Chapter 13 - THE LAST LIE
For one terrible second, nobody understood.
Then Victor did.
He stepped back from me.
“No.”
Hannah DeLuca covered her face.
I felt sick.
“Explain.”
Rebecca struggled.
Richard Vale.
My supposed biological connection.
The possibility was horrifying.
Hannah DeLuca spoke first.
“Rebecca is confused.”
Rebecca shook her head violently.
“No.”
“Then tell me,” I demanded.
My voice broke.
“Tell me now.”
Hannah DeLuca looked at me.
“You are not Richard Vale’s daughter.”
Air returned to my lungs.
Victor closed his eyes.
But Rebecca kept shaking her head.
“Same father.”
Hannah knelt beside her twin.
“Rebecca, listen to me.”
Then understanding hit.
Rebecca was not talking about biological fathers.
She pointed at Victor.
“Antonio.”
Then at me.
“Father.”
I stared.
“What?”
Hannah DeLuca explained.
When I was born, Antonio Romano helped protect me.
He created my documents.
He paid for the apartment where Rebecca raised me.
He stood as my godfather in a private ceremony.
Rebecca’s damaged speech had reduced the idea to two words.
Same father.
Not blood.
Chosen father.
Victor laughed once.
Pure relief.
I nearly hit everyone in the room.
“That was the worst thirty seconds of my life.”
Victor looked at me.
“Agreed.”
Carlo muttered:
“This family needs clearer communication.”
“No kidding.”
But the truth created another question.
Why had Antonio protected me so personally?
Hannah DeLuca answered.
Because Carlo was not my biological father either.
My father had been a federal investigator working undercover with Antonio.
His name was David Brooks.
Rebecca’s future husband.
The man I had always believed was my uncle.
He died before I was born.
Rebecca adopted his last name and raised me as their daughter.
My identity had been constructed by three adults trying to keep me alive.
I sat down.
“I have too many parents.”
Victor almost smiled.
“That may be better than too few.”
Salvatore finally spoke.
“There is one thing left.”
Everyone turned.
He looked at Victor.
“Richard was not the person who activated the bomb.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“Who?”
Salvatore’s gaze moved toward Carlo.
Carlo did not flinch.
“I did.”
Silence.
“You said it was timed.”
“It was.”
“You activated it manually?”
“Yes.”
Victor’s hands curled.
“Why?”
Carlo’s voice broke.
“Because Richard was inside the garage.”
Victor stared.
“I saw him enter. I thought your parents had already left.”
“But they hadn’t.”
“No.”
Carlo’s eyes filled.
“I pressed the switch believing I was killing the man who threatened all of us.”
Victor’s face went blank.
“And you killed my parents.”
“Yes.”
Carlo did not excuse it.
Did not ask forgiveness.
He simply stood there and accepted the truth.
Victor walked away.
This time I didn’t follow.
Some pain needed space.
Hours later, I found Mia outside his bedroom.
She held my hand.
We entered together.
Victor sat beside the window.
Mia crossed the room.
For the first time in two years, she walked directly into her brother’s arms.
Victor froze.
Then held her.
She whispered against his chest:
“Not your fault.”
Victor broke.
So did I.
Then Mia looked at me.
“Hannah?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
She smiled.
“Stay.”
I looked at Victor.
He looked at me.
May you like
And for the first time, staying felt less like a job.
It felt like a choice.
