Chapter 3 - THE SECOND DE-LUCA DAUGHTER
Rachel thought she had misheard him.
She actually waited for Walter to correct himself.
He didn’t.
“Gabriel DeLuca?” she whispered.
Roman slowly turned toward the older man.
“My father had no brother named Gabriel.”
Walter lowered himself into the chair.
“No.”
His breathing remained weak.
“He had a son.”
Roman’s face changed.
Rachel stared from one man to the other.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Walter nodded toward the envelope.
“You deserve to hear it from the people who created this mess.”
The pounding above them grew louder.
Roman glanced toward the narrow stairwell.
“Marco can hold the chapel.”
“You don’t know who is up there,” Rachel said.
“I know Marco.”
That apparently answered the question for him.
Rachel looked down at the envelope.
FOR RACHEL MONROE ONLY.
Her hands shook.
Roman noticed.
“You don’t have to open it tonight.”
She almost laughed.
“My father may be inside your house, people are shooting upstairs, and an eighteen-year-old vault just recognized my fingerprint.”
She tore the envelope open.
“I think tonight already passed normal.”
Inside was a small memory card and a handwritten note.
Rachel recognized the handwriting immediately.
Her mother’s.
Rachel, if you are reading this, then the truth we tried to bury has found you anyway. I am sorry.
Her vision blurred.
“My mother knew.”
Walter said nothing.
Rachel read further.
Your father loved you. Whatever anyone tells you after this, remember that first.
She stopped.
For twenty years Rachel had believed the opposite.
The pain was so sudden she had to sit down.
Roman remained beside her but did not touch her.
That somehow made it easier.
He allowed her to choose the distance.
Rachel inserted the memory card into the recorder.
The small monitor flickered.
A date appeared.
October 14.
Eighteen years earlier.
Then a man appeared on-screen.
Rachel forgot how to breathe.
He looked perhaps thirty-five.
Dark hair.
Lean face.
Gray eyes.
Her eyes.
Beside him sat Roman’s father, Antonio DeLuca.
Rachel had seen photographs of Antonio throughout the mansion.
The resemblance between father and son was unmistakable.
But the man beside Antonio—
Gabriel—
looked enough like Rachel that something inside her recognized him before her mind could.
He stared directly into the camera.
“If Rachel ever sees this,” he began, “then I failed.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
Gabriel continued.
“Her legal name is Rachel Monroe. Keep it that way.”
Antonio leaned forward.
“My son Roman must not be told about Gabriel until he controls the family.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
Rachel glanced at him.
“You knew nothing?”
“Nothing.”
The recording continued.
Gabriel explained that he was not Antonio’s biological son.
He was the son of Antonio’s first love, adopted privately after her death.
Very few people knew.
Vincent knew.
Walter knew.
Roman’s mother knew.
No one else was supposed to.
Gabriel had grown up inside the DeLuca organization but had refused its criminal operations. Instead, he became an accountant and security architect.
Then he discovered Vincent had been stealing from the family.
Not thousands.
Millions.
Using charities, construction companies, political donations, and shell corporations.
Antonio planned to expose him.
Gabriel built the second vault to store the evidence.
But there was something worse.
Antonio looked into the camera.
“Vincent has partners.”
Roman leaned closer.
“Names?”
On-screen, Antonio continued.
“One of them is inside law enforcement. One inside our legal team. One within the Foundation.”
The picture suddenly distorted.
Then Gabriel said something Rachel would remember forever.
“If Antonio dies tonight, it was not his heart.”
Roman froze.
His father’s official cause of death had been cardiac arrest.
Gabriel looked down.
“And if I disappear, do not look for my body.”
Rachel whispered, “Why?”
The recording answered her.
“Because disappearing may be the only way I can keep Rachel alive.”
The screen went black.
Rachel stared at it.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Roman finally asked Walter, “What happened that night?”
Walter closed his eyes.
“Antonio confronted Vincent.”
“And?”
“Three hours later, Antonio was dead.”
Roman’s voice went quieter.
“You let me believe it was natural.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“For eighteen years?”
“You were twenty-three years old and angry enough to burn Chicago down if I told you someone murdered your father.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
Walter looked at him.
“Tell me I was wrong.”
Roman did not answer.
Rachel held her mother’s note.
“Where did Gabriel go?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said he was here.”
“I said I believed he was.”
“You told Roman he was my father.”
“Because only Gabriel’s identity profile could activate the system like that.”
Rachel stood.
“Then find him.”
Roman spoke quietly.
“We will.”
A sudden explosion shook dust from the ceiling.
The vault lights flickered.
Marco’s voice came through the radio.
“Boss, move now.”
Roman answered.
“What happened?”
“Fire in the chapel corridor.”
Walter cursed softly.
Roman looked around the vault.
“What do they want destroyed?”
“The records,” Walter said.
Rachel looked at the desk.
There was nothing else.
Walter pointed beneath it.
Roman pulled open a hidden drawer.
Inside were twelve red folders.
Each labeled with a year.
The oldest dated twenty-one years earlier.
Roman grabbed them.
Rachel noticed something else.
A photograph.
She pulled it free.
Her mother stood beside Gabriel in front of a small house.
Rachel was perhaps two years old between them.
Her mother looked happy.
Gabriel was holding Rachel.
On the back someone had written:
OUR FAMILY, BEFORE THE WORLD FOUND US.
Rachel’s throat closed.
Roman saw it.
For a moment the ruthless Mafia Boss disappeared.
He simply looked at a woman discovering that half her childhood had been built on a lie.
“Take it,” he said.
The escape tunnel behind the vault led into the mansion’s greenhouse.
Roman moved first.
Rachel followed Walter.
Marco met them halfway.
Blood darkened one sleeve of his suit.
Rachel stared.
“You’re hurt.”
“Scratch.”
“That’s not a scratch.”
“I’ve had worse haircuts.”
Roman looked at him.
“Who attacked?”
“Three men. Professional.”
“Recognize them?”
“No.”
Marco hesitated.
“One escaped.”
Roman’s face became cold.
“What about Cassandra and Vincent?”
Marco said, “Cassandra’s gone.”
Roman stopped.
“What?”
“The guard outside the sitting room was unconscious. Window open.”
“Vincent?”
“Still secured.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Rachel understood.
If Cassandra and Vincent were partners, why escape without him?
Unless—
“She didn’t trust Vincent either,” Rachel said.
Roman looked at her.
Walter nodded.
“Cassandra never trusted anyone.”
They reached the greenhouse.
Tyler was waiting with two guards.
Rachel ran to him.
“You’re okay.”
“I’m surrounded by men carrying guns, but sure.”
Then Tyler noticed the photograph in Rachel’s hand.
“Who’s that?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Our father.”
Tyler stared.
“What?”
Rachel had forgotten something.
Tyler was her half brother.
Their mother married Tyler’s father years after Gabriel disappeared.
But Tyler had grown up hearing the same story Rachel had.
That Rachel’s father abandoned them.
Tyler examined the picture.
“You found him?”
“Maybe.”
A noise came from the far end of the greenhouse.
Every guard raised a weapon.
Roman stepped in front of Rachel and Tyler.
“Show yourself.”
Silence.
Then an older man stepped from behind a row of lemon trees.
He wore maintenance coveralls.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
And Rachel’s eyes.
Rachel’s knees almost failed.
The man raised both hands.
Roman’s weapon remained trained on him.
“Name.”
The stranger looked at Rachel.
Tears filled his eyes.
“Gabriel.”
Rachel could not move.
He took one step.
“Rachel.”
She stepped backward.
“No.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I know.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know every birthday I missed.”
“Then where were you?”
“Keeping you alive.”
“That’s what everybody keeps saying.”
Her voice cracked.
“And somehow I’m the only person who never got a choice.”
Gabriel looked devastated.
Roman lowered his gun slightly.
“Why did you enter the first vault?”
“To draw Cassandra away from the real one.”
“You knew she was here?”
“I’ve been watching her for eight months.”
Roman’s gaze sharpened.
“You’ve been watching my house?”
“I put Rachel in it.”
Rachel stared at him.
“What?”
Gabriel’s face changed.
The words had escaped before he intended them to.
Roman stepped closer.
“You arranged her employment?”
Gabriel nodded.
Rachel felt sick.
The job application.
The unexpected interview.
The unusually generous salary.
Everything.
“You’ve been controlling my life?”
“No.”
“You put me inside a Mafia Boss’s house!”
“I put you near the only person powerful enough to survive what was coming.”
Roman’s expression gave nothing away.
“What was coming?”
Gabriel looked at the red folders.
“Vincent’s final move.”
Roman asked, “Which is?”
Gabriel’s eyes settled on him.
“To take the DeLuca organization from you without firing a single bullet.”
“How?”
“By proving you’re illegitimate.”
Roman laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“My DNA disagrees.”
“Not that kind of illegitimate.”
Gabriel looked toward the mansion.
“Legally.”
Walter suddenly understood.
“The succession charter.”
Gabriel nodded.
Rachel asked, “What succession charter?”
Walter answered.
“Antonio created a legal trust controlling nearly seventy percent of the legitimate DeLuca holdings.”
Roman stared at Gabriel.
“And Vincent found a way to challenge it.”
“He found more than that.”
Gabriel reached inside his coveralls.
Roman raised the gun again.
Gabriel slowly removed a folded document.
“He found the original amendment.”
Roman read the first page.
His expression changed.
Rachel moved closer.
“What?”
Roman handed it to Walter.
Walter’s face turned white.
“No.”
Gabriel looked at Rachel.
“Under Antonio’s trust, if Roman is proven responsible for the death or unlawful confinement of a DeLuca family member, control transfers to the next eligible trustee.”
Rachel understood slowly.
“Vincent.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“No.”
He looked directly at her.
“You.”
Rachel laughed from sheer disbelief.
“Me?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Because under the trust, I was Antonio’s legally adopted son.”
The greenhouse became silent.
“And you,” Gabriel said, “are my daughter.”
Roman looked down at the documents.
Then toward the mansion.
“They locked Walter beneath my house.”
Gabriel nodded.
“To make it look like Roman ordered it.”
Walter’s voice hardened.
“And Cassandra was going to produce the evidence after the wedding.”
Gabriel looked at Roman.
“She wasn’t marrying you for access to the vault.”
Roman’s eyes darkened.
“She was marrying me so she could testify against me as my wife.”
Before anyone could respond, a guard rushed into the greenhouse.
“Boss.”
Roman turned.
“What?”
“We opened Vincent’s room.”
“And?”
The guard looked uneasy.
“He’s gone.”
Roman’s expression became lethal.
“How?”
“We don’t know.”
Then the guard held up a phone.
“But he left this playing on the bed.”
Roman took it.
A video filled the screen.
Cassandra sat in a dark room.
Beside her was Rachel’s brother Tyler.
Rachel spun around.
The Tyler beside her looked equally confused.
Then Gabriel whispered:
“That video isn’t live.”
Cassandra spoke from the recording.
“Roman, if you’re watching this, Gabriel found Rachel before I did.”
She smiled.
“But I found someone else.”
The camera moved.
A woman sat tied to a chair.
Older.
Terrified.
Rachel stopped breathing.
“Mom?”
Her mother looked into the camera.
Cassandra’s voice came again.
“Bring Rachel and the brass key to the old DeLuca hotel tomorrow at noon.”
May you like
A pause.
“Or Rachel finally gets to lose a parent for real.”
