Chapter 5 - THE PRICE OF A NAME
“Where is the boy?” I demanded, shoving the birth certificate back into the book.
“He’s at a boarding school in Connecticut,” Helen whispered, leaning heavily on my arm. “Celeste kept him hidden from Marco. She told Daniel if he ever spoke up, she would vanish with Leo forever.”
The sheer cruelty of it took my breath away. Celeste had planned to marry Marco, using his money to fund her life, while keeping his nephew a complete secret.
More gunfire echoed from the main foyer.
“We can’t go out the front,” I said. “The garden doors.”
I led Helen down the back corridor. We pushed through the glass patio doors, stepping out into the freezing rain.
We hid behind the thick stone retaining wall of the garden patio.
Inside the mansion, the fighting was escalating. The sound of breaking glass and shouting spilled out into the night.
Suddenly, the side doors burst open.
Victor stumbled out onto the patio.
His shoulder was bleeding heavily. He held his gun wildly in his good hand, scanning the darkness.
Behind him, Marco stepped out of the shadows.
“It’s over, Victor,” Marco said. His voice cut through the rain. “My men are surrounding the property. Put the gun down.”
Victor laughed, spitting blood onto the stone. “I worked for you for fifteen years, Marco. I protected you. You owe me.”
“You murdered my father.”
“He was weak!” Victor yelled. “He was going to sell the business to the Warrens. I saved your empire!”
Before Marco could reply, Daniel stepped out from the opposite side of the patio, his gun aimed directly at Victor’s back.
“Drop it, Victor,” Daniel commanded.
Victor froze. He looked back and forth between the two brothers.
For the first time in two years, Marco and Daniel locked eyes. The anger, the betrayal, the unsaid apologies—it all passed between them in a single glance.
Victor realized he had no way out.
He didn't drop the gun. Instead, he raised it toward Marco.
Daniel fired twice.
Victor collapsed onto the wet stone, the gun clattering out of his reach.
Marco slowly lowered his weapon. He walked over and kicked Victor’s gun into the grass.
Then he turned to his younger brother.
Daniel stood in the rain, his chest heaving. He looked older, broken by his time in a cell.
“Marco,” Daniel whispered.
Marco crossed the patio in three long strides. He didn't hit him. He didn't yell.
He grabbed Daniel and pulled him into a crushing embrace.
Daniel let out a choked sob, gripping his older brother’s jacket.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel cried. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” Marco said fiercely, holding him tight. “I know everything.”
I stepped out from behind the wall, supporting Helen.
Daniel saw his godmother and rushed over, kissing her cheek. “You’re okay. Thank God.”
Marco walked over to us. He looked at me, completely drenched, shivering, but standing firm.
“Thank you, Olivia,” Marco said softly.
Before I could answer, a scream pierced the air.
Celeste was dragged out onto the patio by two of Marco’s loyal security guards. She was thrashing wildly, her burgundy dress torn and ruined.
They threw her to her knees in front of Marco.
“Marco, please!” Celeste begged. “Victor locked me up! I didn't want any of this!”
Marco looked down at her with absolute disgust.
Daniel stepped forward. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small leather book Helen had dropped earlier. He threw it at Celeste’s feet.
“It’s over, Celeste,” Daniel said. “We know about Leo.”
Celeste stared at the book. All the fight drained out of her instantly.
Marco crouched down to her level. “My men are driving to Connecticut right now. They are picking up my nephew. You are going to sign over full custody to Daniel. And then you are going to get on a plane, and you are never coming back.”
Celeste looked up, venom flashing in her eyes. “You can’t take my son.”
“He’s a Bellini,” Marco said coldly. “Watch me.”
Celeste spat at Marco’s feet.
“Take her away,” Marco ordered.
The guards dragged her toward the front gates.
The storm began to break, the heavy rain slowing to a quiet drizzle.
I turned to head back into the house, my job seemingly done.
“Olivia.”
Marco caught my arm.
“Where are you going?”
“To clean up the kitchen, sir,” I said, suddenly feeling very small in the presence of this reunited family.
May you like
Marco gently took my hand. His thumb brushed across my cold knuckles.
“You’re not cleaning anything,” Marco said softly. “You saved my family tonight. You’re coming with us.”
