Chapter 5 - THE MAN WHO SIGNED THE DEATH CERTIFICATE
Thomas Keller looked older than I remembered.
Thinner.
Harder.
But the smile was exactly the same.
For years, I had trusted that smile.
He had attended our wedding.
He had sent flowers when my mother died.
He had held my hand at Gabriel’s funeral and told me I would survive.
Now he was pointing a gun at me.
“Thomas.”
His expression softened.
“Elena.”
“How could you?”
“That question has many answers.”
Gabriel stood slightly in front of me.
Thomas noticed.
“How noble.”
“Put the gun down,” Gabriel said.
“You know I can’t.”
“You won’t get out of here.”
Thomas smiled.
“I’m not the one who needs to.”
Footsteps echoed outside.
Gabriel looked toward the doorway.
Thomas fired.
The bullet struck Gabriel’s shoulder.
He fell.
I screamed.
Dr. Warren pulled me behind the metal desk.
More gunfire erupted.
Thomas disappeared into the hallway.
Gabriel pressed his hand against the blood spreading across his shirt.
“Go.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I noticed.”
Dr. Warren knelt beside him.
“The bullet went through.”
Another explosion shook the corridor.
“We need to move,” Warren said.
Gabriel pointed toward a rear door.
“Tunnel.”
We ran.
The tunnel was narrow and dark.
Emergency lights flashed red along the walls.
Gabriel stumbled twice but refused help.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“Old clinic.”
“For what?”
He did not answer.
Dr. Warren did.
“Private births.”
I stopped.
“What?”
Gabriel grabbed my arm.
“Keep moving.”
“No.”
I pulled away.
“This is where you brought Sofia?”
Warren looked at me.
“No.”
His face became pale.
“But I know what happened.”
I stared at him.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
The tunnel suddenly felt too small.
“You signed something.”
Warren lowered his eyes.
“I signed the death certificate.”
My hands curled into fists.
“You told people my baby died.”
“I was forced.”
“Everyone was forced.”
My voice rose.
“That seems to be the favorite excuse.”
Warren flinched.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“Elena.”
“No.”
I stepped toward him.
“For two years I woke up believing my daughter had been put into the ground somewhere without me. Do not stand there and tell me you’re sorry.”
His eyes filled.
“I thought we were saving her.”
“From who?”
“Salvatore.”
Gabriel leaned against the wall.
“Tell her everything.”
Warren nodded.
“Vittorio Caruso came to Zurich shortly before your daughter was born.”
I stared.
“My biological father?”
“Yes.”
“He came to see me?”
“He planned to.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Someone poisoned him.”
The revelation hit me.
“Salvatore.”
“We suspected him.”
Warren continued.
“Vittorio discovered you were his daughter only months before. He had hired investigators after finding an old letter from your mother.”
I thought of my mother.
Quiet.
Protective.
Always changing the subject whenever I asked about my childhood.
“Why did she hide me?”
“Because Vittorio’s world frightened her.”
That I could believe.
“She married Michael Russo when you were three. He adopted you privately. Your records were sealed.”
Warren looked toward Gabriel.
“Then Gabriel discovered the truth while moving assets for Vittorio’s financial network.”
I turned toward my husband.
“You searched me.”
“At first.”
His voice was weak.
“Then I met you.”
I hated that part of me still remembered how good we had once been.
“Continue,” I told Warren.
“When Vittorio realized he had another child, he changed his estate documents.”
“The four-billion-dollar trust.”
Warren looked surprised.
“You know.”
“Gabriel told me.”
“The trust was only part of it. Vittorio created something more dangerous.”
“What?”
“A voting arrangement.”
“For his companies?”
“For everything.”
I stared.
“Vittorio had three biological children. Damian. Bianca. You.”
Warren hesitated.
“He left each equal voting authority over the family’s legitimate companies.”
“What happens if one dies?”
“Their voting share passes to their biological descendants.”
My breath stopped.
“So when Bianca died—”
“Damian believed Leah inherited Bianca’s voting rights.”
“But Leah is mine.”
“Yes.”
“Then Bianca had no descendant.”
Warren looked uncomfortable.
“That is where everything changes.”
Gabriel suddenly straightened.
“Not here.”
“What are you hiding now?”
“Elena, move.”
“No.”
A low rumble came from behind us.
Someone was entering the tunnel.
Gabriel drew a gun with his uninjured hand.
We moved faster.
The tunnel ended at a service hatch leading into a wooded area.
Cold air hit my face.
Several vehicles waited beyond the trees.
One SUV raced toward us.
Gabriel raised his weapon.
Then headlights flashed twice.
He lowered it.
Damian emerged from the passenger side before the vehicle stopped completely.
Blood covered the side of his forehead.
He walked toward us like the Devil himself had come to collect a debt.
His men followed.
The moment Damian saw me, something in his expression released.
Then he saw Gabriel.
His face turned murderous.
He grabbed Gabriel by the throat and slammed him against a tree.
“You took her.”
Gabriel winced.
“She wanted answers.”
“You dragged her out of my car.”
“I needed Salvatore to believe I controlled the situation.”
Damian punched him.
Gabriel hit the ground.
“Damian!”
He ignored me.
He drew his gun.
I stepped between them.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“He knows things.”
“So does a corpse.”
“Damian.”
His eyes burned.
“Move.”
I did not.
“He saved Leah.”
Damian’s expression shifted.
“Bianca saved Leah.”
“Gabriel arranged the hospital transfer.”
“He also destroyed your life.”
“That is mine to deal with.”
For several seconds we stared at each other.
Finally, Damian lowered the gun.
Barely.
“You get one conversation,” he told Gabriel.
“Then I decide what happens.”
Gabriel coughed.
“Fair.”
Damian’s men loaded us into separate vehicles.
I rode with Damian and Dr. Warren.
“What did he tell you?” Damian asked.
“Vittorio was my father.”
Silence.
Damian stared ahead.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Do you believe it?”
He looked at me.
“I believe Bianca died protecting your child. I believe my father kept secrets from everyone.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“I did not know I had another sister.”
The word sister sounded strange.
My entire life had changed in hours.
Damian was not simply a mafia boss holding my daughter.
He might be my brother.
Bianca might have died for her niece.
And Salvatore might have murdered his own family for power.
Dr. Warren spoke quietly.
“There is another problem.”
Damian looked at him.
“What?”
Warren swallowed.
“When Bianca brought Leah to Damian, we performed a genetic screening.”
“For illness?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Warren looked toward me.
“The results were unusual.”
My pulse quickened.
“How?”
“Leah’s DNA showed a Caruso family connection.”
“That makes sense if Vittorio is my father.”
“Yes.”
Warren hesitated.
“But the paternal side also showed a connection to someone in the database.”
Gabriel?
I turned.
“Who?”
Warren looked at Damian.
“I never told you because I assumed the data was contaminated.”
Damian’s face hardened.
“Whose DNA?”
The doctor’s voice dropped.
“Yours.”
No one spoke.
I stared at Damian.
He stared at Warren.
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
Damian’s voice became dangerous.
“Say it clearly.”
Dr. Warren swallowed.
“The preliminary test suggested Leah was genetically related to Elena as her mother.”
He paused.
“And to you as her father.”
The SUV became completely silent.
My stomach turned.
“No.”
Damian looked genuinely horrified.
“If Elena is my half-sister, that cannot be correct.”
“It isn’t,” Warren said quickly.
“Then explain.”
“There is only one explanation I can think of.”
“What?”
“The sample labeled as Damian’s DNA in the family medical database…”
Warren looked pale.
“…was never Damian’s DNA.”
Damian stared at him.
“Then whose was it?”
Warren slowly shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
But I suddenly remembered something Gabriel had said.
One secret he had avoided.
Something about Bianca’s death.
I looked at Damian.
“What if your father wasn’t Vittorio?”
He became still.
Before he could respond, Damian’s phone rang.
His security chief answered first.
Then handed it over.
Damian listened.
His face turned white.
“What happened?”
He lowered the phone.
“Salvatore went to the mansion.”
My heart stopped.
“Leah?”
Damian’s voice dropped.
“Rosa is unconscious.”
I could barely breathe.
“And Leah?”
May you like
He looked at me.
“She’s gone.”
