“She eats upstairs,” the mafia boss’s fiancée said, lifting his mother’s dinner plate.

I stared at the faded ink on the birth certificate.

Mother: Elena Rossi.

"Who is Elena Rossi?" I asked, my voice echoing slightly in the quiet, sterile vault.

Vincent looked at the empty box. "She was my father's first wife. She died in a car accident when I was a baby. Or so I was told."

He looked at me, the betrayal running so deep it seemed to age him ten years in a minute. "Rosa isn't my biological mother. She's Marco's mother. I'm a half-brother."

The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. Marco’s resentment. The way Vanessa had looked down on Vincent. The fact that Rosa had been funneling money out of the family accounts—Vincent’s accounts—to protect Marco.

"Marco knew," I said. "He emptied this box. He left this here for you to find."

"He wanted me to know that the empire I built doesn't belong to me," Vincent said quietly. "He wanted to break me."

We drove back to the mansion. The warm, familial feeling from the night before was completely gone, replaced by a suffocating tension.

Vincent walked straight into the sunroom. Rosa was there, holding Mia on her lap, reading her a book.

She looked up, seeing the thunderous look on Vincent's face.

He didn't yell. He just placed the birth certificate on the small glass table in front of her.

Rosa looked at the paper. She didn't gasp. She didn't deny it. She just closed her eyes, a single tear escaping.

"Is it true?" Vincent asked.

"Yes," Rosa whispered. "Elena was your mother."

"You let me believe you were my mother my whole life," Vincent said, his voice breaking. "And you stole my money to give to your real son."

Rosa handed Mia to me. "Claire, please take the child upstairs."

I hesitated, looking at Vincent. He gave a sharp nod.

I took Mia upstairs, but I couldn't leave. I stood at the top of the landing, listening to the voices below.

"I took the money," Rosa said, her voice stronger now, "because your father left everything to you. He left Marco nothing. Because he knew Marco was weak. But I am a mother, Vincent. I tried to protect my blood."

"And what about me?" Vincent asked.

"I raised you," Rosa fired back. "I loved you like my own! But when Marco got in trouble, I panicked. I knew you would kill him if you found out he betrayed the family. I bought him time."

Vincent turned to leave. "You bought him a fortune, Ma. And you bought yourself an empty house."

He walked toward the front door.

"Vincent!" Rosa called out. "Where are you going?"