Chapter 4 - THE NAME MY MOTHER HID FROM ME
I had spent twenty-nine years believing my father was a quiet mechanic named Thomas Bennett.
He'd taught me how to ride a bicycle.
Fixed my broken dolls.
And worked overtime so I could take piano lessons.
He died when I was sixteen.
I'd loved him more than anyone in the world.
Now my mother's letter was telling me he wasn't my biological father.
I sat on the edge of the dusty piano bench.
Dominic remained beside the doorway.
He didn't interrupt.
He didn't demand answers.
He simply waited.
I read the letter again.
Thomas loved you as his own. That will always be true.
Tears filled my eyes.
But before I married him, I made a mistake that placed us both in danger.
My heart tightened.
Your biological father belonged to a powerful family.
I looked toward Dominic.
He was watching me carefully.
I continued.
I left because I discovered what his family was capable of.
My hands began shaking.
Then I reached the final line.
His name was Adrian Vale.
I stared.
Vale.
The same surname as Dominic.
I slowly looked up.
“Dominic…”
His expression changed.
“What?”
I handed him the letter.
He read it.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he whispered:
“Adrian Vale.”
I swallowed.
“You know him?”
Dominic looked as though someone had punched him.
“He was my father's younger brother.”
My stomach dropped.
“Your uncle?”
Dominic nodded.
“He disappeared thirty years ago.”
I couldn't breathe.
Thirty years.
I was twenty-nine.
The timing fit.
I stared at the letter.
“Are you saying…”
Dominic looked at me.
“That you might be my cousin.”
Silence filled the storage unit.
My mind raced.
The music.
The photograph.
Isabella's disappearance.
My mother's secrets.
And the man standing in front of me.
A mafia boss I'd met six days earlier.
A stranger who might share my blood.
I covered my face.
“This is insane.”
Dominic sat on a nearby crate.
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
He added, perfectly serious, “My family specializes in insane.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Then immediately started crying.
Dominic handed me a clean handkerchief.
I accepted it.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Marcus appeared at the entrance.
“Boss, we found something.”
Dominic stood.
“What?”
Marcus held up a tablet.
“Adrian Vale didn't disappear.”
My heart stopped.
“What do you mean?”
Marcus turned the screen toward us.
A recent photograph appeared.
An older man.
Silver hair.
Sharp gray eyes.
Standing outside a private medical facility in Connecticut.
He looked disturbingly familiar.
Marcus continued.
“Adrian Vale has been living under another name.”
I swallowed.
“Where?”
Marcus looked directly at me.
May you like
Then answered:
“Inside the same facility where Isabella Vale was last seen alive.”
