Chapter 3 - The Baptism Record
Frank swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead as the cold steel of Dante’s pistol pressed against his skin.
“Dante, please,” Frank begged, his voice cracking.
“Who signed it, Dante?” Don Lorenzo demanded, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. The old man was gripping his chest, his breathing becoming shallow, but his eyes were fixed on the young bodyguard.
Dante reached into his inner pocket with his free hand. He pulled out a folded, yellowed piece of paper. It was fragile, crumbling at the edges.
He dropped it onto Antonio’s empty plate.
Antonio, still clutching his stomach in pain, unfolded it with shaking hands.
It was a hospital transfer form from twenty-five years ago. It authorized the removal of a "deceased" infant to a state-run orphanage under a John Doe alias.
At the bottom was a signature.
Antonio stared at it, his face draining of whatever color it had left.
“It was Frank,” Antonio whispered.
Carmela whipped her head around to look at her husband. “What? I told you to burn the records, you idiot!”
“I didn't keep it!” Frank cried out, his hands raised in surrender. “I swear, Carmela, I paid the doctor and destroyed the files just like you asked!”
“Then how did Dante get it?” Leo asked, stepping closer to his twin brother.
Dante didn't lower the gun. “Because the doctor you paid was my foster father. He kept the record. He raised me in the shadows, knowing exactly who my real family was. He told me everything on his deathbed ten years ago.”
Elena stood up, taking a tentative step toward Dante. “Your foster father... Dr. Rossi? The man who delivered you?”
“Yes,” Dante said, his jaw tight. “He saved my life. Because Carmela didn't just pay him to hide me, Elena. She paid him to smother me in the crib.”
A collective gasp filled the room.
Carmela stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the mahogany sideboard. “That’s a lie! I just wanted the Moretti bloodline diluted. One heir was dangerous enough, but twins? I knew Papa would never let me rule if there were two strong boys to take over.”
“You ordered my death,” Dante said, his gray eyes flashing with a terrifying emptiness. “And Frank here was the one who handed Rossi the pillow.”
Frank began to sob. “I couldn't do it! I couldn't kill a baby. I told Rossi to take you far away. I saved you, Dante!”
“You saved yourself from a guilty conscience,” Dante spat.
He finally lowered the weapon, disgusted. He looked at Don Lorenzo.
“I became your bodyguard three years ago, old man, because I wanted to watch this family tear itself apart from the inside. I wanted to see the great Bellandi empire crumble.”
Don Lorenzo was swaying on his feet. His face was gray, a sheen of cold sweat covering his brow.
“You... you knew they were poisoning Antonio?” Lorenzo gasped, clutching his chest tighter.
“I found out three weeks ago,” Dante admitted, looking at his brother, Leo. “I was going to let Antonio die. I figured it was exactly what this family deserved.”
Antonio looked down at the table, utterly broken. His wife was a cheater. His sister was a murderer. The boys he had raised and protected weren't his.
“Then why didn't you let me die?” Antonio asked softly.
“Because of Leo,” Dante said, looking at his twin. “I followed him one night. I watched him with his baby boy. I saw the kind of father he was. He broke the cycle. He actually loves that kid.”
Dante reached out and picked up the half of the St. Christopher medal he had thrown on the table.
“I couldn't let Carmela take his father away,” Dante said. “Even if Antonio isn't his real blood.”
Suddenly, Lorenzo let out a sharp, agonizing gasp.
The patriarch’s knees buckled.
He collapsed forward, crashing onto the dining table, shattering plates and sending wine glasses flying.
“Grandpa!” Leo shouted, rushing forward.
Antonio tried to stand, but the poison in his system flared, and he fell to his knees in agony.
As Lorenzo lay gasping on the ruined table, his hand reached desperately toward Leo.
He opened his trembling fingers.
Sitting in his palm was a heavy, ornate brass key.
“Take it,” Lorenzo wheezed, blood flecking his lips. “The vault... under the house. Before she... before she finds it.”
Lorenzo’s eyes rolled back, and he went completely still.
May you like
And from the hallway, a woman’s voice rang out, cold and clear.
“Nobody is going anywhere.”
