Chapter 8 - Elena’s Real Father Was the Last Man Anyone Expected
We watched Marina’s recording at Veil House just before dawn.
Russo and Mercer were in custody.
The surviving captains had been separated.
Authorities had enough from the warehouse incident alone to hold several men while the larger financial evidence was reviewed.
For the first time since my father died, the house was quiet.
Elena sat beside me in the library.
Not at the far end of the table.
Beside me.
The video began.
Marina appeared young.
Terrified.
Pregnant.
My mother sat next to her.
Isabella Vale looked exactly as I remembered.
Elegant.
Calm.
Much stronger than the illness that would later take her.
Marina spoke first.
“If someone is watching this, things went wrong.”
Elena pressed her lips together.
I reached toward her hand.
Stopped.
She noticed.
Then placed her hand over mine herself.
The gesture was quiet.
Deliberate.
Whatever the tape revealed, she did not want to face it alone.
Marina continued.
“Dominic agreed to claim Elena if I died.”
Elena’s fingers tightened around mine.
“Her father is Daniel Marlo.”
Elena gasped.
Her surname.
Not an alias.
Her father’s actual name.
Marina smiled through tears.
“Daniel was my husband.”
Elena stared at the screen.
“I was married before I began working for the Vale companies. Daniel was a forensic accountant working with investigators on organized financial crime.”
I leaned forward.
That explained everything.
Marina had not stumbled into the Veil’s finances.
She had entered intentionally.
“My husband was killed 4 months before Elena was born.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Carlo Russo discovered Daniel was investigating him.”
Marina swallowed.
“Dominic helped me after Daniel died. He loved me, but I did not love him that way. He never asked me to.”
The recording shifted toward my mother.
Isabella spoke.
“Dominic is protecting Elena because Carlo believes Vale blood is more dangerous than a dead investigator’s child.”
I almost laughed at the perversity.
A false identity had saved Elena.
Carlo had spent years believing she might be a hidden Vale heir.
But her true danger had been different.
She was the daughter of 2 people who had gathered evidence against him.
Marina continued.
“The ledger contains what Daniel found and what I found afterward.”
Elena cried silently.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Tears simply moved down her face as she watched parents she had barely known explain why she had been left behind.
Then Marina said something I did not expect.
“Vincent is not responsible for my death.”
I went still.
Elena did too.
“He made mistakes. Terrible ones. But he tried to get me out.”
A pause.
“I refused.”
My mother looked toward Marina with sadness.
Marina smiled at her.
“I was angry. I wanted justice more than I wanted safety.”
She looked directly into the camera.
“If Elena ever sees this, sweetheart, do not make the same mistake.”
Elena covered her mouth.
“Justice matters.”
Marina’s voice trembled.
“But do not confuse justice with giving the people who hurt you the rest of your life.”
Elena began to sob.
I did not think.
I put my arm around her.
She turned into me.
For several minutes, we watched the rest of the recording like that.
Marina explained the false paternity documents.
Dominic had voluntarily signed them.
Vincent had financed Elena’s education after Marina’s death.
Isabella had insisted Elena remain outside the Vale world.
Then my mother spoke again.
“Damen may meet Elena one day.”
I looked at the screen.
My mother smiled.
“If he does, please God, let them meet as ordinary people.”
The irony hurt.
Nothing about us had been ordinary.
“Do not tell either child that they owe this family anything.”
My eyes burned.
I had not cried at my father’s funeral.
I had not cried when my mother died.
I came close now.
She had known.
All those years ago, she had wanted something different for me.
And for Elena.
The video ended.
The library remained silent.
Elena eventually whispered, “We’re not related.”
“No.”
She lifted her head from my shoulder.
A different kind of tension entered the room.
Almost embarrassing after everything else.
I removed my arm.
She noticed that too.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Move.”
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“You were supposedly my cousin 8 hours ago.”
“But I’m not.”
“No.”
Her eyes held mine.
“Then why did you move?”
I stood.
Because I had faced guns with more confidence than I could face that question.
She watched me cross toward the window.
“You’re afraid of me.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
I turned.
“You were kidnapped tonight.”
“I noticed.”
“You found out your entire childhood was built on false identities.”
“Yes.”
“My father died 3 days ago.”
“I know.”
“Russo tried to kill us.”
“Also aware.”
“And you want to discuss this?”
She stood.
“This?”
She walked toward me.
Slowly.
“Damen, for 3 years I scheduled your father’s meetings while you walked through this house pretending you didn’t notice me.”
“I noticed you.”
The admission escaped too quickly.
Elena stopped.
“How much?”
I looked away.
“Enough.”
“Very informative.”
“Elena.”
“No.”
Now she was smiling.
Actually smiling.
Despite the bruise.
Despite the night.
Despite all of it.
“You don’t get to spend every conversation interrogating me and then become mysterious when I ask 1 question.”
“I noticed you.”
“How much?”
“Too much.”
Her smile disappeared.
The room changed.
I stepped toward her.
“I knew when you changed perfume.”
Her breath caught.
“I knew you took coffee upstairs at 7:10 every morning but never drank it until 8 because my father made you read overnight reports first.”
Another step.
“I knew you hated Russo before you knew why because your shoulders tightened every time he entered a room.”
She whispered, “Damen.”
“I knew you always bought yourself a chocolate croissant on Fridays and hid it in the bottom desk drawer because my father complained about crumbs.”
She stared.
“You knew that?”
“Yes.”
“That’s disturbing.”
“I’m aware.”
She laughed softly.
I came close enough to touch her.
But did not.
“I noticed you.”
Her expression softened.
“For 3 years?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you worked for my father.”
“And after?”
“You were in his will.”
“That certainly ruined the mood.”
I laughed.
A real laugh.
The first since before my father died.
Then Elena did something more dangerous than anything Russo had done.
She placed 1 hand against my chest.
“Damen.”
“Yes?”
“When this is over, I’m leaving Veil House.”
The warmth vanished.
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because your father’s will said I had to remain until the directives were complete.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to leave.”
“It means I need to choose.”
I understood.
My father’s recorded instruction returned to me.
Give her a choice.
I nodded.
Even though every part of me wanted to tell her no.
“Then choose.”
She searched my face.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I go?”
I hated the answer.
“Yes.”
Something in her expression softened.
Then Gabriel entered.
He stopped when he saw how close we were.
“Bad time?”
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Elena said.
Gabriel ignored both answers.
“We found something in the financial ledger.”
I stepped away.
“What?”
“The Marlo trust isn’t $18.4 million.”
Elena sighed.
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
Gabriel handed her a statement.
“With appreciation and property gains, it’s worth closer to $41 million.”
Elena stared.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want it.”
Gabriel looked at me.
I said nothing.
Her choice.
Elena frowned at the paperwork.
“What am I supposed to do with $41 million?”
“For once,” I said, “whatever you want.”
She looked at me.
Then slowly smiled.
“I know exactly what I want.”
“What?”
“I want to use it to make sure women like my mother don’t have to choose between telling the truth and keeping their children alive.”
I stared at her.
There it was.
The difference between inheritance and destiny.
My father had left Elena money.
She had already decided to turn it into something he never managed to create.
Safety.
But our problems were not finished.
Gabriel’s phone rang.
He answered.
Then his face changed.
“Russo escaped transport.”
I stared.
“How?”
“We don’t know.”
Gabriel listened.
Then went pale.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“Elena’s apartment.”
“What about it?”
“There was an explosion 20 minutes ago.”
Elena froze.
“My apartment?”
Gabriel nodded.
“No one was inside.”
Her relief lasted 1 second.
Then Gabriel continued.
“But they found a message painted on the building across the street.”
He showed us a photograph.
Three words.
YOU TOOK EVERYTHING.
Below them:
NOW I WILL.
Russo had lost his captains.
His organization.
His money.
His leverage.
Which made him more dangerous than before.
A powerful man fears losing power.
May you like
A man with nothing left fears nothing.
And Michael Russo had just decided that if he could not inherit the Veil, he would burn down everyone who could.
