THE WAITRESS, THE WINE, AND THE MAFIA BOSS'S LOST SON

"Dr. Hale is dead," I said, stepping out of the SUV into the freezing rain. "You killed him ten years ago at the South Side docks."

Dominic didn't look at me. He stared up at the massive stained-glass windows of the cathedral.

"I ordered the hit ten years ago," Dominic corrected, water dripping from his dark hair. "I didn't pull the trigger. Anthony did."

Nicholas stepped out beside his father. He looked at the cathedral, his face pale. "Anthony lied about that, too?"

"Anthony has lied about everything," Dominic said, walking toward the heavy oak doors of the church. "He told me Elias Hale died begging for mercy. But Elias didn't die. Anthony hid him. Just like he hid you."

I grabbed Grace’s hand and followed them inside.

The cathedral was pitch black, lit only by dozens of votive candles flickering near the altar. The air smelled of incense and damp stone.

"Elias!" Dominic’s voice boomed through the empty sanctuary.

Silence answered him.

Dominic cocked his pistol. The metallic click echoed sharply.

"I know you're here, Elias," Dominic called out. "Victoria's lawyer posted her bail an hour ago. She thinks she won. She thinks she's coming here to celebrate taking the Caruso empire. But I got here first."

From the shadows near the confessional booths on the left side of the nave, a figure slowly stepped into the candlelight.

It was an old man, easily in his late seventies. He was confined to a wheelchair, wrapped in a heavy wool blanket. A nasal oxygen tube ran across his face.

Dr. Elias Hale. The ghost of the Chicago underworld.

"Dominic Caruso," Elias rasped, his voice weak but laced with venom. "I knew you were too stubborn to die from a little poison."

Dominic walked down the center aisle, keeping his gun aimed squarely at the old man's chest.

"You orchestrated tonight," Dominic said. "You used Victoria to infiltrate my home. You paid Anthony to poison me."

Elias wheezed a dry laugh. "Anthony didn't need much convincing. He's hated you since you took over the family instead of him. But yes, I funded it. It's only fair, Dominic. You took my empire. I take yours."

"You took my wife," Dominic growled, stepping within five feet of the wheelchair. "Elena came to you for medical help when she couldn't get pregnant. And you took advantage of her."

Elias looked at Dominic with pure, unadulterated pity.

"Take advantage of her?" Elias scoffed. "Dominic, you really are blind. Elena didn't come to me because she couldn't get pregnant. She came to me because she was pregnant."

Dominic froze. "What?"

I felt Grace squeeze my hand tight.

"Elena wasn't having an affair with me, you fool," Elias said, leaning forward in his wheelchair. "She was having an affair with Anthony. Nicholas is Anthony's son."

The silence in the cathedral was deafening.

"The DNA test said Anthony wasn't the father," I said, stepping forward out of the shadows.

Elias looked at me, narrowing his eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm the waitress who ruined your night," I said coldly. "The police ran a DNA test an hour ago. Nicholas is not Anthony's son. He's not Dominic's son. And according to the birth certificate my daughter found, you delivered him."

Elias stared at me, then looked at Nicholas. A strange, twisted smile spread across the old man's face.

"Ah," Elias breathed. "I see. Anthony didn't tell you the whole truth, did he?"

"What truth?" Nicholas demanded, stepping past his father. "Who am I?"

Elias looked at the young man, his eyes tracing the crescent-shaped birthmark beneath Nicholas's left ear.

"You really don't know?" Elias asked, almost gently. "That birthmark... it's a genetic trait. My father had it. I have it."

Elias reached up and pulled back the collar of his hospital gown, revealing a faded, crescent-shaped mark beneath his own ear.

Nicholas stumbled backward as if he'd been shot.

"You aren't my grandson, Nicholas," Elias whispered. "You're my son."

Dominic dropped his gun to his side, the sheer magnitude of the betrayal washing over him.

"Elena..." Dominic choked out.

"Elena was a pawn," Elias said coldly. "She couldn't give you an heir. So Anthony brought her to me. We struck a deal. I would give her a child—my child—to pass off as yours, securing the Caruso bloodline with Hale blood. In exchange, Anthony would let me operate on the South Side without interference."

"But Elena backed out," Dominic realized, staring at the floor. "She couldn't live with the lie."

"She was weak," Elias sneered. "She wanted to confess. So Anthony handled it. He cut the brakes. And I took my son back."

Before anyone could speak, the heavy oak doors of the cathedral slammed open.

Victoria walked in.

She was no longer wearing the torn red silk gown. She wore a sharp black trench coat, and she was holding a suppressed submachine gun. Behind her stood six men heavily armed.

"Enough storytelling, Father," Victoria said, her voice echoing in the sanctuary. "The police are tearing the city apart looking for them. We end this now."

She raised her weapon and pointed it directly at Dominic.

"Goodbye, darling," Victoria smiled.

"Victoria, wait!" Elias yelled from his wheelchair. "Don't shoot the boy! Nicholas is your brother!"

Victoria didn't even look at her father. She kept her eyes locked on Dominic.