Chapter 10 - THE FATHER IN THE CELLAR
His name was Samuel Morgan.
He was sixty-three years old.
And according to Ava, he had died fourteen years earlier.
At this point, death certificates had become increasingly unreliable in my life.
Damian returned from Arizona with Mateo, Samuel, and six security men just before sunrise the next day.
Anthony did not return.
He had escaped through another tunnel beneath the property.
I was beginning to hate tunnels.
Mateo entered the mansion holding Damian’s hand.
He was six.
Small for his age.
Silent.
His face resembled Bianca so strongly that my chest hurt.
Damian crouched beside him.
“This is Elena.”
Mateo looked at me carefully.
“Your aunt,” Damian added.
The word felt strange.
But right.
I knelt.
“Hi, Mateo.”
He stared at my necklace.
The moon.
Then he reached beneath his shirt.
He wore a silver sun.
Three pieces.
Moon.
Star.
Sun.
I covered my mouth.
“Bianca gave you that?”
He nodded.
“She said family finds family.”
I started crying.
Mateo looked alarmed.
“I’m okay.”
I hugged him carefully.
After several seconds, he hugged me back.
Then Leah appeared at the staircase.
Rosa held her hand.
Mateo froze.
Leah froze.
They stared at each other.
Then Mateo whispered:
“Sofia.”
Leah smiled.
“Mato.”
Damian and I looked at each other.
They remembered each other.
From before Bianca died.
The children ran together.
Mateo hugged Leah.
That sight nearly destroyed Damian.
He turned away.
I let him.
Some grief needed privacy.
Samuel Morgan waited in the library.
He looked nothing like me.
At least not immediately.
Tall.
Gray-haired.
Deep-set eyes.
But when he smiled sadly, I saw something familiar.
My own expression.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I did not sit.
“That sentence is becoming very popular.”
“I deserve that.”
“Are you my father?”
“Yes.”
“Prove it.”
“We will.”
“Good.”
I crossed my arms.
“Until then, start talking.”
Samuel nodded.
“Your mother, Maria Russo, worked at a hotel owned by Vittorio Caruso.”
“I know part of that story.”
“She did have a relationship with Vittorio.”
“So everyone assumed he was my father.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“She ended it.”
“Why?”
“Because she discovered he was married.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That apparently wasn’t obvious?”
“Vittorio lived separate lives.”
Samuel continued.
“I met Maria six months later.”
“You worked for Vittorio too?”
“I was a federal investigator.”
The room went silent.
Gabriel leaned forward.
“Agency?”
Samuel named one.
Gabriel looked impressed despite himself.
“You were undercover.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Seven years.”
Samuel turned back toward me.
“Your mother became pregnant with you during my assignment.”
“Did Vittorio think I was his?”
“No.”
“Then why did he put me in the trust?”
“Because of guilt.”
I stared.
“Explain.”
“Vittorio discovered Maria was pregnant. He believed she might expose his crimes. He ordered someone to frighten her.”
My stomach tightened.
“Salvatore?”
Samuel nodded.
“Salvatore attacked her.”
My hands went cold.
“She survived.”
“Yes.”
“You knew?”
“I found her afterward.”
“Then why didn’t you arrest them?”
“We were building a larger case.”
I laughed.
“There it is.”
Samuel lowered his eyes.
“I chose the investigation over protecting her immediately.”
“Did she forgive you?”
“No.”
Good.
At least my mother had sense.
“She left Europe.”
Samuel continued.
“Michael Russo was a childhood friend. He married her. Raised you.”
“Where were you?”
“Undercover.”
“For twelve more years?”
“No.”
His face changed.
“I was captured.”
The room grew quiet.
“By Salvatore?”
“Yes.”
“He knew you were federal?”
“Eventually.”
“What happened?”
“Vittorio discovered Salvatore had been running operations behind his back. Illegal adoptions. Trafficking identities. Blackmail.”
“St. Catherine’s.”
“Yes.”
“Vittorio helped?”
“At first he ignored it.”
“That’s helping.”
Samuel nodded.
“You’re right.”
“What changed?”
“Children started disappearing permanently.”
My stomach turned.
“Vittorio confronted Salvatore.”
“And Salvatore took you?”
“As leverage.”
“Why keep you alive?”
“Because I knew where evidence was stored.”
“The trust.”
“Yes.”
Samuel continued.
“Vittorio eventually helped me escape.”
“Why?”
“Maria died.”
My breath caught.
“She died of an aneurysm.”
“That part was true.”
“Yes.”
Samuel’s eyes filled.
“Vittorio felt responsible for everything that had happened around her.”
“So he put me in his estate.”
“Yes.”
“But I’m not his biological daughter.”
“No.”
“Then why did DNA show Caruso markers?”
Samuel looked toward Damian.
“Because your mother was related to the Carusos.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“How?”
“Her grandmother was Vittorio’s aunt.”
Damian rubbed his forehead.
“This family tree is a nightmare.”
For once, I laughed.
A short, exhausted laugh.
Samuel smiled faintly.
“You and Damian are distant cousins through Maria’s side, not siblings.”
I looked at Damian.
“And Leah?”
“No dangerous genetic connection.”
Gabriel leaned back.
“So the maternity and paternity results remain valid.”
“Yes.”
Leah was mine.
Damian’s.
The truth finally seemed solid.
“What about Ava?”
I asked.
Samuel turned toward her.
His expression broke.
“Ava is my daughter.”
She stared at him.
“With who?”
“Catherine Morgan.”
“So Elena and I are half-sisters.”
“Yes.”
Ava began crying silently.
Samuel reached toward her.
She stepped back.
“You let me think you were dead.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Ava laughed through tears.
“I’m beginning to hate that sentence too.”
I almost smiled.
Then Mateo entered the room.
He had been listening from the hallway.
Damian noticed immediately.
“Mateo?”
The boy looked frightened.
“I know where Mr. Anthony went.”
Every adult went silent.
Damian crouched.
“You heard him say something?”
Mateo nodded.
“He said he had to get the box.”
“What box?”
“The red box my mom hid.”
Damian stared.
“Where?”
Mateo pointed toward the Caruso family portrait.
“Grandpa’s house.”
Damian looked confused.
“This is Grandpa’s house.”
Mateo shook his head.
“No.”
He looked toward me.
“The other house.”
“What other house?”
“The one under the water.”
Nobody spoke.
Samuel’s face turned white.
Damian noticed.
“You know.”
Samuel nodded slowly.
“Lake Bellmont.”
Damian stared at him.
“My father’s summer estate burned thirty years ago.”
“The house burned.”
Samuel swallowed.
“The bunker beneath it didn’t.”
Gabriel stood.
“What’s in the red box?”
Samuel looked at all of us.
“The original evidence archive.”
Damian’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face darkened.
“What?”
A security officer spoke rapidly through the line.
Damian looked toward the television.
We turned it on.
Every national network showed the same breaking story.
SALVATORE CARUSO RELEASED FROM HOSPITAL CUSTODY.
I stared.
“How?”
Damian’s expression became cold.
“Federal transport order.”
Samuel stood.
“That’s impossible.”
Damian looked toward him.
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“It means Salvatore still has someone inside the government.”
Then another alert appeared.
Aerial footage of Lake Bellmont.
Smoke rising from the old Caruso property.
Damian stared.
“They’re already there.”
Mateo whispered:
“The red box.”
Damian grabbed his coat.
This time I did not wait for an argument.
I grabbed mine too.
He looked at me.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Elena.”
“That box explains my mother, Leah, Bianca, Gabriel, Salvatore, all of it.”
Damian stepped closer.
“It may also get you killed.”
I met his eyes.
“I already buried my daughter once.”
My voice lowered.
“I will never let someone erase my family again.”
Damian held my gaze.
Then handed me a protective vest.
May you like
“Stay beside me.”
And somehow, those three words felt more intimate than anything else he could have said.
