NOW TELL MY MOTHER THE TRUTH

The room felt like it was spinning.

“No,” I whispered, gripping the back of the dining chair to keep from collapsing. “My nephew died when he was a baby.”

“That’s what Vincenzo told you,” Julian said, his eyes flashing with decades of buried rage. “My mother—your sister—threatened to go to the police about Vincenzo’s racketeering. So, your loving husband had her taken care of.”

Adrian tensed. “Don't talk about my father.”

“He orchestrated the car crash!” Julian yelled, his calm facade finally breaking. “But I survived. I was placed in the foster system. It took me years to find out who I was. And when I did, I made a promise. I would infiltrate this family, take everything Vincenzo built, and burn his legacy to the ground.”

He pointed the gun directly at Adrian’s chest.

“Starting with his precious golden boy.”

“Julian, please,” Victoria begged, pulling against his grip. “Let Leo go. Take the money, take the vault, just let my boy go.”

“Shut up,” Julian snapped, backhanding her across the face.

Victoria fell hard against the table, sobbing.

Adrian lunged, but Julian’s men instantly raised their weapons.

“Ah, ah,” Julian tutted. “One more step, Adrian, and your mother watches you die.”

Julian looked around the room, victorious.

He had outsmarted everyone. He had poisoned the patriarch, blackmailed a mother, manipulated the son, and was seconds away from taking the empire.

But Julian had made one fatal mistake.

He forgot about the maid.

Sofia had been standing perfectly still in the shadows near the kitchen door.

“You say that bracelet is your family heirloom,” Sofia spoke up.

Her voice was eerily calm.

Julian rolled his eyes. “Quiet, the help is speaking.”

Sofia stepped forward.

She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a worn, wooden rosary.

Julian’s eyes locked onto the beads.

For the first time tonight, he looked genuinely surprised.

“My brother used to pray with this rosary every night,” Sofia said, wrapping the wooden beads around her fist. “His name was Tomas.”

Julian took a step back. “How did you get that?”

“Tomas was a good man,” Sofia continued, her eyes locked onto Julian’s face. “He worked as a mechanic in Queens. Thirty years ago, he found a baby in a wrecked car. He pulled the baby out before it exploded. He raised that boy as his own.”

I stared at Sofia, my mind racing to connect the pieces.

“Tomas raised you, Julian,” Sofia said, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “You weren't in the foster system. You had a father who loved you. But when you got older, and you found out about your Romano blood... you didn't want a poor mechanic for a father anymore, did you?”

Julian’s gun wavered. “Shut your mouth.”

“You killed him,” Sofia cried. “You killed the man who saved your life, you stole that silver bracelet from his lockbox to prove your lineage, and you left me alone!”

Julian gritted his teeth. “He was weak. I was meant for power.”

Sofia didn't cry anymore.

She reached behind her back, pulling a heavy, black revolver from the waistband of her skirt.