Chapter 8 - THE MAN WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
The restaurant had been closed for twenty years.
Its old sign still hung above the door.
ROSSI’S.
My mother’s family name.
My hands trembled when I touched the handle.
Victor stopped me.
“I go first.”
“No.”
“Hannah.”
“My father is inside.”
“If it is your father.”
I looked at him.
He was right.
I hated that.
Gabriel entered through the rear.
Victor and I went through the front.
The room smelled like dust.
Two men sat at a table beneath an old photograph of Little Italy.
One was Daniel.
The other was elderly.
White hair.
Lean face.
A scar across his forehead.
But I knew him.
Not from memory.
From my own face.
My nose.
My eyes.
My smile.
Thomas Reed stood.
“Hannah.”
I couldn’t move.
He took one step.
I backed away.
Pain crossed his face.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
My voice shook.
“You died.”
“I know.”
“I buried you.”
“I know.”
“I was three!”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to say that!”
I hit him.
Once.
Twice.
He didn’t stop me.
Then I collapsed against him.
I hated myself for hugging him.
But he was my father.
And some part of me was still three years old.
He held me.
“I’m sorry.”
I cried.
Behind us, Victor looked away.
Daniel remained seated.
I finally pulled back.
“Why is he here?”
Daniel stood.
He looked almost exactly as I remembered.
Except tired.
“Because I’ve been trying to protect Lily.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You have an interesting way of showing it.”
“I didn’t know she existed until six months ago.”
“You disappeared.”
“I was forced to.”
“Convenient.”
“It’s true.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Explain.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Anthony learned Hannah was pregnant.”
My father nodded.
“He ordered Daniel back.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew the child might eventually inherit the Rossi trust.”
I stared.
“How would he know Lily was Daniel’s?”
Daniel’s expression tightened.
“Because he planned the fundraiser.”
My skin went cold.
“The night we met?”
“Yes.”
“Did you drug me?”
“No.”
“Did you touch me when I couldn’t consent?”
Daniel’s face went pale.
“No.”
Victor’s eyes became lethal.
Daniel held up both hands.
“Hannah, you and I spent the night together. You were sober by then. The champagne had been switched before you drank it, but I stopped you after one sip. You fainted from an interaction with medication.”
Memory flickered.
The medical room.
Daniel beside me.
Later, dinner.
Walking through Central Park.
His apartment.
A kiss.
Morning.
I had buried the memory because Michael later convinced me it had been a dream.
I looked at him.
“Why don’t I remember?”
Thomas answered.
“Michael.”
My stomach turned.
“He manipulated you for months.”
Daniel nodded.
“He convinced you the night never happened.”
“Why?”
“To hide Lily’s paternity.”
I wanted to be sick.
Daniel stepped closer.
“I tried to contact you.”
“No.”
“Michael intercepted everything.”
Victor looked at Thomas.
“Where is Anthony?”
Thomas’s face hardened.
“Running the game from inside Dominic’s organization.”
“Dominic knows?”
“No.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“My father—Dominic, the man who raised me—thinks Anthony died twenty years ago.”
“Why would Dominic raise Anthony’s son?” Gabriel asked from the rear doorway.
Everyone turned.
Daniel looked at him.
“Because Anthony gave me to him as payment.”
Gabriel stared.
“What?”
Thomas explained.
Anthony had two sons.
Gabriel with Elena.
Daniel with a Valenti woman.
He used both bloodlines to create leverage.
Victor whispered.
“He planned everything.”
Thomas nodded.
“For thirty years.”
“Why?”
“Because your father refused to acknowledge him.”
Victor’s expression darkened.
“So he decided to destroy every heir.”
“No.”
Thomas looked toward Lily’s photograph on my phone.
“He decided to own them.”
A car pulled up outside.
Victor’s men moved.
Dominic Valenti entered.
Alone.
Daniel went rigid.
“Dad.”
Dominic looked at him.
“You shame me.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“You lied to me my entire life.”
Dominic’s eyes moved toward Thomas.
“You should have stayed dead.”
Victor raised his weapon.
Dominic smiled.
“If I wanted war, Victor, fifty men would be outside.”
“Why are you here?”
“To kill Anthony Moretti.”
Silence.
Dominic continued.
“He took my wife.”
Daniel froze.
“What?”
Dominic looked at him.
“Your mother loved him.”
Daniel’s face twisted.
“She died giving birth to me.”
“No.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“That’s what Anthony wanted you to believe.”
Another lie.
Always another lie.
“Where is she?” Daniel whispered.
“Dead now.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“Anthony killed her when she tried to take you back.”
Daniel sat.
Thomas looked unsurprised.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
Daniel turned on him.
“You knew?”
“I had no proof.”
Dominic placed a folder on the table.
Inside were bank transfers.
Photos.
Names.
Margaret.
Michael.
Anthony.
The attack.
The kidnapping.
Everything connected.
“He is preparing to leave the country,” Dominic said.
Victor frowned.
“Where?”
“Tonight. Private airfield in Westchester.”
“Why tell us?”
Dominic looked at Daniel.
“Because I have spent thirty-three years raising another man’s son.”
Daniel looked away.
“And because Anthony intends to take Lily with him.”
My heart stopped.
“She’s secure.”
Dominic smiled sadly.
“No place is secure from the man who designed it.”
Victor grabbed his phone.
No answer from the safe house.
Again.
Nothing.
My blood froze.
We ran outside.
Ten minutes later, Victor’s security feed came online.
The safe apartment was empty.
Guards unconscious.
No Lily.
Again.
I screamed.
Daniel caught me before I fell.
Dominic looked at the screen.
A message appeared.
Westchester Airfield.
Bring all three heirs.
Gabriel.
Hannah.
Daniel.
My father whispered.
“He wants the bloodline together.”
Victor looked at me.
“We end this tonight.”
I wiped my tears.
“No.”
Everyone stared.
I stood.
“We don’t end anything.”
May you like
My voice was cold.
“We bring my daughter home.”
