Z

Valentina Serra arrived at Dominic’s office wearing red.

Not dark red.

Not tasteful burgundy.

Bright, unapologetic scarlet.

She was sixty-two and looked younger.

Silver-blond hair cut to her jaw.

Pearl earrings.

A cane she did not appear to need.

Dominic’s receptionist called upstairs.

“There’s a woman here who refuses to give her name.”

Dominic looked through the security camera.

He knew immediately.

“Send her up.”

Mara, sitting across from his desk, stared at him.

“You’re inviting the woman who allegedly wants our son dead upstairs?”

“She came through the front door.”

“That does not make her safe.”

“No.”

“Dominic.”

He looked at her.

“I’m not meeting her alone.”

Roman DeLuca’s younger brother, Luca, now Dominic’s head of corporate security, stood near the window.

Mara looked at him.

“Two guns?”

Luca nodded.

“Three.”

“Why three?”

“One ankle.”

Mara sighed.

The elevator opened.

Valentina entered.

She looked around the room.

Then at Dominic.

“You have Antonio’s posture.”

Dominic remained standing.

“I’m tired of hearing that.”

“You should be grateful. His posture was excellent.”

Mara stared.

Valentina turned toward her.

“Mara.”

“You know me.”

“Everyone knew you when you disappeared pregnant.”

Dominic’s expression hardened.

Valentina smiled.

“That was not a threat.”

“Sit.”

She did.

Dominic remained standing.

“Did you kill my brother?”

Valentina’s eyes sharpened.

“No.”

“Isabella said a woman shot him.”

“A woman did.”

“Who?”

“My daughter.”

Silence.

Mara’s face changed.

Dominic sat.

“Why?”

Valentina looked toward the window.

“Because Matteo Vascari killed her husband.”

Dominic felt the old family machinery beginning again.

Blood.

Retaliation.

Children paying invoices written by parents.

“What was his name?”

“Daniel Serra.”

“Why did Matteo kill him?”

“He believed Daniel worked for Marchesi.”

“Did he?”

Valentina looked at Dominic.

“Yes.”

The answer surprised him.

“Then why blame Matteo?”

“Because truth and grief are not the same thing.”

Mara leaned forward.

“Where is your daughter?”

“Dead.”

Dominic stared.

“How?”

“Suicide.”

Valentina’s voice barely changed.

“My family has been very efficient at burying itself.”

Dominic said nothing.

Valentina crossed one leg over the other.

“You think I want your child dead.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Then why did Isabella say you do?”

“She said I believe Matteo’s line threatens yours.”

“She said you want my son dead.”

Valentina’s mouth tightened.

“Isabella believes fear more easily than facts.”

Dominic watched her.

“You came here for something.”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“To keep Elias alive.”

Mara’s eyebrows lifted.

“Why?”

“Because he is the last living descendant of Matteo Vascari.”

“According to the letter.”

“According to DNA.”

Dominic’s eyes narrowed.

“You know about the test.”

Valentina smiled faintly.

“I know a great many things.”

Luca shifted near the wall.

Valentina noticed.

“No need for theatrics. If I intended to kill Dominic, I would not announce myself to three security systems.”

Dominic leaned forward.

“Who shot at my house?”

“Not me.”

“Who burned Isabella’s motel?”

“Not me.”

“Who wants Matteo dead?”

For the first time, Valentina’s expression became serious.

“Someone who benefits if both Bellini lines destroy each other.”

Mara understood.

“The trust.”

Valentina nodded.

“If Elias dies, your son inherits everything.”

“If my son dies, Elias inherits everything.”

“Yes.”

“So whoever kills one child makes the other look responsible.”

“Or makes the surviving branch easier to manipulate.”

Dominic sat back.

“Who?”

Valentina reached into her purse.

Luca’s hand moved.

She stopped.

“Photographs.”

“Slowly.”

She removed an envelope and placed it on the desk.

Dominic opened it.

Photographs showed a man in his forties.

Tall.

Dark suit.

Perfect hair.

Shaking hands with attorneys.

Entering banks.

Meeting one of Gabriel Marchesi’s former accountants.

Dominic looked up.

“Who is he?”

“Adrian Bellini.”

Sofia’s family tree flashed through his memory.

“There is no Adrian Bellini.”

“There wasn’t.”

Mara picked up a photograph.

“Meaning?”

“He changed his name.”

“From?”

Valentina looked directly at Dominic.

“Adrian Cross.”

Dominic went still.

Mara noticed.

“Cross.”

“Yes.”

Dominic felt the past open.

Celeste Arden’s full birth name had appeared in the original investigation.

Celeste Cross Arden.

Her mother’s surname.

“Celeste.”

Valentina nodded.

“Adrian is her half-brother.”

Dominic stood.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Celeste said her brother was seventeen.”

“Different brother.”

Dominic remembered.

The boy rescued from New Jersey.

A frightened teenager.

He had never questioned whether Celeste had other siblings.

“Adrian is forty-four,” Valentina said. “Her mother had him young. Gave him to relatives.”

Mara stared at the photographs.

“And he is Bellini?”

“His father was Carlo Bellini.”

Sofia entered from the adjoining office.

She had been listening.

“Carlo had no children.”

Valentina turned.

“He had one.”

Sofia stopped.

Valentina continued.

“An illegitimate son.”

Dominic rubbed his forehead.

“Of course.”

Mara almost laughed.

“This family tree needs a forensic accountant.”

Valentina smiled.

“You’re beginning to understand.”

Dominic looked at Adrian’s photograph.

“What does he want?”

“To invalidate both children’s claims.”

“How?”

“By proving neither line is legitimate.”

“Elias has DNA.”

“Blood isn’t the only requirement.”

Sofia spoke quietly.

“Marriage.”

Everyone turned.

She sat down.

“The Bellini trust was written in 1946.”

Valentina nodded.

“Only legitimate descendants born within recognized marriage qualify.”

Mara stared.

“Matteo was legitimate.”

“Yes.”

“So Elias qualifies.”

“Unless Matteo’s identity cannot be legally established.”

Dominic understood.

“No birth certificate under his adult name.”

“Exactly.”

“And Matteo?”

Mara asked.

“Our son?”

Valentina looked at her.

“Your marriage status at the time of his birth.”

Mara froze.

Dominic’s face hardened.

“We were married.”

“You had filed separation papers.”

“Not divorce.”

“Adrian intends to argue the marriage was legally abandoned.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“Probably.”

“Then why care?”

“Because lawsuits freeze assets.”

Valentina tapped the photographs.

“Freeze assets long enough, and trustees gain temporary authority.”

“Which trustee?”

Valentina smiled without humor.

“Adrian.”

Dominic felt rage rise.

“So the attacks are pressure.”

“Yes.”

“Why shoot at my house?”

“To make you react violently.”

Mara looked at Dominic.

Same strategy as Marchesi.

Turn Dominic back into the man everyone expected.

Valentina stood.

“There is a hearing in nine days.”

“What hearing?”

“Emergency trusteeship.”

Dominic stared.

“How do you know?”

“Because Adrian invited me.”

“Why?”

“He thinks I hate you enough to help him.”

“Do you?”

Valentina considered.

“I hated your father for forty years.”

“Not the question.”

She looked toward the family photograph on Dominic’s shelf.

Mara.

Matteo.

Dominic.

“No.”

She moved toward the door.

Dominic stopped her.

“Why help us?”

Valentina’s hand tightened around her cane.

“Because I buried a daughter who believed revenge was inheritance.”

She looked back.

“I would prefer not to bury children for the same reason.”

The elevator doors opened.

Before entering, she added one more thing.

“Dominic.”

He looked at her.

“Ask Celeste why Adrian never appeared in the federal investigation.”

His stomach tightened.

“Celeste is under witness protection.”

Valentina smiled sadly.

“Not anymore.”

“What?”

“She disappeared six weeks ago.”

The elevator doors closed.

Dominic turned to Mara.

Neither spoke.

Then Dominic picked up his phone.

He called Rebecca Klein.

She answered.

“What?”

“Where is Celeste?”

Silence.

“Klein.”

Her voice changed.

“We lost contact.”

“When?”

“Forty-three days ago.”

Dominic looked at Adrian’s photograph.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“She was not your responsibility.”

Dominic stared at the man connected to half the bodies in his family.

“She is now.”