Chapter 14
Raffaele held one final family meeting at the foundry.
Not with Preston.
Not with Grace.
With the Santoros.
Several relatives had spent weeks asking whether Sofia really wanted the scandal public.
Whether Ava should grow up hearing about it.
Whether the family could settle matters quietly.
Raffaele let them speak.
Then Sofia entered.
She wore no wedding ring.
Ava was not present.
Sofia placed Beatrice’s journal copy on the table.
“My daughter will hear the truth when she’s old enough.”
One uncle shifted uncomfortably.
“Children don't need everything.”
“No.”
Sofia agreed.
“But they also don't need adults rewriting what happened because truth is embarrassing.”
Raffaele looked around the table.
For decades, that had been the Santoro instinct too.
Keep family matters inside.
Protect reputation.
Control the story.
He had always considered it strength.
Now he understood why Grace recognized the same language so easily.
Raffaele stood.
“There will be no private deal.”
That ended the discussion.
Later, outside the gallery, Sofia stopped him.
“You know what scares me?”
“What?”
“If Preston had never said Beatrice’s name tonight…”
She looked toward the place where the wedding decorations had been removed.
“I might have married him.”
Raffaele said nothing.
Because reassurance would have been dishonest.
She might have.
Then Sofia added:
“And if Grace hadn’t panicked, I still might not remember.”
Raffaele looked at his daughter.
“The truth came back.”
“Some of it.”
That distinction mattered.
One gap remained.
The exact seconds before Beatrice fell.
Sofia had fragments.
Preston had a version.
Grace had another.
May you like
Beatrice could no longer tell hers.
They would have to live without owning every second.
