Chapter 6
Dominic Romano had never married.
That was family legend.
A bachelor.
Elegant.
Always traveling.
Always surrounded by people but belonging to none.
After Mateo disappeared, Dominic became Salvatore’s closest adviser.
Sebastian slowly withdrew.
Then left.
Dominic grew stronger.
Dante had forgotten how much.
Clara saw the pattern first.
“If Mateo and Sebastian left together, Dominic gained both positions.”
Dante nodded.
“Possible.”
Javier’s expression hardened.
“Not possible.”
He looked at Dante.
“Obvious.”
Dante did not argue.
This time, it was.
Teresa continued.
“Dominic wanted Sebastian.”
Javier frowned.
“Romantically?”
“No.”
“Power.”
Dominic believed Sebastian’s intelligence was wasted beneath Salvatore.
He wanted Sebastian attached to him.
Sebastian refused.
Then Mateo and Sebastian planned their escape.
Dominic learned.
He told Salvatore.
Perhaps to stop them.
Perhaps to destroy Mateo.
Perhaps both.
“What happened the night Mateo vanished?” Javier asked.
Teresa looked toward the fireplace.
“I heard shouting.”
“Where?”
“Salvatore’s old study.”
“Who?”
“Salvatore. Dominic. Sebastian.”
“Mateo?”
“No.”
“Did you hear words?”
“One.”
“What?”
“Boy.”
Javier frowned.
“What boy?”
Teresa looked at Dante.
“I always thought they meant you.”
Dante went still.
“Why?”
“Dominic said, ‘If Mateo leaves, tell the boy the truth.’”
“What truth?”
“I never knew.”
Again.
Javier laughed bitterly.
“This family should have built a second dining room just for things nobody knew.”
No one smiled.
Dante remembered the altered date beneath his childhood whistle.
1977 changed to 1979.
The year Mateo formally joined Salvatore.
The word boy.
His name.
Maybe the succession mystery began earlier than adulthood.
“Where is Dominic buried?” Clara asked.
Javier looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because everyone here believes graves.”
That line landed.
Dominic’s funeral had been open casket.
Dante remembered.
He had seen the body.
Real.
So Dominic likely was dead.
Good.
At least one ghost stayed buried.
“What did Dominic die from?” Clara asked.
“Stroke,” Dante said.
Teresa shook her head.
“No.”
Dante turned.
“What?”
“Family story.”
Of course.
Teresa continued.
“Sebastian came back.”
“When?”
“Fifteen years ago.”
“The night Dominic died.”
Javier stared.
“Sebastian killed him.”
“I don’t know.”
Dante closed his eyes.
The phrase remained useful.
“What do you know?”
“Dominic sent for me.”
Teresa found him in a private room.
He was conscious.
Terrified.
Not physically injured.
Sebastian had been there minutes earlier.
Dominic kept saying:
“He found Mateo.”
Then:
“The son knows.”
“Which son?” Dante asked.
Teresa shook her head.
“Dominic died before he explained.”
Javier stood.
“My father was alive fifteen years ago.”
“Maybe.”
He turned angrily toward Dante.
“Don’t.”
Clara stepped between.
“No.”
Javier looked at her.
“You don’t get to attack the word because you hate uncertainty.”
His face changed.
Clara continued.
“That exact weakness made you put your knee on Leo.”
Silence.
Javier looked away.
Shame returned.
This time he let it stay.
Dante asked Teresa:
“What did Sebastian do after Dominic died?”
“Left again.”
“Did you tell Salvatore?”
“He was already dead.”
True.
Salvatore died seventeen years ago.
Dominic two years later.
Dante had been boss by then.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Teresa looked at him.
“Because Dominic told me not to.”
Dante almost laughed.
“Twenty-seven years of grown people obeying dead men.”
Teresa flinched.
Fair.
Then her phone rang.
She frowned.
Unknown number.
Dante nodded for speaker.
A man spoke.
“Teresa.”
She went pale.
“Sebastian?”
“Yes.”
Javier stepped closer.
“Where is Mateo?”
Sebastian ignored him.
“Dante opened the cellar.”
“Yes,” Teresa whispered.
“Then it’s too late to preserve Salvatore’s version.”
Dante spoke.
“Good.”
Sebastian laughed quietly.
“You sound less like him than I feared.”
“Where is Mateo?”
Silence.
Then:
“With me.”
Javier’s knees nearly gave.
Clara caught his arm.
Dante stared at the phone.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Javier whispered:
“Dad?”
Sebastian heard.
His voice changed.
“Javier.”
Javier could not answer.
Twenty-seven years of hatred had not prepared him for hope.
Sebastian continued.
“Your father does not want to come home.”
The hope cracked.
“Why?”
“Because he has seen what the Romano family does when the dead return.”
Javier’s face hardened.
“You don’t decide that.”
“No.”
Sebastian’s voice softened.
“He does.”
Then:
“But someone else is coming.”
Dante frowned.
“Who?”
The answer was quiet.
“Dominic’s son.”
Silence.
Javier looked confused.
Dominic never married.
Never had children.
May you like
Sebastian continued.
“And if he reaches the family before Mateo does, Leo and Mia will not be the last children used to settle an old man’s war.”
