Chapter 3 - ISABELLA’S FIRST SON
Elena stared at Thomas.
“No.”
The word came out quietly.
Not disbelief.
Refusal.
“My father’s fifty-two.”
Thomas nodded.
“Isabella was seventeen when she had him.”
“No.”
“Elena—”
“My father told me his mother was Rose.”
“Because Rose raised him.”
Elena backed away.
“You don’t get to walk into this house after fifty years and rewrite my family.”
Thomas accepted the anger.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her voice rose.
“My father is in a hospital bed wondering whether he can afford treatment. You knew he existed all these years?”
Thomas lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
“And you stayed away?”
“Yes.”
Elena slapped him.
The sound echoed through the music room.
Nobody moved.
Thomas touched his cheek.
Adrien said nothing.
Elena’s eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Thomas looked at her.
“I deserved worse.”
Adrien turned toward Daniel.
“Bring the car.”
Elena looked at him.
“Why?”
“We’re going to your father.”
Thomas stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No,” Elena said immediately.
“Elena—”
“No.”
She picked up her coat.
“You’ve had fifty-two years. He gets to decide whether he wants to see you.”
That silenced Thomas.
Vivian stepped forward.
“What about the song?”
Adrien folded the fourth page.
“It comes with us.”
Vivian looked frightened again.
“Adrien, listen to me. If Gabriel remembers the ending—”
“He deserves to know his family before he dies.”
Elena flinched.
Adrien realized what he had said.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked away.
“He’s not dying.”
Adrien nodded once.
“No. He isn’t.”
They left Thomas behind.
Vivian followed.
Adrien stopped her at the staircase.
“Not you.”
Her face fell.
“You still think I’m the enemy.”
“I think you offered Elena money to disappear and lied about her stealing from you.”
“I was trying to stop this.”
“That isn’t a defense.”
“No.”
For once, Vivian didn’t argue.
“I know.”
Adrien walked away.
At Newport Hospital, Gabriel Moretti looked smaller than Elena remembered from that morning.
He was awake.
His gray beard had grown unevenly.
A hospital blanket covered his legs.
When Elena entered, his eyes immediately went to the violin case.
Then Adrien.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“So it happened.”
Elena stopped beside his bed.
“You knew.”
He looked at his daughter.
“I knew someday it might.”
“You lied to me about your mother.”
His expression changed.
Elena placed the photograph on his blanket.
“Thomas Moretti is alive.”
Gabriel stared at it.
His hand began trembling.
“He came to the house.”
Gabriel looked toward the door.
“Is he here?”
“No.”
Relief passed over his face.
That hurt Elena more than anger would have.
“You don’t want to see him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked at Adrien.
“Because some fathers lose the right to be called fathers.”
Adrien understood that sentence more than he wanted to.
He pulled a chair closer.
“Was Isabella your mother?”
Gabriel studied him.
“Yes.”
Adrien’s face remained controlled.
That meant Gabriel was his half brother.
And Elena—
His niece.
The maid who had spent eleven months quietly cleaning his home was family.
Elena sat down.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Isabella made me promise.”
“She was supposedly dead before I was born.”
“She wasn’t dead.”
Adrien leaned forward.
“You saw her afterward.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Twice.”
The room went silent.
“When?” Adrien asked.
“1989. Then again in 1994.”
Adrien stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor.
“You saw my mother eight years after she left me?”
Gabriel’s eyes filled with regret.
“She wanted to come back.”
“But she didn’t.”
“She couldn’t.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”
Adrien’s voice hardened.
“What exactly was stopping her?”
Gabriel reached toward his bedside drawer.
Inside was a silver pocket watch.
He handed it to Adrien.
Adrien recognized the initials.
I.V.
“My mother’s.”
“She gave it to me in 1994.”
Adrien opened it.
The hands had stopped at 11:17.
Inside the lid was a tiny photograph.
Sixteen-year-old Adrien.
He looked away.
Gabriel spoke quietly.
“She carried your picture every day.”
“Pictures are easy.”
Gabriel winced.
“Staying is harder.”
Adrien closed the watch.
“Why didn’t she come home?”
“Because Conrad threatened you.”
Adrien turned.
Gabriel continued.
“He told her that if she appeared publicly, you would pay for it.”
“My father threatened his own son?”
“Conrad believed fear was love when it protected what belonged to him.”
Adrien almost laughed.
That sounded exactly like Conrad Vale.
Elena touched her father’s hand.
“What happened in 1986?”
Gabriel stared at the ceiling.
“Isabella discovered Conrad had been using her conservatory for laundering money. Richard Cross helped her copy the records. Thomas was supposed to take her somewhere safe.”
“But Thomas betrayed her,” Elena said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He thought Conrad would forgive her.”
Adrien’s expression hardened.
“He didn’t.”
“No.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“But Conrad didn’t arrange the boat explosion either.”
Adrien froze.
“Thomas said—”
“Thomas assumed.”
“Who did it?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Adrien studied him.
Gabriel was hiding something.
Elena saw it too.
“Dad.”
“I don’t know who ordered it.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Gabriel looked at her.
She had inherited that stare from him.
“I asked what happened.”
Gabriel sighed.
“Isabella was never on the boat.”
Adrien’s eyes narrowed.
“She staged her disappearance?”
“Yes.”
Another reversal.
Another piece of the childhood Adrien remembered breaking apart.
“She abandoned me voluntarily.”
“No.”
Gabriel’s voice became stronger.
“She was coming back for you that same night.”
Adrien stopped.
“What?”
“She arranged the explosion to make Conrad think she was dead. Richard was supposed to bring you to her afterward.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked away.
“Because someone discovered the plan.”
Elena felt her father’s hand tighten.
“Who?”
“I never knew.”
Adrien placed the pocket watch on the blanket.
“What does the final movement reveal?”
Gabriel stared at it.
“Enough to destroy Conrad’s legacy.”
“He’s dead.”
“Legacies aren’t.”
Gabriel looked toward Adrien.
“Neither are the people who inherited them.”
Adrien understood.
Companies.
Partners.
Families.
Fortunes.
The Vale empire had survived Conrad.
Gabriel reached for the violin.
“Play the fourth page.”
Elena hesitated.
Then positioned the instrument.
She played.
The final movement was darker than the beginning.
Beautiful.
Restless.
When she reached the written ending, she continued with the three bars Gabriel had taught her.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
Adrien listened.
Three bars.
Nine notes.
Then Gabriel whispered numbers.
“Eleven. Seventeen. Four. Six.”
Adrien looked at the stopped watch.
11:17.
Gabriel pointed toward the photograph inside.
“Take it out.”
Adrien carefully lifted the photograph.
Behind it was a tiny brass key.
Elena stared.
Gabriel smiled weakly.
“Your mother loved puzzles.”
Adrien held up the key.
“What does it open?”
Gabriel’s expression changed.
“A locker at the old Newport Conservatory.”
Adrien stood.
Gabriel grabbed his wrist.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“If it’s still there, you’re going to find something Isabella never wanted Conrad to see.”
“The financial records?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Something worse.”
Adrien stared at him.
“What could be worse?”
Gabriel looked toward Elena.
May you like
Then back at Adrien.
“The letter explaining why Isabella chose Gabriel over you the night she disappeared.”
