Chapter 8 - THE DEAD PATRIARCH WAS WAITING IN SICILY
Even Victor seemed to enjoy the silence his revelation created.
Lucia stared down the stairwell.
Gabriel arrived behind Rachel.
“What did you say?”
Victor leaned against the railing.
Blood spread slowly across his trouser leg.
Lucia’s shot had hit him below the knee.
“You heard me.”
Gabriel descended one step.
“My father died eighteen years ago.”
“Did he?”
Gabriel’s expression became almost bored.
Rachel recognized the defense.
The more shaken he was, the calmer he appeared.
“I saw his body.”
Victor laughed.
“Did you?”
Gabriel stopped.
Rachel thought of Isabella.
Sophie.
Caroline.
Anthony.
Every death in this story came with a question mark.
Victor continued.
“Your father discovered what Daniel and I were doing. He planned to expose us.”
Daniel shouted from above.
“Stop talking.”
Victor looked at him with contempt.
“You’ve lost.”
Daniel’s face twisted.
Victor smiled at Gabriel.
“Alessandro knew an open war would kill his family. So he disappeared.”
Gabriel’s voice hardened.
“My father had cancer.”
“Yes.”
“He was dying.”
“He recovered.”
“What?”
“Misdiagnosis.”
Gabriel looked ready to kill him.
Victor raised one hand.
“My diagnosis.”
Understanding spread.
Victor had convinced Alessandro he was terminally ill.
Why?
To push succession early.
To move Gabriel into power before he understood the internal corruption.
But Alessandro discovered the deception.
“He staged his death?”
Victor nodded.
“With help.”
“Whose?”
Victor looked at Lucia.
She whispered, “My mother.”
Gabriel stared.
Lucia’s mother had been Alessandro’s first lover.
The woman who had never wanted his money.
Victor laughed weakly.
“Your father has been hiding in Sicily while his children destroyed each other.”
Lucia stepped down.
“You don’t know where he is.”
Victor’s smile disappeared.
That confirmed something.
Lucia did.
Gabriel looked at her.
“You knew?”
“For three years.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
Another family member.
Another secret.
Gabriel’s disappointment was almost worse than anger.
Lucia lowered the weapon.
“I found him while searching for Isabella.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“He refused.”
Gabriel laughed without humor.
“Of course he did.”
Victor tried moving.
Marco appeared below and placed him in restraints.
Daniel suddenly shoved Cassandra toward Gabriel and ran upward.
Anthony chased him.
Cassandra stumbled into Rachel.
For one second, the two women faced each other.
Cassandra looked exhausted.
“I’m sorry.”
Rachel stared.
“No, you’re scared.”
Cassandra’s eyes filled.
“Both.”
She looked toward Gabriel.
“He promised Sophie would be safe.”
“Who?”
“Victor.”
Gabriel’s expression turned cold.
“You believed the man who helped fake my daughter’s death?”
“I believed Teresa.”
That surprised him.
Cassandra explained.
Teresa recruited her four years earlier.
She told Cassandra the family needed someone close to Gabriel who could quietly prevent him from finding Sophie before Victor’s network had been dismantled.
At first, Cassandra believed she was protecting him.
Then Daniel offered her money and status.
“And you chose him,” Gabriel said.
Cassandra began crying.
“Yes.”
Gabriel nodded once.
“At least that answer is honest.”
Police and federal agents arrived minutes later.
Not local police.
A federal task force Isabella had secretly contacted months earlier.
Victor and Cassandra were taken into custody.
Daniel escaped the tower.
Again.
But now his accounts were frozen.
His identity was public.
His protection was collapsing.
Rachel’s only concern was Ben.
They found the children beneath the old DeLuca library exactly where Ben’s message said.
Caroline had discovered an underground passage when attackers reached the safe house.
Isabella hugged Sophie.
Rachel nearly crushed Ben.
“Mom,” he complained, “I can’t breathe.”
“Good.”
He laughed.
That sound fixed something inside her.
Later that night, Gabriel gathered everyone inside Blackthorn Farm.
No mansion.
No corporate tower.
No boardroom.
Just family and people who had somehow become part of it.
Gabriel.
Isabella.
Sophie.
Rachel.
Ben.
Caroline.
Lucia.
Marco.
Anthony.
Teresa arrived last.
Gabriel almost refused to let her inside.
Sophie stopped him.
“Daddy.”
Gabriel looked down.
“She lied to you.”
“I know.”
“She kept you from me.”
“I know.”
“You still want her here?”
Sophie nodded.
“She’s still Grandma.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
Children made forgiveness sound simple.
Adults knew it wasn’t.
But he opened the door.
Teresa entered.
She looked older than she had two days earlier.
She saw Sophie and began crying.
Sophie hugged her.
Gabriel looked away.
Isabella touched his arm.
He allowed it.
That itself was progress.
Teresa explained everything.
She had helped Sophie escape the bridge after Isabella’s vehicle crashed.
Victor’s men were minutes behind.
She took Sophie through Canada.
She planned to contact Gabriel once Isabella was safe.
Then Victor provided evidence showing someone inside Gabriel’s security network was compromised.
Because the account appeared linked to Marco, Teresa trusted no one.
“Why not Gabriel?” Rachel asked.
Teresa looked at her son.
“Because Gabriel would have gone to war immediately.”
Gabriel stared at his mother.
“You decided I was too emotional to know my child survived.”
“Yes.”
“Was I?”
“Yes.”
That answer startled everyone.
Gabriel almost smiled bitterly.
“At least you remain consistent.”
Teresa’s eyes filled.
“I thought I had months.”
“Seven years.”
“I know.”
“No. You know the number. You don’t know what those years were.”
She began crying.
“You’re right.”
Gabriel left the room.
Sophie followed.
Rachel remained with Lucia.
There was still one unfinished truth.
“My mother.”
Lucia looked at her.
“You mean me.”
Rachel swallowed.
“Yes.”
Neither knew how to begin.
Caroline quietly took Ben into another room.
Lucia sat.
“I watched you.”
“I know.”
“I attended your college graduation.”
Rachel stared.
“You were there?”
“Back row.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
“Because Victor still had people watching Caroline.”
“So you watched me raise Ben alone.”
Lucia flinched.
“Yes.”
Rachel stood.
“You knew Thomas died.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Mom supposedly died.”
“Yes.”
“And still nothing.”
Lucia’s eyes filled.
“I was afraid bringing myself into your life would kill you.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Everyone keeps protecting me by abandoning me.”
That sentence silenced the room.
Isabella began crying softly.
Lucia whispered, “I don’t expect forgiveness.”
“Good.”
Rachel left.
Outside, Gabriel sat on the porch.
Sophie leaned asleep against him.
He looked at Rachel.
“Bad conversation?”
“The family specialty.”
He nodded.
Rachel sat nearby.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Gabriel said:
“My father is alive.”
“Apparently.”
“My wife is alive.”
“Yes.”
“My daughter is alive.”
“Yes.”
“My half sister is alive.”
“Yes.”
“Your mother is alive.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
“I’m starting to feel personally offended by cemeteries.”
Rachel laughed.
He smiled.
Sophie stirred but did not wake.
For the first time since this began, quiet felt safe.
Then Marco came outside.
“We got a location.”
Gabriel stood.
“Daniel?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Marco looked uncomfortable.
“Alessandro.”
Gabriel went still.
“Sicily?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Lucia gave us the contact.”
Gabriel looked toward the house.
Of course.
Marco continued.
“Your father sent a message.”
Gabriel stared.
“What message?”
Marco handed him the phone.
One sentence:
BRING RACHEL AND SOPHIE.
NO ONE ELSE.
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
Rachel read it.
“Why me?”
Gabriel looked toward the sleeping child in his arms.
“I think we’re finally going to find out.”
Three days later, they landed in Sicily.
Gabriel.
Rachel.
Sophie.
Marco remained nearby despite instructions.
They drove into the hills outside Palermo.
An old stone estate overlooked vineyards and olive groves.
A man waited on the terrace.
Eighty-two years old.
White hair.
Cane.
But unmistakably Gabriel.
Older.
Gabriel stepped from the car.
For perhaps the first time in his life, he looked like a boy.
Alessandro DeLuca smiled sadly.
“Son.”
Gabriel stopped ten feet away.
“You’re eighteen years late.”
Alessandro lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
Sophie stood beside Gabriel.
The old man looked at her.
His face crumpled.
“Sofia.”
She hid slightly behind her father.
Gabriel placed a protective hand on her shoulder.
Alessandro understood.
Then he looked at Rachel.
Tears filled his eyes.
“Lucia’s little girl.”
Rachel said nothing.
Alessandro approached carefully.
“I have waited thirty-one years to meet you.”
Rachel’s voice was cold.
“You met me when I was six.”
He smiled faintly.
“You remember the medal.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
Then his expression turned serious.
“I asked you here because Victor lied about one final thing.”
Gabriel crossed his arms.
“I’m shocked.”
Alessandro did not smile.
“The trust was never created merely to control money.”
Rachel waited.
“It contains evidence.”
“Of what?”
“Every murder. Every bribe. Every judge. Every politician. Every company.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
Alessandro continued.
“Victor never needed Rachel’s signature to take the companies.”
“Then why?”
“Because Rachel is the key.”
Rachel frowned.
“To what?”
Alessandro looked at her.
“Your mother placed the original evidence somewhere only you could open.”
“I was a baby.”
“Not Lucia.”
Rachel stared.
“Who?”
Alessandro whispered:
“Thomas Bennett.”
Rachel’s heart tightened.
Her father.
The man everyone kept reducing to a false name on a birth certificate had apparently carried the most important secret of all.
Alessandro continued.
“Before he died, Thomas sent me one message.”
“What did it say?”
Alessandro looked directly at Rachel.
“Tell Rachel the truth is inside the song her father taught her.”
Rachel froze.
There was only one song Thomas Bennett had taught her.
May you like
The same melody she had hummed for Gabriel.
The melody inside Sophie’s music box.
