Chapter 14 - SAMUEL
Sebastian Hale had been registered Sebastian Samuel Hale.
He hated the middle name.
Richard used it only when angry.
Eleanor claimed it honored a grandfather.
There had been no grandfather named Samuel.
Another lie.
Marco explained.
Dominic believed the exchanged children retained one hidden birth name.
A name known only to the Keeper.
His was Daniel.
The Caruso child’s was Nicholas.
The Hale child’s—
Samuel.
Sebastian.
Samuel.
The first real identity he had ever possessed.
Sebastian stared at the table.
“So whoever gave me to Eleanor knew I would keep that name.”
“Yes,” Marco said.
“Why?”
“To find you later.”
Salvatore’s expression hardened.
A tag.
Not on the body.
Inside the family.
Eleanor had unknowingly repeated it for thirty-seven years.
Sebastian looked toward Salvatore.
“Then Gabriel—Daniel—could know who my real parents were.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
Salvatore thought of Lucia’s grave.
“He’ll contact us.”
He did before sunrise.
Not by phone.
A black car waited outside the Caruso estate gate.
Daniel sat inside.
Alone.
Salvatore entered the passenger seat.
“You’re becoming predictable,” Daniel said.
“You’re becoming irritating.”
“Lucia used to say that.”
Salvatore looked at him.
“Do not use her as a weapon.”
Daniel’s expression softened.
“I’m not.”
“You told me Sebastian was switched.”
“Yes.”
“You know his birth name.”
“Samuel.”
Sebastian had guessed correctly.
“Parents?”
Daniel looked out the windshield.
“One was Bellandi.”
Salvatore frowned.
“Which?”
“Not blood Bellandi. House Bellandi.”
“Stop talking like a priest.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“His father was Dominic.”
Salvatore stared.
“Marco’s brother.”
“Yes.”
“And mother?”
Daniel looked toward the Caruso house.
“Lucia’s sister.”
Salvatore froze.
Lucia had one younger sister.
Catherine.
She died during childbirth.
Or supposedly.
No.
Enough.
“You’re lying.”
“I wish.”
“If Sebastian is Catherine’s son, he is Clara’s cousin.”
“Second cousin through Lucia.”
Still related.
But not Luca’s direct line.
Not what Eleanor feared.
“And Nicholas?”
“Eleanor’s biological son.”
“Alive?”
Daniel hesitated.
Salvatore’s eyes hardened.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Daniel looked toward the rearview mirror.
“He’s already inside your house.”
Salvatore’s hand moved.
Daniel stopped him.
“Not as Nicholas.”
“Name.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Anthony Vale.”
Everything inside Salvatore went still.
No.
Anthony was older.
Wrong age.
Then Daniel continued.
“Not your Anthony.”
Salvatore stared.
“My brother Anthony died as a child.”
“What?”
“The man you call Anthony Vale is Nicholas Hale.”
Silence.
Salvatore could hear his own heartbeat.
“That’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
Anthony was fifty-three.
Close enough.
He had claimed a childhood in the House.
Claimed Daniel was his brother.
Claimed memories were broken.
All could be true.
Or all could be built.
“What happened to the real Anthony?” Salvatore asked.
Daniel looked away.
“Died during the escape.”
“You let Nicholas take his name.”
“I didn’t.”
“Who did?”
“Lucia.”
The betrayal hit physically.
Daniel continued.
“Nicholas was twelve. Terrified. The House was coming. Lucia gave him Anthony’s name because the real Anthony’s family had already fled.”
Salvatore closed his eyes.
The man who had stood beside him for decades.
His bodyguard.
His confidant.
The man who knew every door in his house.
Nicholas Hale.
Eleanor’s biological son.
Possibly Luca’s.
The fourth bloodline.
Inside his house.
Daniel spoke quietly.
“He grew up believing he was protecting you.”
“Does he know who he is?”
“Yes.”
Salvatore opened his eyes.
“For how long?”
“Always.”
His hand clenched.
“Why stay?”
“To keep the House away.”
“By lying to me for thirty years.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone has an excuse.”
Daniel looked at him.
“This one may have saved Clara.”
Salvatore turned sharply.
“What?”
“Nicholas learned three months ago the House had reactivated.”
“When Clara became pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“He told Eleanor?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“Graham.”
“Alive?”
Daniel smiled bitterly.
“For once, no.”
Salvatore almost laughed.
“Then who wore his face?”
“Keeper.”
“Name.”
Daniel looked directly at him.
“I don’t know.”
Salvatore’s patience snapped.
“You know everything until the one answer I need.”
“That is because the Keeper is never one person for long.”
“Then who is it now?”
Daniel looked toward the estate.
“I think Nicholas knows.”
Salvatore opened the door.
Daniel grabbed his arm.
“Do not confront him angry.”
Salvatore stared at the hand.
Daniel released him.
“You still think rage gets truth faster.”
“Sometimes.”
“Not from a man who spent thirty years expecting you to kill him when you learned his name.”
Salvatore stepped out.
Inside the estate, Anthony was waiting in the library.
Alone.
Salvatore closed the doors.
Anthony looked at him.
“You saw Daniel.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Salvatore took off his signet ring and placed it on the table.
“Who are you?”
Anthony closed his eyes.
Then:
“Nicholas Hale.”
The words did not surprise Salvatore.
Hearing them still hurt.
“You knew Luca?”
“Yes.”
“Was he your father?”
Anthony’s face tightened.
“I don’t know.”
“Eleanor?”
“My mother.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“Sebastian?”
“Not her son.”
“Yes.”
“Clara?”
Anthony looked down.
“I never wanted her involved.”
Salvatore laughed once.
The sentence was becoming hereditary.
“Yet she is.”
“Yes.”
“Who marked her ring?”
Anthony looked up.
“I did.”
Salvatore’s hand twitched.
“Why?”
“To make Eleanor act.”
“She tortured my daughter.”
“I thought fear would make her send Clara away.”
“You thought.”
Anthony accepted the accusation.
“The House had already chosen the baby.”
Salvatore’s eyes hardened.
“Who is Keeper?”
Anthony said nothing.
Salvatore stepped closer.
“Nicholas.”
Anthony looked toward the ceiling.
Clara slept above them.
“The Keeper is in this house.”
Salvatore went still.
“Who?”
Anthony whispered:
May you like
“Someone Clara trusts more than any of us.”
Then the lights went out.
