Chapter 13 - A Father’s Confession
Salvatore was alive.
Arthur watched the footage three times.
Marco whispered, “Impossible.”
Arthur had buried him.
Or believed he had.
The coffin had remained closed because the body had supposedly been damaged in a fire.
Another lie.
They traced Elena’s vehicle to a lakeside house.
Arthur entered alone.
Chloe stood beside Elena.
Salvatore sat near the window.
Old.
Thin.
But unmistakable.
“Arthur.”
Arthur raised his gun.
Chloe stepped forward.
“No.”
“He killed Thomas.”
“Yes.”
“He killed Daniel.”
“Probably.”
Salvatore spoke.
“I did.”
Arthur’s finger tightened.
Chloe looked at him.
“Don’t let him decide who you become.”
Arthur lowered the gun.
Salvatore smiled faintly.
“Thomas’s daughter.”
“Not biologically.”
“No. But completely.”
Chloe’s eyes filled.
Salvatore admitted everything.
Daniel discovered the fraud.
Thomas helped him.
Michael planted the bomb.
Salvatore ordered it.
Then he ordered Thomas’s murder.
Years later, illness frightened him.
He staged his death and disappeared.
Elena found him months ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Arthur asked.
“I wanted proof before bringing him back.”
“You’re my mother.”
“I was afraid you’d kill him.”
Arthur looked at Salvatore.
“So was I.”
Salvatore coughed.
“You were always weak.”
Arthur stared.
Then smiled slightly.
“No.”
He took out his phone.
Police were already coming.
“I finally became strong enough not to need you dead.”
Salvatore’s expression changed.
For a man like him, that was worse.
He would live.
And answer publicly.
Arthur walked outside.
Chloe followed.
He stood overlooking the lake.
She took his hand.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
“My biological father died before I knew him. The man who raised me murdered him. My mother pretended to be dead. My brother’s children appeared out of nowhere.”
“Busy year.”
Arthur laughed despite himself.
Chloe rested her head against him.
“I want boring.”
“I can provide boring.”
“You own six armored cars.”
“Five.”
“You sold one?”
“No. Marco crashed it.”
“Progress.”
Arthur looked at her.
“I meant what I said.”
“About what?”
“Leaving that life.”
“You already started.”
“I want to finish.”
Arthur sold or closed every remaining operation dependent on coercion or violence.
Some men objected.
Arthur gave them severance.
Some enemies expected weakness.
Instead they discovered legitimacy made him harder to attack, not easier.
The Romano name changed slowly.
Not cleanly.
History couldn’t be erased.
But history could stop repeating.
A year after the cathedral wedding, Arthur took Chloe back there.
She carried Grace, now a laughing toddler.
“Why are we here?”
Arthur looked nervous.
Chloe noticed immediately.
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Federal indictment?”
“No.”
“Did you buy another armored car?”
“No.”
He knelt.
Chloe stared.
Grace clapped.
Arthur held out a ring.
“Chloe Henderson, I once made the worst decision of my life because I thought loving you meant choosing for you.”
Her eyes filled.
“I won’t do that again.”
He held the ring but did not reach for her hand.
“I’m asking.”
Chloe began crying.
“Will you marry me?”
She looked at the altar where another woman had once stood waiting for him.
Then at the aisle where she had collapsed.
Then at Grace.
“Yes.”
Arthur exhaled.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He stood and kissed her.
Grace shouted something that sounded like “Again!”
They laughed.
Arthur slipped the ring onto Chloe’s finger.
Then cathedral doors opened behind them.
Marco entered.
His expression was grim.
Arthur sighed.
“Please tell me nobody is poisoned.”
“No.”
“Kidnapped?”
“No.”
“Dead?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look like that?”
Marco handed him an envelope.
“No return address.”
Arthur opened it.
Inside was a photograph of the cathedral on his failed wedding day.
Someone had circled Chloe.
On the back was written:
SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE THE AISLE.
Arthur looked up.
Marco swallowed.
“There’s one person from Michael’s crew we never found.”
May you like
Then he said the name.
And Chloe dropped the photograph.
