Chapter 7
Helen refused to explain.
That gave Trent something new to hate.
He had spent years believing he possessed the entire secret.
Now he realized he only had pieces.
Alessio watched him carefully.
“What does the letter say?”
Trent’s jaw tightened.
“That Gabriele and my mother were together before she married my father.”
Helen closed her eyes.
Sylvia looked toward Gabriele.
The older man remained motionless.
Trent continued.
“That he sent money afterward because he felt guilty.”
Alessio looked at Helen.
“That all?”
Her breath caught.
Trent turned.
“What?”
Helen’s hands began trembling.
“Nothing.”
“No.”
Trent’s voice hardened.
“You've lied enough.”
For once, the arrogance turned toward his own mother.
Helen looked at him.
Her eyes filled.
Gabriele stepped forward.
“Leave her.”
Trent laughed.
“Why?”
Then his expression changed.
He looked between them.
A long silence.
Sylvia saw it first.
Her good hand slowly rose to her mouth.
Alessio saw it next.
Trent’s breathing stopped.
“No.”
Helen looked away.
Trent stared at her.
“No.”
His voice was quieter.
“Mom.”
She could not answer.
Gabriele finally did.
“Trent.”
The single word carried too much.
Trent moved.
Fast.
A bodyguard caught him before he reached Gabriele.
Trent fought against the grip.
“What did you do?”
Helen began crying.
Not theatrically.
Her shoulders simply gave.
Gabriele looked at Trent.
For the first time that night, the consigliere’s voice cracked.
“I didn't know until you were nine.”
Trent stopped fighting.
The room went silent.
Alessio felt the secret settle over everyone.
Gabriele continued.
“Helen told me after you were hospitalized.”
Trent stared at him.
“My father…”
Gabriele looked down.
“Charles Walsh raised you.”
“That wasn't the question.”
Trent’s voice rose.
“Was he my father?”
Helen whispered:
“No.”
Trent’s face emptied.
Sylvia closed her eyes.
This was not the major answer yet.
Only the edge of it.
Gabriele was Trent’s biological father.
The man Alessio trusted most had secretly protected his own son for decades.
Every promotion.
Every second chance.
Every buried mistake now had to be reexamined.
Alessio looked at Gabriele.
“You recommended him for capo.”
“Yes.”
“You defended him after the Providence loss.”
“Yes.”
“You convinced me his accounting error was clerical.”
Gabriele’s eyes lowered.
“Yes.”
Each answer severed something.
Trent stared at Gabriele.
Not grateful.
Furious.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
Gabriele swallowed.
“Helen made me promise.”
Trent laughed once.
The sound was empty.
Then turned toward Helen.
“You let me spend thirty-eight years calling another man Dad.”
Helen covered her mouth.
Trent’s eyes hardened.
“And you wonder why I take what I want.”
Alessio watched him.
There it was.
A new justification forming in real time.
A secret becoming a weapon.
Then Mateo’s phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“Boss…”
Alessio turned.
“The forensic team reconstructed the archive access.”
A pause.
“Gabriele’s credentials were used.”
Gabriele shut his eyes.
Mateo continued.
“But not from Gabriele’s device.”
Everyone looked toward Trent.
“From Helen’s home computer.”
May you like
The secret of Trent’s bloodline had not merely been hidden.
Someone had been using it to impersonate Gabriele for months.
