Chapter 4 - The Name Serena Never Knew
Serena stared at Isabella.
“My father was Thomas Bell.”
Isabella's expression filled with sadness.
“No.”
Roman moved between them.
“Enough.”
Isabella looked at him.
“You wanted the truth.”
“I wanted the truth about you.”
“You can't separate the two.”
Serena stepped around Roman.
“Who was my father?”
Isabella studied her.
“Gabriel Moretti.”
Roman froze.
Serena knew the name.
Everyone in Roman's world did.
Gabriel Moretti had controlled the eastern docks twenty-five years earlier.
He had also been blamed for the assassination of Roman's father.
Serena turned slowly toward her husband.
Roman looked as if someone had struck him.
“No.”
Isabella nodded.
“Gabriel never ordered your father's murder.”
“You told me he did.”
“I told you what kept you alive.”
Roman's voice dropped.
“You let me spend fourteen years believing Moretti killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the man who actually ordered it was standing inside our family.”
Roman stared.
“Who?”
Isabella shook her head.
“Not here.”
Roman laughed without humor.
“You disappear for twelve years, return from the dead, tell my wife her father was my family's enemy, and now you're concerned about location?”
“I disappeared because someone tried to kill me twice.”
Serena's voice cut through them.
“Why was I in that photograph?”
Isabella turned to her.
“Your father brought you to me.”
“When?”
“You were five.”
“I don't remember.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
Serena's stomach turned.
“What does that mean?”
“Gabriel knew he was going to die. He asked me to arrange a new identity for you and your mother.”
“My mother died when I was nine.”
Isabella's eyes softened.
“Yes.”
“Was that a lie too?”
“No.”
The answer hurt more because Serena believed it.
Roman stood beside her.
Not touching.
Close.
“Thomas Bell?” Serena asked.
“Protected you,” Isabella said. “He wasn't your biological father, but he loved you as one.”
Tears filled Serena's eyes.
Her childhood had suddenly become a room with false walls.
Roman looked at his mother.
“Why marry us?”
Isabella went silent.
Serena turned.
“What?”
Roman's eyes remained on Isabella.
“You knew Serena's identity. Did you arrange our meeting?”
“No.”
Roman's shoulders eased slightly.
“But,” Isabella continued, “when I learned you were together, I made certain nobody separated you.”
Roman's face hardened again.
“Why?”
“Because your marriage did what twenty years of negotiations couldn't.”
Serena felt sick.
“Peace.”
Isabella nodded.
“Duca and Moretti blood under one roof.”
Roman stepped forward.
“She isn't a treaty.”
“I know.”
“Did you?”
Isabella's eyes flashed.
“I watched you from a distance for six years. I know exactly what Serena became to you.”
Roman glanced at Serena.
She looked away.
Isabella saw it.
“And I see what your fear has done.”
“That isn't your concern.”
“It became my concern when you repeated your father's mistake.”
Roman stiffened.
“My father adored you.”
“Yes. In private.”
Roman said nothing.
Isabella looked at Serena.
“His enemies knew he loved me anyway.”
Serena remembered Roman's explanation.
His mother's hand in his father's.
The photograph.
The assassination.
Isabella stepped closer.
“Roman thought hiding love made it invisible. It doesn't. It only makes the person you love feel hidden.”
Roman's face tightened.
Serena looked at him.
For once, he had no defense.
Marco entered quickly.
“We need to move.”
Roman turned.
“What?”
“Vehicle outside. Engine running. No plates.”
Isabella's expression changed.
“They found me.”
Roman looked at her.
“Who?”
A gunshot cracked outside.
Marco drew his weapon.
“Down!”
Roman pulled Serena behind the stone altar.
Another shot.
Stone exploded near the entrance.
Security returned fire.
Roman covered Serena.
She looked up at him.
“Your mother.”
“I know.”
Isabella had disappeared behind a column.
Roman shouted, “Marco!”
“I've got her!”
The gunfire stopped as abruptly as it began.
An engine screamed away.
Marco's team secured the grounds.
Nobody was hit.
Roman stood.
Serena's hands shook.
He reached for them.
This time he did not look around first.
He simply held them.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
Then she realized Isabella was staring.
Roman realized too.
He did not release Serena.
Something shifted between them.
Tiny.
But real.
Back at the penthouse, Isabella finally told them the rest.
Gabriel Moretti had discovered that someone inside the Duca organization was engineering a war between the families.
Before he could expose the traitor, Gabriel was killed.
Months later Roman's father discovered the same conspiracy.
Then he was assassinated.
“Who?” Roman asked again.
“I never had proof.”
“You had a name.”
“Yes.”
“Give it to me.”
Isabella hesitated.
“Vittorio Duca.”
Roman went pale.
His uncle.
The man who had raised him after his father's death.
The man who had taught him the business.
The man Roman called when he needed advice.
Serena whispered, “Is he still alive?”
Roman nodded.
“He lives thirty minutes away.”
Isabella said, “And if he learns I'm alive, he won't stay there.”
Roman pulled out his phone.
He called Vittorio.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Marco entered.
“His house is empty.”
Roman looked at Isabella.
“Since when?”
“Security footage shows him leaving two hours ago.”
“With whom?”
Marco hesitated.
“Adrian Vale.”
Serena's stomach dropped.
Roman immediately called Adrian.
Voicemail.
Isabella whispered, “Elias's son.”
Serena shook her head.
“He helped us.”
“Or led us here,” Roman said.
Serena looked at him.
“Don't decide he's guilty because you're angry.”
“I decide based on evidence.”
“You decided Moretti was guilty for fourteen years.”
That landed.
Roman nodded slowly.
“You're right.”
Isabella looked between them.
“You two may actually survive each other.”
Serena almost smiled.
Almost.
Then her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph arrived.
Adrian was sitting in a chair.
Blood ran from his temple.
Behind him stood Vittorio.
A message followed.
BRING ISABELLA.
Roman read it.
Then another message arrived.
This one addressed to Serena.
YOUR FATHER LEFT SOMETHING FOR YOU.
An address appeared.
Serena recognized it.
Her childhood home.
The house had been abandoned since her mother's death.
Roman said, “You're not going.”
Serena looked at him.
His expression changed.
He caught himself.
Then tried again.
“We shouldn't go without knowing what's waiting.”
She nodded.
“Better.”
Roman almost laughed.
They drove there before dawn with security surrounding the property.
The house stood empty.
Serena had not entered it in twenty-two years.
Inside, dust covered everything.
Her old bedroom remained upstairs.
A faded wooden jewelry box sat inside the closet.
Serena opened it.
Empty.
Roman examined the bottom.
“False panel.”
He lifted it.
A key lay beneath.
And an address.
Roman knew it.
“Private bank.”
Serena looked closer.
Beneath the address was a handwritten sentence.
IF A DUCA IS STANDING BESIDE YOU, ASK HIM ABOUT THE RED LEDGER.
Serena looked at Roman.
“What red ledger?”
Roman's expression told her enough.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
Before Roman could answer, Isabella appeared in the doorway.
She read the note.
Her face drained of color.
“Gabriel found it.”
Roman turned.
“Found what?”
Isabella looked at Serena.
“The record of every person Vittorio bought, blackmailed, or killed.”
A floorboard creaked downstairs.
Marco's voice came through Roman's earpiece.
“Boss, we have movement.”
Roman drew his weapon.
Serena held the key.
Then a voice rose from the first floor.
“Serena?”
She stopped breathing.
She knew that voice.
It belonged to the man who had raised her.
The man whose funeral she had attended fifteen years earlier.
May you like
Thomas Bell called again from downstairs.
“Sweetheart, don't let Roman open the red ledger.”
