Chapter 6 - THE SON ANTHONY STOLE
Dominic laughed.
It was a single, empty sound.
Rebecca Sloan flinched.
“Try again.”
“I’m telling you what Anthony told me.”
“That doesn’t make it true.”
“No.”
Rebecca’s voice softened.
“But it explains why he raised you.”
Dominic stepped closer.
Camila caught his wrist.
Not because she feared he would hurt Rebecca.
Because she could feel him disappearing behind the coldest part of himself.
“Dominic.”
His eyes shifted toward her.
She held on.
Rebecca continued.
“Anthony said Sofia Moretti had an affair with him while she was married to Carlo.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“My mother hated Anthony.”
“Maybe later.”
“Convenient story.”
“There’s a test.”
Everyone stopped.
“What test?” Camila asked.
Rebecca looked at Dominic.
“Anthony keeps it in a safe.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Dominic released a slow breath.
“What does any of this have to do with the trust?”
“If you’re Anthony’s biological son, he believed he could argue that control transferred through him to you.”
Dominic frowned.
“That isn’t how the trust works.”
“No. But Anthony didn’t need the court to agree forever. He needed enough uncertainty to freeze the holdings while Vincent took operational control.”
Camila saw it.
A succession fight.
Dominic compromised.
Vincent positioned as the stable alternative.
Anthony holding forged records.
The Moretti businesses could be torn apart before anyone proved the truth.
“Why target Camila?” Dominic asked.
“Because she had Carlo’s trust instrument.”
“She didn’t know that.”
“Anthony did.”
“How?”
Rebecca looked down.
“Elena told him.”
Camila stared.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“She called Anthony six months ago.”
Camila felt her stomach tighten.
“What did she say?”
“I wasn’t there. He told me Elena finally wanted to make a deal.”
“For what?”
“Your safety.”
Camila stood.
“That makes no sense.”
Rebecca looked at her with something almost like pity.
“Maybe not from where you’re standing.”
Dominic’s phone rang.
The secure medical team.
Walter had survived surgery.
Stable.
Dominic immediately ordered two trusted men to protect him.
Then another call arrived.
This time from Vincent.
Dominic stared at the screen before answering.
“Where are you?”
Vincent’s voice came through clearly.
“Not where Anthony thinks.”
Dominic put the call on speaker.
Camila leaned close.
“Vincent,” she said.
A pause.
“Camila. You okay?”
“Someone shot Walter Greene and stole half the trust key.”
“I know.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“How?”
“Because I took it.”
Silence.
Camila gripped the table.
Dominic spoke slowly.
“Why?”
“To stop Anthony from getting it.”
“You could have asked.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he has someone inside your security team.”
Dominic’s eyes shifted toward the hallway.
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Then why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
Vincent sounded tired.
“But you should trust what I send next.”
A message arrived.
Photograph.
Anthony Moretti entering a warehouse.
Beside him walked the woman from Dominic’s house.
Elena Bennett.
Camila’s mother.
Timestamp: twelve minutes ago.
Location coordinates included.
Camila stared.
“She’s with him.”
Vincent replied:
“Doesn’t mean willingly.”
Dominic asked:
“Where are you?”
“Close.”
“Stay there.”
“No.”
“Vincent.”
“If Anthony sees your people, he’ll move her.”
Camila spoke.
“Is my mother in danger?”
Vincent paused.
“Yes.”
The call ended.
Dominic immediately began issuing orders.
Camila grabbed her coat.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“You’re not coming.”
“She’s my mother.”
“She may be working with Anthony.”
“Then I need to hear that from her.”
“Camila.”
“Dominic.”
They stared at each other.
He knew he would lose.
He hated losing.
Especially when her safety was involved.
“You stay behind me.”
“I usually do.”
“That was not a joke.”
“It was a little bit of a joke.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
The warehouse sat beside the river in an industrial district.
Dominic used only four men.
Two entered from the east.
One secured the rear.
Dominic and Camila approached through an office corridor.
Voices came from inside.
Anthony.
Elena.
Camila froze at the sound of her mother.
Not recording.
Not memory.
Alive.
“You promised she wouldn’t be hurt,” Elena said.
Anthony answered.
“She wasn’t.”
“You had a guard drag her across a hotel lobby.”
“A bruise is not an injury.”
Dominic’s face became lethal.
Camila squeezed his hand once.
Not yet.
Elena continued.
“You used her to find the keys.”
“I used Dominic.”
“You used both of them.”
“And it worked.”
Camila’s chest tightened.
Her mother had known.
Anthony said:
“You should be grateful. They found each other.”
“That was never part of the agreement.”
“No. That was amusing.”
Dominic’s eyes closed briefly.
Camila felt his anger like heat.
Anthony continued.
“You told me where Carlo hid his instrument.”
“I told you because you said you would stop watching Camila.”
“And I did.”
“You arranged her meeting with Dominic.”
“I arranged a conference invitation.”
“You knew exactly what would happen.”
“I suspected.”
Elena’s voice shook.
“They love each other.”
“Yes.”
“Then leave them alone.”
“Too late.”
Camila stepped into the room.
“Apparently.”
Elena turned.
For thirteen years, Camila had imagined impossible things.
Her mother walking through a grocery store.
Calling on Christmas.
Knocking at her apartment door.
Nothing matched the reality.
Elena looked older.
More fragile.
But alive.
“Camila.”
Camila didn’t move.
Her mother took one step.
“Don’t.”
Elena stopped.
The pain on her face was immediate.
Anthony sat calmly at a metal table.
Seventy now.
Silver-haired.
Immaculate suit.
He looked almost grandfatherly.
That made Camila hate him more.
Dominic entered behind her.
“Uncle.”
Anthony smiled.
“There he is.”
Dominic looked around.
“Where’s Vincent?”
Anthony’s smile disappeared slightly.
“Disappointing boy.”
“He says the same about you.”
Anthony looked at Camila.
“You married well.”
“Did you arrange that too?”
“I opened a door.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you need.”
Camila turned to her mother.
“Did you tell him about the bracelet?”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He found me.”
“You should have called me.”
“I was protecting you.”
“You disappeared from my life.”
“I know.”
“You let me bury another woman.”
Elena flinched.
“I know.”
“You watched me mourn you.”
“I know.”
Camila’s voice broke.
“Stop saying you know.”
Silence.
Elena’s tears came.
“I was afraid.”
For the first time, Camila believed her.
Not enough to forgive.
Enough to listen.
Anthony stood.
Dominic immediately stepped between him and Camila.
Anthony noticed.
“You really do love her.”
Dominic’s voice was flat.
“That surprises you?”
“It complicates things.”
“For you.”
Anthony smiled.
“We’ll see.”
The warehouse lights suddenly shut off.
Dominic moved.
Camila felt his arm around her.
A crash sounded from the rear.
Then shouting.
Gunfire.
One shot.
Two.
Elena screamed.
Emergency lights flashed.
Anthony was gone.
Dominic’s men secured the exits.
Vincent emerged from the shadows holding a gun.
Dominic raised his.
“Put it down.”
Vincent obeyed immediately.
“I was following Anthony.”
“You shot Walter.”
“No.”
“You said you took the key.”
“I took it after the shooter dropped it in the service corridor.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“Where is it?”
Vincent reached slowly into his coat.
A metal strip.
Michael’s half.
He placed it on the floor.
Then kicked it toward Dominic.
“If I wanted Anthony to have it, he’d have it.”
Camila looked toward Elena.
Her mother was staring at Vincent.
Not with fear.
Recognition.
“You,” Elena whispered.
Vincent turned.
“What?”
Elena’s face went white.
“I saw you when you were a baby.”
Anthony’s second son.
Dominic stared.
Vincent frowned.
“You knew my father.”
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
Then she looked at Dominic.
“Anthony lied.”
Dominic went still.
“About what?”
“Your paternity.”
Elena stepped closer.
“You are Carlo’s son.”
Dominic’s expression didn’t change.
But Camila felt his hand tighten.
Elena pointed at Vincent.
“He isn’t Anthony’s son either.”
Vincent laughed in disbelief.
“What are you talking about?”
Elena looked between both men.
“Anthony never had sons.”
Silence.
Dominic spoke first.
“Then whose son is Vincent?”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Carlo’s.”
Vincent stopped breathing.
Dominic stared.
Elena continued:
“You’re brothers.”
Before anyone could process it, Camila’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Anthony’s voice.
“Now you understand why Carlo’s trust required two heirs.”
Camila’s blood turned cold.
Dominic took the phone.
“What do you want?”
Anthony laughed softly.
“The same thing I’ve wanted for thirty years.”
“What?”
“Your father’s company.”
A pause.
“And this time, Dominic, I’m not stealing it.”
In the distance, an engine started.
Anthony added:
“I’m inheriting it.”
Then every phone in the warehouse received the same breaking-news alert.
MORETTI HOSPITALITY CEO DOMINIC MORETTI UNDER FEDERAL INVESTIGATION FOR FINANCIAL FRAUD.
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And beneath the headline was a photograph of Dominic being named beside one other person.
Camila.
