Chapter 3 - A Seat Beside the King
Penelope stared at the photograph until every sound inside the garage seemed to disappear.
She remembered the dress.
Tiny yellow flowers.
She remembered her mother holding her hand.
She remembered being told the man beside them in old photographs was a family friend.
But she had never seen this photograph.
“Who are you?” she asked.
The scarred man lowered the picture.
“Gabriel Moretti.”
Adrian's face remained hard.
“My uncle.”
Penelope looked between them.
“I thought he was dead.”
“So did I,” Adrian said.
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“My brother preferred it that way.”
“Vittorio?”
“Yes.”
Penelope's mind struggled to keep pace.
“Why?”
“Because I knew too much.”
Richard suddenly stepped backward.
Gabriel noticed.
“Well. Arthur Holloway's son.”
Richard went pale.
“You knew my father?”
“Knew him?” Gabriel chuckled. “Your father tried to kill me.”
Adrian's guards shifted.
Richard looked toward Penelope as though hoping she might somehow defend him.
She did not.
Gabriel's gaze returned to her.
“You look like Catherine.”
“Everyone keeps talking about my mother like you knew her better than I did.”
Gabriel's expression softened.
“In some ways, we did.”
Penelope hated that answer.
“You said my father is alive.”
Gabriel's smile disappeared.
“I said the man who fathered you may still be alive.”
“Name.”
Adrian turned to his uncle.
“Gabriel.”
“She has waited long enough.”
Penelope's voice sharpened.
“Name.”
Gabriel looked directly at her.
“Samuel Hayes.”
Penelope stopped.
“You said he was my mother's brother.”
Richard looked away.
Gabriel frowned.
“Who told you that?”
Penelope turned slowly toward Richard.
He backed away.
“You lied.”
“I repeated what I was told.”
“By whom?”
“My father.”
Gabriel laughed without humor.
“Arthur loved convenient stories.”
Penelope felt nauseated.
“So Samuel wasn't her brother.”
“No.”
“My mother's last name was Hayes because—”
“She married him.”
The words landed heavily.
Penelope closed her eyes.
Everything she knew about her childhood was disintegrating.
“What about David?”
“David Hayes was Samuel's cousin. After Samuel disappeared, David gave you his name publicly so no one would look further.”
“My mother married another man?”
“No.”
“What happened to David?”
Gabriel hesitated.
“He died protecting you.”
Penelope swallowed.
She remembered David vaguely.
Warm hands.
A brown leather jacket.
Humming while making pancakes.
She had been told he was her father.
Maybe biology no longer mattered.
“He was my father,” she whispered.
Gabriel nodded.
“In every way that counted.”
Adrian watched her carefully.
No pity.
She appreciated that.
Penelope opened her eyes.
“If Samuel is alive, where is he?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“That is the problem.”
“You don't know?”
“I know where he was twelve years ago.”
“Where?”
“Federal custody.”
Richard suddenly muttered a curse.
Gabriel looked at him.
“You know something?”
“No.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Richard.”
“I don't.”
Penelope walked toward her ex.
He had once made her feel physically enormous and emotionally small.
Tonight the illusion was gone.
He looked fragile.
“Every time somebody mentions my family, you panic.”
“I had nothing to do with what happened twenty years ago.”
“Maybe not. But your father did.”
Richard said nothing.
“And you spent three years dating me.”
His eyes flickered.
“That wasn't fake.”
“Wasn't it?”
“No.”
“Then why were my mother's belongings in your safe?”
“I didn't know they were there.”
Gabriel laughed.
“Wrong answer.”
Richard glared at him.
Penelope's voice remained calm.
“Why did you date me?”
Richard stared at her for a long moment.
Then some defensive wall collapsed.
“My father asked me to meet you.”
The truth hurt even though she had expected it.
“Why?”
“He wanted to know whether you remembered anything.”
“I was eight when my mother died.”
“He didn't know what she told you.”
“So you pretended to love me.”
“At first.”
Penelope's face hardened.
“At first?”
Richard's voice lowered.
“I did love you.”
She almost laughed.
“You spent years telling me nobody better would want me.”
“I was afraid you'd leave.”
“That isn't love.”
“I know that now.”
“Convenient.”
Richard stepped toward her.
Adrian moved instantly.
Penelope lifted one hand.
“I can handle him.”
Adrian stopped.
Richard looked at her.
“I was supposed to find the ring.”
She stared.
“You searched my things?”
“Yes.”
“My apartment?”
“Yes.”
“My mother's storage boxes?”
“Yes.”
Anger moved through Penelope, clean and hot.
“And when you didn't find it?”
“My father told me it must have disappeared.”
“So you stayed with me anyway.”
Richard looked ashamed.
“That part wasn't because of him.”
Penelope's voice broke slightly.
“You don't get credit for developing feelings after entering my life under false pretenses.”
Richard's eyes lowered.
She turned away.
Enough.
She looked at Gabriel.
“Why would my mother have a Moretti family ring?”
Gabriel and Adrian exchanged a glance.
Penelope caught it.
“No more protecting me.”
Gabriel exhaled.
“Your mother saved Vittorio's life.”
“How?”
“Twenty-seven years ago, someone inside our family planned to murder him and take control. Catherine found the financial transfers funding the assassins.”
“Because of the Hayes banking network?”
“Yes.”
“She warned him.”
“She did more than that. She moved money, created false accounts, and trapped the men financing the attack.”
Penelope looked at Adrian.
“My mother worked with your father.”
“Closely.”
“How closely?”
Gabriel's silence said enough.
Penelope felt strangely numb.
“Were they in love?”
Adrian looked uncomfortable.
Gabriel answered.
“Yes.”
Penelope stared at the velvet ring box.
“But she married Samuel.”
“Because she discovered she was pregnant.”
Everything stopped.
Adrian turned sharply.
“Gabriel.”
Penelope whispered, “Pregnant with whose child?”
Gabriel did not answer.
Penelope looked at Adrian.
His gray eyes showed the same shock she felt.
Gabriel continued slowly.
“Catherine never told us.”
Penelope's hand tightened around the box.
Richard suddenly laughed bitterly.
“This is unbelievable.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Speak carefully.”
“Why? Everybody's thinking it.”
Penelope knew what he meant.
She and Adrian.
Possible blood relation.
The idea made her stomach turn, especially after the strange pull she had felt toward him.
Gabriel seemed to understand.
“No.”
They looked at him.
“No what?” Penelope asked.
Gabriel's expression became serious.
“Adrian and Penelope are not related.”
“How can you know?”
“Because Vittorio wasn't your father.”
Penelope released a breath she had not realized she was holding.
Adrian seemed to do the same.
Gabriel looked between them.
“Samuel was.”
“Then why did my mother have the Moretti ring?”
“Because Vittorio gave it to her anyway.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to marry her.”
Penelope frowned.
“But she loved Samuel?”
“Yes.”
“So she refused.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Vittorio accepted it eventually. He told her to keep the ring because she'd earned something more valuable than marriage.”
“What?”
“His protection.”
Penelope looked down.
The diamond suddenly seemed much heavier.
A Moretti promise.
Not ownership.
Protection.
Adrian spoke quietly.
“My father never broke that kind of promise.”
“Then why did my mother die?”
Nobody answered.
That silence told Penelope the promise had failed.
Gabriel walked toward one of the SUVs.
“We cannot stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because the people who found Aurelia know you're alive.”
Penelope stared at him.
“I'm not exactly hiding. I've managed a public restaurant for four years.”
“They knew Penelope Hayes existed. They didn't know you were Catherine's daughter.”
“The forged financial transfer revealed it?”
“Yes.”
“Who made the transfer?”
“That is what we need to discover.”
Adrian looked at Richard.
Richard shook his head immediately.
“I didn't.”
“Your company did.”
“My father still has access.”
Gabriel's eyebrows rose.
“Arthur Holloway is alive?”
Richard stared at him.
“Yes.”
Gabriel looked at Adrian.
“That complicates things.”
Penelope almost laughed.
“More complicated than fake fathers, underground tunnels, mafia ledgers, and assassins?”
Gabriel smiled.
“Much.”
They entered the vehicles.
Penelope found herself sitting beside Adrian in the rear of a black SUV.
Richard was placed in another vehicle with Marco.
Emily was taken to a hospital under guard.
Gabriel sat opposite them.
As the convoy moved through Chicago, Penelope watched familiar streets pass behind tinted glass.
Twenty-four hours earlier, her largest concern had been whether the pastry supplier would deliver before lunch.
Now she was carrying a mafia heirloom while learning her childhood had been constructed from lies.
Adrian spoke quietly.
“You can still walk away.”
She turned.
“Can I?”
“From me. From my family.”
“But not from whoever is chasing the ledger.”
“No.”
“So that wasn't really an offer.”
“Fair.”
She studied him.
“Why did you come to Aurelia personally?”
“I wanted to see your reaction.”
“To what?”
“The transfer.”
“Why not call the police?”
His expression almost became amused.
“You know who I am.”
“Exactly why I asked.”
He looked toward the window.
“Because whoever forged those transactions had access to information law enforcement should not know.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It is.”
“And the ring?”
“I brought it because I believed Richard might react.”
“He did.”
“Yes.”
Penelope studied Adrian's profile.
“Did you know he would insult me?”
“No.”
“Were you angry?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at her.
“Shouldn't I have been?”
“That isn't an answer.”
A pause.
“He enjoyed hurting you.”
“Richard enjoys feeling superior.”
“He won't do it again.”
Penelope frowned.
“Don't threaten him for me.”
“I wasn't threatening him.”
“That sounded exactly like a threat.”
Adrian's eyes held hers.
“It was a prediction.”
Despite herself, she smiled.
A tiny smile.
His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth.
Then back to her eyes.
Something changed between them.
Quiet.
Dangerous in a completely different way.
Gabriel cleared his throat.
Penelope looked away.
The SUV entered a gated estate along Lake Michigan.
Not a castle.
Not the ridiculous fortress she expected from mafia stories.
A beautiful modern stone residence hidden behind old trees and discreet security.
Inside, staff seemed unsurprised by their arrival.
Adrian led Penelope to a library.
Gabriel spread documents across a table.
“The Hayes trust,” he explained.
Penelope stared at the paperwork.
“There really is money.”
“A lot.”
“How much?”
Gabriel named the number.
Penelope sat down.
“That's impossible.”
“Your mother locked it when you were eight.”
“Why didn't I inherit it at eighteen?”
“Because the trigger was not age.”
“What was it?”
Gabriel looked at Adrian.
Adrian looked irritated.
Penelope noticed.
“Oh, wonderful. Another secret.”
Gabriel continued.
“The trust releases only when two conditions are met.”
“What conditions?”
“First, Samuel Hayes must be confirmed dead or voluntarily relinquish his claim.”
“And second?”
Gabriel turned an old legal page toward her.
The language was dense.
Penelope scanned it.
Then froze.
“What does marital covenant mean?”
Adrian's expression darkened.
Gabriel sighed.
“It means your mother placed the assets under an old protection arrangement.”
Penelope looked at him.
“What protection arrangement?”
“A Moretti covenant.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You're going to explain that in normal English.”
Gabriel tapped the document.
“If the Hayes heir is threatened by someone seeking control of the trust, the head of the Moretti family may legally become co-trustee.”
“How?”
Gabriel hesitated.
Penelope already disliked the answer.
“By marriage.”
Silence.
She slowly looked at Adrian.
“No.”
Adrian immediately answered.
“Agreed.”
Gabriel leaned back.
“It was designed twenty years ago.”
“I don't care if it was designed in ancient Rome.”
Adrian almost smiled.
Penelope pointed at the contract.
“My mother expected me to marry a Moretti?”
“No,” Gabriel said. “She expected the covenant never to be needed.”
“Apparently she underestimated my talent for disaster.”
Adrian did smile this time.
She caught it.
“You find this funny?”
“No.”
“You're smiling.”
“I'm trying not to.”
Penelope stared at him.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.
One short laugh.
Because the alternative might have been screaming.
A phone rang.
Gabriel answered.
His face changed.
“Where?”
Adrian stood.
“What happened?”
Gabriel listened.
Then looked at Penelope.
“Arthur Holloway just disappeared.”
Richard's father.
Penelope's laughter died.
“Disappeared how?”
“His house was empty. Security cameras wiped.”
Adrian took the phone.
Gabriel continued.
“There was one thing left behind.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
Penelope's pulse accelerated.
“Of who?”
Gabriel looked at her.
“You.”
A knock sounded at the library door.
Adrian's guard entered.
“Sir. We found something in Richard Holloway's coat.”
He placed a small digital recorder on the table.
Penelope stared at it.
The guard pressed play.
Richard's voice filled the room.
“She still doesn't know why Catherine was killed.”
Then another voice answered.
A voice Penelope recognized.
Her own father—or the man she had spent her childhood believing was dead.
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Penelope stood so quickly her chair crashed backward.
The recorder continued.
“And if Adrian Moretti finds her?”
A pause.
May you like
Then the voice said:
“Kill him before he tells her who ordered her mother's death.”
