Chapter 6 - THE COAT IN THE CELLAR
Vincent roared in pain, collapsing to the floor as his cane clattered away.
The guards spun around, completely bewildered by Vanessa’s attack.
In that split second of confusion, Luca lunged.
He tackled the nearest guard, wrestling the shotgun from his grip and driving the butt of the weapon into the man’s jaw.
Leo didn't hesitate. Realizing the truth of his entire life had been a lie, he turned his weapon on Vincent’s remaining guards.
“Drop them!” Leo shouted, his voice finally carrying the unmistakable command of a true Moretti.
The guards, outmatched and seeing their boss writhing on the floor, slowly lowered their guns.
Vanessa stood over Vincent, dropping the iron poker. She was breathing heavily, her mascara running down her face in black streaks.
“You were going to let me marry the man whose father you murdered?” Vanessa screamed at the old man. “You were going to let me walk into a family you destroyed, just to secure your shipping lanes?”
Vincent clutched his knee, glaring up at her. “You ungrateful little brat. I gave you everything! I took you from a scrubbing maid and made you a queen!”
Vanessa flinched, the words confirming everything Rosa had said.
She turned to Luca, her eyes wild.
“I didn't know he killed Antonio,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I swear to you, Luca. I didn't know.”
Luca looked at her, his expression unreadable.
“It doesn't matter anymore, Vanessa.”
He turned to his head of security, who was finally getting back to his feet.
“Marco. Tie them up. Call the feds. Tell them we have a gift for them.”
Luca then turned his attention to Leo.
The two brothers stood in the center of the ruined library, a chasm of twenty years and a mountain of lies between them.
Leo looked down at the silver bear around his neck, then at the charm bracelet in my hand.
He looked at Luca.
“He told me my family threw me away,” Leo choked out.
Luca closed the distance between them. He didn't speak. He just reached out and pulled the young man into a fiercely tight embrace.
Leo dropped his gun and hugged his brother back, burying his face in Luca’s shoulder.
I stepped back, giving them space, wiping a stray tear from my own cheek.
But the night wasn't over.
“Rosa,” I gasped, suddenly remembering.
Luca pulled back from Leo, his eyes widening. “The cellar.”
We left Marco to guard the Bellinis and ran down the hallway toward the kitchen.
The door to the wine cellar was deadbolted from the outside.
Luca smashed the lock with the butt of the shotgun, kicking the heavy wooden door open.
We hurried down the stone steps into the cold, damp dark.
“Rosa!” I called out.
No answer.
Luca flipped the light switch, but the bulb had been shattered.
I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight.
The beam swept across the racks of dusty wine bottles, finally landing on a small figure huddled in the corner.
Rosa was sitting on the stone floor, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
She was shivering violently.
“Rosa!” I ran to her, dropping to my knees.
She was breathing, but her skin was freezing cold. Vincent’s men had left her down here in the damp chill for over an hour.
“I’m okay, child,” she whispered weakly, though her teeth were chattering.
Luca took off his heavy suit jacket and wrapped it around her frail shoulders.
“We’ve got you,” Luca said softly. “Vincent is done. Leo is safe. We have him.”
Rosa’s eyes widened with pure joy, though she barely had the strength to smile. “Il bambino.”
As Luca helped Rosa to her feet, my flashlight beam caught something lying on the floor behind the wine casks.
It was an old, heavy wool coat.
It looked completely out of place in a climate-controlled wine cellar.
I reached out and pulled it free.
It was a man’s coat. Dark navy. Covered in years of dust.
“What is that?” Luca asked, supporting Rosa’s weight.
“I don't know,” I said.
I checked the pockets.
My fingers brushed against thick, folded paper.
I pulled it out and shined my flashlight on it.
It was a bundle of letters, tied with a faded red ribbon.
But it wasn't the letters that made my heart stop.
It was the name embroidered on the inside collar of the coat.
Thomas Sullivan.
My father’s name.
I dropped the coat on the stone floor.
“Emma?” Luca asked, sensing my sudden panic. “What’s wrong?”
I stared at the letters in my hand.
The top envelope was addressed to my mother.
And the return address was the Bellini Estate.
“Luca,” I whispered, my world completely turning upside down. “My mother wasn't just a housekeeper.”
I untied the ribbon and opened the first letter.
I read the first line, and the air was completely sucked from my lungs.
It was a confession.
Written by my father.
May you like
My dearest Mary. May God forgive me. I am the one who drove the car that struck Antonio Moretti.
TITLE: The Sins of the Father
