Celeste know?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t leave her alone.”
Adrian frowned.
“She kidnapped Warren.”
“I know.”
“She locked Noah in a room.”
“I know.”
“Katherine—”
“She just learned the man who destroyed her mother was her father and the man she planned to marry was her brother.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“Fine.”
Katherine almost laughed softly.
“You still say ‘fine’ when you hate being reasonable.”
He had not realized she remembered that.
The small intimacy hurt.
Before ending the call, she said, “Adrian?”
“Yes?”
“I remember why I was hidden in your house.”
He straightened.
“Why?”
“Celeste moved me there three months ago because Vittorio found the previous location.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“She was protecting you?”
“Not exactly.”
Katherine’s voice lowered.
“She was protecting me from him.”
Adrian looked toward Celeste.
For six years, Celeste had imprisoned Katherine.
Drugged her.
Controlled her.
Kept her from Noah.
But recently she had also hidden Katherine inside the most secure property in Chicago.
Both truths could exist.
“What changed three months ago?”
“I started remembering Sofia.”
Adrian’s pulse shifted.
“What about her?”
“She told me something before she died.”
“What?”
“Vittorio had one weakness.”
Adrian waited.
“His pride?”
“No.”
“Money?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Katherine said, “You.”
Adrian frowned.
“She said Vittorio could accept losing everything except the Marchetti name.”
The call ended.
Marcus returned carrying a metal case.
“The master ledger?”
“No.”
He placed it on the table.
Inside were dozens of cassette copies.
And a videotape.
One label:
FOR ADRIAN
Adrian stared.
“Vittorio?”
“No handwriting match.”
Emily recognized it.
“My mother.”
They found an old television in a storage closet.
The tape played.
Margaret Parker appeared on-screen.
Older.
Already ill.
Emily covered her mouth.
“My beautiful Emily,” Margaret began.
Emily started crying before another word was spoken.
“If you ever see this, then Daniel found what I asked him never to find.”
Daniel lowered his head.
Margaret smiled sadly.
“I knew he would.”
Even Adrian almost smiled.
Then her expression changed.
“Vittorio Marchetti is alive.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“He believes blood gives him ownership.”
Margaret coughed.
“He is wrong.”
She explained that Thomas Bell had spent years collecting evidence while Lucia and Katherine created copies.
They had never gone public because Vittorio had allies inside law enforcement.
“But people retire,” Margaret said. “Judges leave office. Doctors die. Networks weaken.”
She looked directly into the camera.
“If enough years pass, the truth becomes safer than silence.”
Emily wiped her eyes.
Then Margaret held up the master ledger.
“Thomas has this.”
Marcus stepped toward the screen.
“Dad.”
“He promised to bring it to Adrian only when Vittorio could no longer destroy everyone named inside.”
Margaret lowered the ledger.
“But if Adrian is watching this, something happened before Thomas could come.”
She coughed again.
“One person can still find him.”
Everyone waited.
Margaret smiled weakly.
“His son.”
Marcus stared.
“I don’t know where he is.”
On the tape, Margaret continued.
“You do, Marcus. You just don’t know that you know.”
She held up a photograph.
A father and son fishing beside Lake Michigan.
Marcus at age twelve.
Thomas Bell beside him.
On the back of the photograph, visible to the camera, was a handwritten sentence:
When the city becomes dangerous, go where we never caught a fish.
Marcus began crying.
“I know.”
Adrian stood.
“Where?”
“My father took me fishing every summer.”
“Where did you never catch one?”
Marcus looked at him.
“Door County.”
Hours later, as dawn broke, a call came from Katherine.
Not mysterious.
Not unknown.
From the estate.
Adrian answered immediately.
“Katherine?”
“She’s here.”
His blood went cold.
“Who?”
Katherine’s voice remained steady.
“Someone came through the north passage.”
“Get Noah out.”
“I already did.”
“Who is it?”
A pause.
Then a man spoke through Katherine’s phone.
Older.
Weak.
But Adrian recognized the voice from the tapes.
“My son.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
Vittorio Marchetti continued:
“You’ve spent all night searching for dead men.”
A dry laugh.
May you like
“You should have stayed home and protected your wife.”
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