Chapter 10 - THE FATHER WHO WASN'T
“No.”
Julian said it before I did.
“He’s lying.”
We drove north anyway.
The lake house was surrounded by federal agents Marco had quietly contacted.
Dante had expected me to object.
I didn’t.
I had developed a new appreciation for letting law enforcement do dangerous things.
Victor Bell surrendered after a three-hour standoff.
Nicholas did not.
He came outside holding documents.
Not a weapon.
“My daughter deserves the truth.”
Julian nearly crossed the police line.
I stopped him.
“My daughter.”
Nicholas smiled.
“That’s exactly the arrogance Sofia warned me about.”
I stared at him.
“Are you my father?”
“Yes.”
Julian shouted:
“Liar.”
Nicholas handed the documents to an agent.
DNA report.
Old.
Twenty-seven years.
Sofia Bellini.
Nicholas Bell.
Prenatal paternity.
Probability:
99.7%.
My stomach dropped.
Again.
Julian looked destroyed.
I felt nothing.
Too many fathers.
Too many dead people.
Too many lies.
Then my mother came out of the house.
Alive.
Thin.
Bruised.
I ran.
She caught me.
“Mom.”
“Lena.”
I cried into her shoulder.
Eight months disappeared.
When we finally separated, I asked:
“Who is my father?”
She looked at Julian.
Then Nicholas.
Neither.
“What?”
Sofia closed her eyes.
“Both tests were manipulated.”
Of course they were.
“I don’t even care anymore.”
She almost smiled.
“I know.”
My mother explained.
Francesco had demanded proof of paternity when she became pregnant.
She feared whichever man was confirmed would be killed.
So she bribed the clinic to create false records.
Nicholas believed he was my father.
Julian believed he was.
Neither knew.
“Then who is?”
Sofia looked at me.
“Julian.”
He closed his eyes.
Nicholas’s face twisted.
“No.”
Independent DNA later confirmed it.
Julian was my father.
Nicholas had spent twenty-seven years believing I was his daughter because Sofia intentionally allowed it.
“Why?”
She looked ashamed.
“Because Nicholas was less dangerous than Francesco.”
Nicholas laughed bitterly.
“You used me.”
“Yes.”
At least she did not pretend otherwise.
Victor Bell was arrested.
Nicholas too, for kidnapping and conspiracy.
My mother was safe.
It should have ended there.
It didn’t.
Because inside Victor’s safe, federal agents found the original Rosselli ledger.
And on its final pages were payments to dozens of politicians, judges, police officers, and businessmen.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Dante Rosselli.
I looked at him.
He did not deny it.
“This part is mine.”
My stomach tightened.
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
He looked at Leo.
Then me.
“I can clean up the future.”
His voice lowered.
“But I can’t lie about the past.”
May you like
Federal agents had the ledger now.
And by morning, Dante Rosselli would be under arrest.
