Chapter 2 - THE SCAR THAT PROVED EVERYTHING
The silence in the dining room was absolute.
Thirty-six guests stopped breathing.
The gray-haired man slowly lowered his wineglass. His hand shook, and the jagged white scar across his knuckles caught the light of the crystal chandeliers.
Bianca stepped back, her face drained of color. “Vincent, you’re acting crazy. This is Thomas. He’s just my father’s attorney.”
Vincent didn’t look at her. His eyes were locked on the man. “Show me your hand.”
The man hesitated.
“I said, show me your hand.” Vincent’s voice wasn’t a yell. It was a deadly, quiet whisper.
The man placed his left hand flat on the mahogany table.
Rose sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “It’s him. He saved you from the fire when you were a baby.”
I stood frozen by the serving cart. My heart hammered against my ribs. I had only been working at the Romano estate for fourteen months, but I knew enough about Vincent to know that no one lied to him and lived.
Especially not the woman he was about to marry.
Vincent traced the air above the scar. “Nico?”
The man’s jaw tightened. He looked at Rose, then at Vincent. “My name is Thomas Vance.”
“Where did you get that Saint Christopher medal?” Vincent asked.
Thomas touched his collar. “It was given to me by the family that raised me.”
Bianca rushed forward, grabbing Vincent’s arm. “Darling, please! Your mother is old and confused. She’s grieving. Let’s not ruin our engagement over a delusion.”
Vincent slowly turned his head to look at his fiancée. “You brought him here under a fake name. You went to my mother’s bedroom yesterday and threatened her.”
“I did no such thing!” Bianca cried.
“She told me I’d never see you again,” Rose whispered, her frail voice echoing in the quiet room. “She said if I told Vincent the truth, she would have you transferred out of the country.”
Vincent’s dark eyes hardened into black ice. “Why, Bianca?”
Bianca’s father, a powerful real estate mogul named Arthur, stood up. “Vincent, my daughter was trying to protect you. She found this man a month ago. We ran a DNA test.”
Vincent froze. “You ran a DNA test behind my back?”
“We had to be sure!” Bianca pleaded. “Do you know what it would do to your empire if a long-lost older brother suddenly appeared? The syndicate would fracture. I was trying to pay him off to leave quietly. For you, Vincent.”
Thomas let out a bitter, raspy laugh. “Pay me off? Is that what you call it?”
Everyone turned to him.
Thomas reached into his suit jacket. My breath caught as Vincent’s bodyguards instantly put their hands on their weapons.
But Thomas didn’t pull out a gun.
He pulled out a heavy, gold pocket watch.
It was dented and tarnished.
Vincent gasped, stepping back as if he’d been struck.
“You recognize this?” Thomas asked.
“It was my father’s,” Vincent whispered. “He was buried with it.”
Thomas shook his head. “No, Vincent. He wasn't. Because the men who took me thirty-seven years ago weren't strangers. And they weren't debt collectors.”
Thomas slid the watch across the table.
“Your fiancée didn't bring me here to protect you. She brought me here because I finally found out who paid those men to kidnap me.”
May you like
Thomas looked dead at Bianca’s father.
“Tell him, Arthur.”
