Chapter 5 - The Bride’s Choice
Serafina Conti had once been Luca Romano’s godmother.
She had also been dead for eleven years.
At least according to family records.
Luca stared at the security image.
“This is becoming a cemetery reunion.”
Isabella did not smile.
“Serafina was never confirmed dead.”
“You attended her funeral too?”
“I was already gone.”
Marco looked at Isabella.
“Who was she?”
“My closest friend.”
“And the initials?”
“S.C.”
Luca’s voice was flat.
“Elena thought they meant Sofia Caruso.”
“I know.”
“Did Serafina kill my father?”
Isabella looked toward Emma.
“Not here.”
Luca nearly exploded.
“You disappear for thirty years, then return because somebody tries to destroy my family, and now you want privacy?”
“I want a six-year-old child not to hear things she shouldn't.”
That stopped him.
Elena touched Luca’s arm.
“She’s right.”
Emma looked between them.
“I already know bad people exist.”
Elena crouched.
“You shouldn't have to know more.”
Gabriel arranged a secure room upstairs.
Elena and Emma remained under guard.
Luca, Isabella, Marco, and Carlo stayed in the wine cellar.
Isabella began.
“Serafina Conti worked beside your father long before I met him. She handled money, relationships, information. People underestimated her because she was a woman in a world run by men.”
“What changed?”
“She wanted control.”
“Of the Romano organization?”
“Of all of them.”
Marco leaned forward.
“How?”
“By making every family dependent on crises only she could solve.”
Luca understood.
“She created problems, then sold solutions.”
“Yes.”
“And Vittorio?”
“Partner at first.”
“Then rival?”
“Eventually.”
Isabella explained that Serafina had spent decades building connections through intermediaries.
Shipping brokers.
Lawyers.
Union representatives.
Security contractors.
Nothing glamorous.
Nothing obvious.
She didn't need to become a don.
She only needed dons to make decisions she could predict.
“When your father discovered it,” Isabella said, “he planned to expose her.”
“So she killed him.”
Isabella nodded.
The confirmation landed quietly.
Luca sat back.
He had been twenty-eight when his father died.
He remembered the hospital.
Marco standing in the hallway.
Sofia’s father sending flowers.
Serafina already supposedly dead.
Everything had been staged years in advance.
“Why didn't you come back?”
“Because I had no proof.”
“You had me.”
“I had a son I wanted alive.”
Luca looked away.
He wanted to hate her.
Part of him did.
But another part remembered being fourteen.
Remembered his mother's hand fixing his tie before school.
Remembered the smell of her perfume.
Memory made anger complicated.
Carlo interrupted.
“We need to recover the box.”
“Track Serafina.”
“We are.”
A door opened above.
Sofia entered.
Marco immediately stood.
“How did she get here?”
Sofia raised both hands.
“Your guards brought me.”
Luca faced her.
“You disappeared.”
“I went to my father.”
“Why?”
“To find out whether he ordered the attack.”
“And?”
“He didn't.”
“You believe him?”
“No.”
That answer surprised Luca.
Sofia looked at Isabella.
“So it's true.”
Isabella studied her.
“You have your father's eyes.”
Sofia gave a bitter laugh.
“I've spent my life being told that was a compliment.”
Luca stepped closer.
“Did you know my mother was alive?”
“No.”
“Gabriel?”
“No.”
“Serafina?”
Sofia went still.
Luca saw it.
“You knew her.”
“I met a woman using the name Serena Cole.”
Isabella inhaled.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Where?”
“My father's house.”
Sofia looked at Luca.
“She told me she was a political consultant.”
“What did she want?”
“To know whether I was interested in marrying you.”
The room changed.
Luca stared at Sofia.
“Our marriage was proposed two years ago.”
“I know.”
“So Serafina planned it first.”
Sofia nodded slowly.
“I think so.”
Marco cursed.
Sofia continued.
“She told me marrying you could unite the Caruso and Romano families.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“She also told me peace would make us the strongest organization on the coast.”
“And?”
“She said strong alliances eventually need one leader.”
Luca understood.
“You.”
“No.”
“Your father?”
“No.”
Sofia looked at Isabella.
“She meant herself.”
Silence.
Sofia took off her diamond bracelet.
She placed it on the table.
“Emma saw this.”
Luca nodded.
“I was in the kitchen hallway.”
Marco stepped forward.
“So you lied.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I followed my father’s driver.”
“What did you hear?”
“Serafina speaking with someone.”
“Who?”
“I never saw.”
“What did they say?”
Sofia swallowed.
“‘Romano dies first. The five blame him second.’”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
“Why didn't you warn me?”
Sofia looked ashamed.
“Because Serafina caught me.”
Isabella stiffened.
“What did she do?”
“Nothing. She smiled.”
“That was worse.”
“Yes.”
Sofia touched the empty space on her wrist.
“She told me if I warned Luca, my father would be arrested for enough crimes to spend the rest of his life in prison.”
Marco scoffed.
“That frightened you?”
“No.”
“What did?”
“She showed me pictures of Emma.”
Elena’s daughter again.
Luca felt anger rise.
“Why Emma?”
Sofia looked at him.
“I didn't know.”
Isabella did.
Luca saw it.
“Mother.”
She looked at him.
“Why Emma?”
Isabella remained silent.
Luca’s voice sharpened.
“Why does everyone keep protecting this one secret?”
Sofia looked between them.
“Luca, I think Elena needs to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
A small voice came from the stairs.
“She says you're my daddy.”
Everyone turned.
Emma stood there.
Elena was behind her.
White-faced.
Frozen.
Luca forgot every other person in the room.
Emma looked at him.
“My mama says you’re not supposed to know.”
Elena closed her eyes.
Luca stared at her.
“What did she say?”
Emma repeated innocently.
“That you're my daddy.”
Luca’s entire world stopped.
Elena rushed forward.
“Emma, sweetheart—”
“No.”
Luca’s voice silenced the room.
He looked at Elena.
“Is she?”
Elena's lips trembled.
“Luca.”
“Is Emma my daughter?”
Sofia backed away.
Marco looked stunned.
Isabella covered her mouth.
Emma stood between all of them, confused.
Elena finally nodded.
“Yes.”
The word hit harder than any bullet Luca had ever survived.
He looked at Emma.
Six years old.
Dark curls.
Brown eyes.
The faint crease between her eyebrows whenever she worried.
His crease.
He had seen it a hundred times.
Never recognized it.
“Six years,” he whispered.
Elena began crying silently.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“When it was safe.”
“Safe?”
“You were at war.”
“So you let my daughter grow up three floors below me?”
“You didn't know me then.”
“I knew you.”
“You knew the woman who cleaned your office.”
“I knew enough.”
“No, Luca. You knew nothing.”
Emma looked frightened.
Luca forced himself to breathe.
He crouched.
“Emma.”
She stared at him.
“Are you mad?”
The question nearly broke him.
“No.”
“At Mama?”
Luca looked at Elena.
Then back at Emma.
“No.”
Emma frowned.
“You look mad.”
“I’m surprised.”
“Is surprised bad?”
“Not always.”
“Are you really my daddy?”
Luca could not answer immediately.
Elena whispered, “Yes, sweetheart.”
Emma looked back at Luca.
Then slowly smiled.
It was tiny.
Uncertain.
But it changed his life.
“Does that mean I can call you Dad?”
Luca closed his eyes for one second.
When he opened them, the most feared man in New York was fighting tears.
“If you want.”
Emma stepped forward.
Luca expected a hug.
Instead, she whispered, “Then Dad, somebody is standing behind that door.”
Everyone turned.
The metal door to the service tunnel was opening.
A woman entered carrying Elena’s blue box.
May you like
Serafina Conti smiled.
And said, “Now that the family reunion is complete, perhaps Luca should learn which woman actually placed the device under his desk.”
