Chapter 7 - SINS IN THE BLOOD
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the storm outside seemed to hold its breath. Norah stared at the crippled old man in the wheelchair. "No. That’s impossible. My parents died in a car crash. Rosa was my grandmother." Salvatore shook his head slowly. He patted the iron box in his lap. Dominic, bleeding and pale, crawled toward his father and reached into the box. He pulled out the final letter at the bottom. It was sealed with wax, unaddressed. Dominic broke the seal and unfolded the brittle paper. He read it silently, his jaw tightening so hard Norah thought his teeth would crack. He looked up at Norah. "She lied to you to protect you," Dominic said, his voice hollow. "Rosa wasn't your grandmother. She was your mother." Norah felt the floor tilt beneath her feet. "No. I’m twenty-six. You’re in your thirties. If Rosa left when you were a baby..." "She didn't leave alone," Dominic read from the letter. "She was pregnant when she fled. She took the deal to protect the unborn child from Vincenzo. She raised you as her granddaughter to hide your true identity from the mob. If anyone came looking for Rosa’s daughter, they would find nothing. They were looking for a thirty-year-old woman, not a young girl." Norah collapsed onto the leather sofa. She looked at Salvatore. The cruel, terrifying mafia boss—the monster she had been hired to care for—was her father. "You knew," Norah whispered to Salvatore. Salvatore nodded slowly. A single tear escaped his good eye. He forced his hand up, pointing to his chest. I knew. "He knew she was alive," Dominic realized aloud, staring at his father in shock. "You let the family think you killed her. You took the hatred. You let me hate you my entire life... so Vincenzo would stop hunting her." Salvatore looked at his son. For the first time, there was no anger in the old man's gaze. Only profound sorrow. "All this time," Dominic choked out, dropping the letter. "I tortured you. I treated you like a dog. And you were protecting us." Before the heavy emotional weight could settle, the reinforced windows of the study exploded inward. Tear gas canisters hit the floor, hissing thick, blinding white smoke into the room. "Get down!" Dominic roared. He grabbed Leo, shielding the boy with his body. Norah fell to her knees, coughing violently, her eyes burning. The heavy doors of the study were blown off their hinges. Men in tactical gear swarmed the room. Through the smoke stepped Vincenzo. He was an older man, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, leaning on a gleaming silver cane. His face was a mask of aristocratic cruelty. "Enough of this tragic family reunion," Vincenzo said, his raspy voice cutting through the chaos. He stepped over the wreckage and looked down at Salvatore in the wheelchair. "Hello, brother. I've come to take my family back." Vincenzo raised his silver cane. A hidden blade slid from the tip, catching the dim light. He aimed it directly at Salvatore’s throat. "And this time, I leave no survivors."
