Chapter 7 - The Heir They Tried To Erase
Nobody spoke for almost a minute.
Leo stared at the DNA report.
Then at Salvatore.
“You’re my father.”
Salvatore’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
Leo frowned.
“You don’t look happy.”
Salvatore sat beside him.
“I’m trying to understand how I lost eleven years in one sentence.”
Leo’s eyes dropped.
“You didn’t know.”
“No.”
“My mother hid me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“That is what we need to discover.”
Barrett remained locked beneath the mansion.
Father Adrian finally told the full story.
Elena had been six months pregnant when she faked her death.
She believed someone inside the Moretti family had ordered her murder.
Daniel Mercer helped place her into federal protection.
Months later, Leo was born.
When Mercer was killed, Elena changed Leo’s age and identity to prevent anyone from tracing Salvatore’s missing heir.
“Why would someone care if Salvatore had a son?” Leo asked.
Carmine answered.
“Because blood matters in families like this.”
Salvatore shot him a look.
Carmine corrected himself.
“It shouldn’t.”
“But it does,” Leo said.
No one argued.
According to Moretti family trusts, a biological son of Salvatore inherited voting control of several legitimate companies if Salvatore died.
Someone had spent eleven years believing there was no heir.
Leo’s existence changed everything.
That afternoon, they went to Manhattan First National Bank.
Salvatore entered with Carmine, Leo and two lawyers.
Safe-deposit box 2147 waited beneath three layers of security.
The brass key fit.
Inside sat one envelope.
Nothing else.
Leo opened it.
His mother’s handwriting filled the first page.
My sweet Leo,
If you are reading this, then I failed to keep the past away from you.
Leo stopped.
His hands shook.
Salvatore reached toward the letter.
Leo pulled it away.
“I want to read it.”
Salvatore nodded.
Leo continued.
There is something I must tell you about your father.
He is not a good man in the way stories describe good men.
He has done terrible things.
But once, when I was young and foolish, I saw a part of him no one else was allowed to see.
A man who fed a stray dog in an alley when nobody was watching.
A man who sat beside his dying mother for six days without sleeping.
A man who once crossed New York at midnight because I told him I was afraid.
Salvatore turned away.
Leo kept reading.
I left because I discovered someone close to him was using his family to commit crimes even Salvatore would never permit.
I believed if I told him, he would confront the wrong person too soon and we would both die.
So I ran.
I was wrong to keep you from him.
For that, I hope one day you can forgive me.
Inside the envelope was a small memory card.
Carmine inserted it into an offline laptop.
Files appeared.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Photographs.
Recorded calls.
One folder was labeled THE CROWN.
Salvatore opened it.
Five photographs appeared.
Barrett Hayes.
Senator Charles Wynn.
Victor Bellini, boss of a rival family.
Deputy Commissioner Henry Lowe.
And a fifth man.
Salvatore stared.
“No.”
Carmine whispered, “Boss…”
The photograph showed Salvatore’s younger brother.
May you like
Marco Moretti.
The brother Salvatore believed had died seven years earlier.
