Chapter 5 - THE REQUEST ADRIAN COULDN’T REMEMBER
Adrian wanted to call it a lie.
Then Dominic produced a recording.
Three years earlier.
Adrian’s own voice.
Thin.
Exhausted.
“I cannot sleep during negotiations.”
Dominic:
“You need sleep.”
Adrian:
“I need control.”
Then:
“Evers says there’s something mild.”
Dominic:
“Adrian—”
Adrian:
“Do it.”
The recording ended.
Adrian felt sick.
He had asked for a stimulant.
At least once.
Maybe more.
But not the neurological compound.
“What about the drops found now?”
Dominic’s face tightened.
“That changed later.”
“How?”
“Evers said your body had adjusted. He switched formulations.”
“Without telling me?”
“You told me to handle it.”
“When?”
Dominic played another recording.
Adrian, slurring slightly:
“Handle the doctors. Handle everything.”
No date context.
No clarity.
No proof of informed consent.
Still, it complicated the story.
Adrian had delegated control during his worst period.
Dominic may have started by following orders.
Then crossed lines.
“When did you know it was hurting me?”
Silence.
There.
“Dominic.”
“About a year ago.”
Adrian’s chest tightened.
“And you continued.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dominic looked at the floor.
“Because when we stopped once, you improved.”
“That should have ended it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you started taking everything back.”
Adrian went still.
Dominic admitted it.
The more Adrian recovered, the more he questioned contracts Dominic had signed.
The more he reversed decisions.
Dominic had grown accustomed to control.
At first, he justified continuing the medication as temporary.
Then useful.
Then necessary.
“You told yourself I was unstable.”
“Yes.”
“You told everyone.”
“Yes.”
“You believed it?”
Dominic’s eyes filled.
“Sometimes.”
That hurt more than simple greed.
Then Adrian asked about the doctors.
Dominic admitted paying Evers through the foundation.
Not directly for falsified reports, he claimed.
But he pressured him.
Asked for language emphasizing cognitive risk.
The second physician?
Dominic denied influencing her.
Investigators would decide.
Then came the shipping scheme.
Dominic admitted hidden transfers.
Not theft.
At least according to him.
He had been moving Moretti assets into protective offshore structures because he believed Adrian’s deteriorating judgment might expose the family companies to seizure during international investigations.
Matteo laughed.
“Very noble.”
Dominic ignored him.
“Some accounts are legitimate.”
“Some?”
Silence.
Adrian waited.
Dominic finally admitted taking personal compensation beyond what the board approved.
Millions.
Not half the empire.
But enough.
Again.
Fear becoming entitlement.
Then Adrian asked:
“Did you cause Ethan’s accident?”
Dominic’s face changed instantly.
“No.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tamper with the truck?”
“No.”
Adrian believed the denial emotionally.
Not factually.
Evidence still needed.
“Did you know he survived?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Months later.”
“Did you search for him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was relieved.”
That answer surprised everyone.
Dominic had wanted Ethan silent.
Not dead.
Still wrong.
Different.
Then Adrian asked the one question that mattered most.
“Why were you searching Father’s office?”
Dominic looked toward Antonio’s succession file.
“To find the external trustee.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why care?”
“Because if you recovered and challenged me, the succession clause could remove both of us.”
Adrian frowned.
“Both?”
Dominic pulled a document from his coat.
He had found it upstairs before entering.
External interim trustee designation.
Name redacted in the copy.
But a note referenced:
CELESTE BENEFICIARY LINE.
Adrian stopped.
His mother had another beneficiary line?
“Meaning?”
Dominic whispered:
“Mother had a child before she married Father.”
Silence.
Adrian’s world tilted.
“What?”
“A daughter.”
Older than both brothers.
Hidden.
Antonio knew.
Celeste’s family knew.
The child was placed with relatives under another surname.
Why did it matter?
Because Antonio’s fallback governance plan named that daughter—or her descendants—as independent family trustee if Adrian’s incapacity appeared suspicious.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Name?”
Dominic shook his head.
Then Matteo found a birth record reference inside Celeste’s file.
Female child.
Mother:
Celeste Romano.
Father:
Unknown.
Child:
Sophia Romano.
Born thirty-seven years earlier.
Adrian stared.
He had a half sister.
Older.
Hidden.
Then Hannah whispered:
“Romano?”
Everyone looked at her.
Her face had gone pale.
“My husband’s mother’s maiden name was Romano.”
Silence.
Adrian turned slowly.
“Ethan?”
May you like
Hannah’s voice broke.
“His mother’s name was Sophia.”
