Chapter 5 - THE SIGNET RING
“He’s yours.”
The crystal wineglass slipped from Cassandra’s hand, shattering against the hardwood floor. The red wine bled into the Persian rug like a fresh wound.
Adrian stood paralyzed, his eyes locked on the heavy gold signet ring resting in June’s weathered palm.
“That’s impossible,” Adrian whispered, his voice stripped of its usual authority. “I don't have a son.”
“You do,” June said softly, her anger fading into deep sorrow. “He’s eight years old. He has your eyes, Adrian. And your father’s temper.”
“You’re lying,” Cassandra hissed, stepping forward, her red heels crunching over the broken glass. “This is a pathetic attempt to extort money. Adrian has been with me for three years. Before that, he was entirely focused on the business.”
“Before you, there was Elena,” June said quietly.
The name hit Adrian like a physical blow. He staggered back, resting a hand on the mahogany dining table to steady himself. Elena. The woman he had loved in secret, a civilian completely unconnected to the mafia world, who had died tragically in a hit-and-run accident eight years ago.
“Elena died,” Adrian choked out. “She was pregnant, yes, but she died in the crash. The doctors said the baby didn't survive.”
“The doctors lied,” Daniel confessed.
Adrian whipped his head toward his brother, pure, unrestrained violence flashing in his eyes. “What did you just say?”
Daniel shrank back against the wall. “It wasn't my idea! It was Dad’s!”
Aunt Evelyn banged her cane on the floor. “Quiet, Daniel! Do not speak ill of the dead!”
“The dead ruined my life!” Daniel screamed back, the years of repressed resentment finally boiling over. He looked at Adrian, tears streaming down his face. “Dad found out about Elena. He knew she was pregnant. He knew that if you had a child with an outsider, it would make you vulnerable to the rival families. A boss can’t have a secret civilian family.”
“So he orchestrated the crash?” Adrian asked, his voice lethally calm.
“No,” June intervened, stepping between the brothers. “Your father didn't cause the crash, Adrian. It was a genuine accident. But when Elena was brought to the hospital… your father used his influence. Elena didn't survive the trauma. But the baby did.”
Adrian’s breath hitched. “My son lived.”
“Your father paid the doctors to tell you the baby died,” June explained, her voice steady but full of grief. “He planned to put the boy in an orphanage in another state. To erase him.”
“But he didn't,” I said, piecing it together. I looked at June. “You took him.”
June nodded. “I heard your father making the arrangements in his study. I couldn't let it happen. I took the baby from the private maternity ward that night. I gave him to my niece in Ohio. She raised him as her own.”
Adrian looked down at the child’s drawing in his hand. The crude crayon figures. To Daddy, from Leo.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Adrian asked, a tear finally escaping and tracing down his cheek. “For eight years, I mourned them both. Why did you keep my son from me, June?”
“Because of her,” June said, pointing directly at Aunt Evelyn.
Evelyn stiffened, her chin jutting into the air. “I have no idea what this insolent woman is talking about.”
“When your father died,” June said, ignoring Evelyn’s protests, “I was going to tell you, Adrian. I was going to bring Leo home. But then I found the emerald bracelet in your father’s study on the night he was poisoned. Evelyn’s bracelet.”
Reversal.
Daniel hadn't lied about the bracelet. He had lied about why he dug it up.
“I buried it to protect the family,” June confessed. “I knew if the police found it, the Moretti family would be torn apart by a murder investigation. But I also knew the truth: Evelyn killed your father to take control of the family trusts.”
“Lies!” Evelyn shrieked, looking remarkably spry for an eighty-year-old.
“If I brought Leo back,” June said, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper, “he would be the true heir. Evelyn would have seen him as a threat. She would have killed an eight-year-old boy without a second thought to protect her money. I had to keep him hidden.”
Adrian stared at his aunt. The woman who had baked them cookies. The woman who had wiped their tears when their mother supposedly died.
“Margaret,” Adrian said quietly. “Lock the doors.”
I walked to the dining room doors and turned the heavy brass key. The click echoed like a gunshot in the silent room.
Cassandra suddenly laughed. It was a dry, hollow sound.
“Well,” Cassandra said, picking up a napkin to wipe a drop of wine from her gown. “This is quite the family soap opera. But unfortunately, June, your little plan failed.”
We all looked at her.
Cassandra smiled, pulling a sleek black smartphone from her clutch.
“You did a wonderful job hiding Leo,” Cassandra said, her eyes gleaming with malice. “But Bellweather Development doesn't just buy real estate. We also run background checks on the people sitting on the properties we want. My investigators tracked your niece down in Ohio three days ago.”
Adrian lunged forward. “Where is my son, Cassandra?”
May you like
Cassandra held up a hand, her thumb hovering over the phone’s screen.
“He’s perfectly safe, darling,” Cassandra purred. “Sitting in the back of a black SUV about a mile from here. And he’ll stay safe, as long as you sign the entire Moretti estate over to me tonight.”
