Z

The bullet lodged three inches above Matteo’s bedroom door.

Dominic stared at it until anger became something colder.

Years ago, he would have answered an attack with bodies.

Now he called the police.

That still felt unnatural.

Detectives sealed the street.

Federal agents arrived because Dominic’s cooperation agreement remained active.

Rebecca Klein entered the townhouse at 9:14 p.m.

She had more gray in her hair than the last time Dominic had seen her.

“You attract peaceful evenings.”

Dominic ignored the remark.

“Someone shot into a house with children inside.”

“I noticed.”

“Find them.”

“That’s usually the idea.”

Mara appeared behind him.

“Dominic.”

He turned.

Elias sat in the kitchen with Sofia.

Matteo had finally fallen asleep upstairs.

Mara lowered her voice.

“We need to know whether the letter is real.”

Dominic looked toward Elias.

“He looks like my father.”

“That isn’t DNA.”

“I know.”

“We test him.”

Elias heard.

He looked up.

“I’ll do it.”

Dominic’s expression softened.

“You don’t have to decide tonight.”

“Yes, I do.”

The boy’s voice was steady.

“My grandmother said people would lie if she disappeared.”

Mara pulled out a chair.

“What happened to Isabella?”

Elias looked at the table.

“Three nights ago, she woke me up at two in the morning.”

“Where do you live?”

“New Haven.”

“With her?”

He nodded.

“My parents died when I was four.”

“How?”

“Car accident.”

Dominic and Mara exchanged a glance.

Too many Bellini deaths arrived on wheels.

Elias continued.

“She gave me cash and a train ticket.”

“To New York?”

“Yes.”

“She told you to find Dominic?”

“She said find Antonio’s second son.”

Dominic felt that phrase in his chest.

Second son.

All his life he had been raised as an only son.

Apparently everyone else had been keeping count.

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

“Was she frightened?”

“Yes.”

“Of who?”

Elias reached into his pocket.

He removed a silver pendant.

A small tailor’s shears were engraved on the back.

Dominic recognized the symbol.

Sarto.

The Tailors.

“They left this on our door.”

Sofia crossed herself.

Klein took the pendant with gloved fingers.

“Evidence.”

Dominic looked at her.

“The Marchesi network was dismantled.”

“Most of it.”

“Most?”

“Gabriel Marchesi was the head we could prove.”

“Which means?”

“Networks like that don’t vanish because one man dies in prison.”

Gabriel had suffered a stroke thirteen months into his sentence.

He never regained consciousness.

Dominic had thought that chapter closed.

Klein continued.

“We knew there were financial partners overseas.”

“Names.”

“I’m not giving you an active investigation.”

“My son was just shot at.”

“Which is why I’m standing in your living room at night.”

Mara stepped between their tempers.

“Who benefits if one heir disappears?”

Klein looked at the letter.

“Depends whether this trust is actually worth what Isabella claims.”

Sofia answered.

“It is.”

Everyone turned.

Dominic frowned.

“You know?”

His mother looked tired.

“The Bellini holdings were never just ports.”

“What else?”

“Land.”

“How much?”

“New Jersey waterfront. Savannah. Baltimore. Warehouses in Genoa.”

Dominic stared.

“Why have I never heard this?”

“Because your grandfather hid ownership through layered companies.”

Klein pulled out her phone.

“How valuable?”

Sofia whispered, “Today?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe nine hundred million.”

Silence.

Dominic laughed once.

“Of course.”

Mara looked at him.

“What?”

“We finally build a normal life and apparently inherit a billion-dollar family war.”

Elias looked frightened.

“I don’t want money.”

Dominic turned.

The boy was gripping his sleeves.

“I just want my grandmother.”

Dominic knelt beside him.

For once, he knew exactly what to say.

“I know.”

Elias looked up.

“Are you my uncle?”

The question hit him harder than expected.

“If that letter is true, technically I’m your great-uncle.”

“That sounds old.”

Mara covered a smile.

Dominic frowned.

“Thank you.”

Elias almost smiled too.

It lasted one second.

Then his face collapsed.

“What if she’s dead?”

Dominic hesitated.

He refused to lie to children now.

“I don’t know.”

Elias wiped his face quickly.

“But we’re going to find out.”

The DNA results arrived forty-eight hours later.

Klein read them in Dominic’s dining room.

“Elias shares enough autosomal DNA with Dominic to support a close biological relationship consistent with granduncle and grandnephew.”

Sofia closed her eyes.

Mara held Dominic’s hand.

Elias stared at the report.

“So he was real.”

Dominic knew who he meant.

“My brother.”

Elias nodded.

“Your grandfather.”

“Yes.”

Dominic sat down.

“Matteo lived.”

The words felt unreal.

Sofia started crying again.

Not quietly this time.

She covered her face.

“My baby lived.”

Dominic moved beside her.

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have.”

“You were twenty-two.”

“I was his mother.”

“And somebody stole the truth from you.”

She leaned against him.

For several minutes nobody spoke.

Then Klein received a call.

She walked toward the window.

“Repeat that.”

Her face changed.

Dominic noticed.

“What?”

Klein ended the call.

“We found Isabella.”

Elias stood.

“Where?”

“Connecticut.”

“Is she okay?”

Klein hesitated.

Dominic hated that hesitation.

“Tell him.”

“She’s alive.”

Elias exhaled.

Dominic did too.

“But she’s in intensive care.”

“What happened?”

“House fire.”

Elias stared.

“Our house?”

“No. Motel outside Bridgeport.”

Klein looked at Dominic.

“Fire department found evidence of accelerant.”

Arson.

Dominic’s jaw tightened.

“Can she talk?”

“Briefly.”

They drove there under federal escort.

Isabella Bellini looked impossibly fragile.

Oxygen covered half her face.

Elias entered first.

“Nonna.”

Her eyes opened.

She reached for him.

The boy broke.

Dominic stayed by the door until Isabella noticed him.

Her gaze locked onto his face.

She started crying.

“Antonio.”

Dominic stepped closer.

“No.”

She blinked.

“I’m Dominic.”

Her hand trembled.

“Second son.”

“Yes.”

“You look like him.”

“So people keep telling me.”

Isabella smiled faintly.

Then coughed painfully.

Dominic sat.

“What happened to my brother?”

Her eyes closed.

“Matteo lived twenty-nine years.”

Dominic swallowed.

“How did he die?”

“Shot.”

“By Marchesi?”

“No.”

That surprised him.

“Who?”

Isabella looked frightened.

“A woman.”

“Name.”

She struggled for breath.

Elias touched her hand.

“Nonna, don’t.”

But Isabella forced the words out.

“Your father had another enemy.”

Dominic leaned closer.

“Who?”

She whispered a name.

“Valentina Serra.”

Sofia, standing behind him, made a sound of recognition.

Dominic turned.

“You know her.”

His mother’s face had gone white.

“She was your father’s first fiancée.”

Dominic stared.

Sofia continued.

“Before me.”

Isabella’s monitor began climbing.

A nurse rushed in.

Dominic stood back.

Isabella grabbed his sleeve.

“Listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“She believes the Bellini inheritance was stolen from her family.”

“Why?”

“Because her mother was the eldest Bellini daughter.”

Dominic frowned.

“That means—”

“She has a blood claim.”

Isabella’s eyes fluttered.

“And she has children too.”

The monitor alarmed.

Doctors moved in.

Dominic was pushed backward.

Before the curtain closed, Isabella managed one final sentence.

“She doesn’t want Elias dead.”

Dominic froze.

“Then who does she want dead?”

Isabella looked straight at him.

“Your son.”