Chapter 4 - THE ONE WHO STAYED SEATED
Nathan Vescari had spent his entire life being underestimated.
Anthony understood that now.
At thirty-five, Nathan had never wanted territory.
Never fought publicly for rank.
Never argued at family dinners.
Never raised his voice.
He remembered birthdays.
Sent flowers to widows.
Visited old relatives everyone else forgot.
Men like Frederick mocked him for being soft.
Anthony had defended him.
More than once.
That memory now tasted different.
Nathan's car was found abandoned near the interstate.
No Nathan.
No sign of Helen.
His phone sat beneath the passenger seat.
Clean.
No useful messages.
Too clean.
Anthony returned to the estate by afternoon.
Marcia was waiting.
“You found Helen’s house.”
It was not a question.
Anthony looked at her.
“How did you know?”
Marcia’s eyes shifted toward Laurel.
“Because I knew he would take her.”
“Nathan?”
Marcia went still.
Anthony saw the answer.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
Anthony crossed the room.
“You suspected Nathan and still let him sit at my table?”
Marcia stood.
“I needed to know who he was connected to.”
“You used my house.”
“You used my humiliation of your wife for the same reason.”
Laurel stepped between them before Anthony answered.
“She’s right.”
Anthony looked at her.
Laurel’s face remained cold.
“That doesn’t excuse her.”
“No.”
“But she’s right.”
Marcia studied Laurel.
Something in her expression shifted.
Perhaps respect.
Perhaps resentment that Laurel could see clearly while angry.
Anthony turned back.
“Tell me everything.”
Marcia sat.
“Henry Vescari had three sons.”
Anthony knew that.
His father Dominic.
His uncle Paul.
And Joseph, who died before Anthony was born.
Marcia continued.
“Joseph did not die in a car accident.”
Anthony stared.
“What?”
“He disappeared.”
“Why was I told he died?”
“Because your grandfather wanted the name buried.”
Laurel leaned forward.
“What does Joseph have to do with Nathan?”
Marcia looked at Anthony.
“Nathan is not Paul’s son.”
Silence.
“He is Joseph’s.”
Anthony slowly turned toward the door as though Nathan might somehow be standing there.
Marcia continued.
“Joseph was brilliant. Patient. He hated that Dominic inherited control because Dominic was older.”
Anthony understood before she finished.
“The Collector.”
Marcia nodded.
“We believe Joseph created the role.”
“You believe?”
“He never called himself that to me.”
“But Julian did.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Joseph manipulated the first conflicts. He used Julian Vale as a shield because Julian already had a reputation for deception.”
Laurel's face hardened.
“My father was guilty of enough that nobody questioned the extra crimes.”
“Exactly.”
“And the Vescari-Gallo war?”
Marcia looked at Anthony.
“Joseph started it.”
Anthony thought of Michael.
His brother.
Dead at twenty-eight.
A bullet outside a restaurant.
Anthony had spent half his life believing the Gallos were responsible.
“They killed Michael.”
Marcia shook her head.
“No.”
Anthony's voice dropped.
“Careful.”
“Michael discovered Joseph was alive.”
The room went still.
“Michael tried to tell Dominic.”
Anthony's chest tightened.
“My father?”
“Dominic did not believe him.”
“Then?”
“Michael arranged to meet Julian.”
Laurel stared.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Julian had proof Joseph was manipulating both families.”
Anthony already knew the ending.
“Michael never reached him.”
“No.”
“Who killed him?”
Marcia looked down.
“I don't know.”
Anthony struck the table with his palm.
Marcia did not flinch.
“I don’t know.”
“Twenty years of secrets and suddenly you know nothing?”
“I know Nathan was raised by Paul because Joseph vanished.”
“Paul knew?”
“No.”
Anthony stared.
“Then how?”
“His mother told us Joseph died before Nathan was born. Dominic ordered the boy brought into the family. Paul agreed to raise him as his own.”
“And you?”
“I knew.”
“Who else?”
“Dominic.”
“Anyone living?”
Marcia hesitated.
Anthony saw it.
“Who?”
“Your old consigliere, Samuel Redd.”
Anthony frowned.
Samuel had retired twelve years ago.
Lived alone on the coast.
Never attended family events.
Anthony had not seen him in five years.
“He knew Joseph?”
“He helped Dominic search for him.”
Laurel leaned toward Marcia.
“Why did you hate me?”
Marcia finally looked ashamed.
“I did not know whether Julian was working with Joseph.”
“So you punished me.”
“I thought your marriage might be part of something.”
“You had a year.”
Marcia said nothing.
“A year to see who I was.”
“Yes.”
“And you still chose to call me a beggar in front of everyone.”
Marcia’s face tightened.
“I was wrong.”
Laurel stared.
The apology did not heal anything.
But it mattered that Marcia could say it.
Anthony turned toward the windows.
“Nathan.”
If Joseph had created the Collector, perhaps Nathan inherited more than blood.
But why Helen?
Why now?
Anthony’s phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Nathan’s voice.
“Cousin.”
Anthony looked at Laurel.
“Where are you?”
“You always ask location before motive.”
“Nathan.”
A quiet laugh.
“I’m safe.”
“Helen?”
“She is too.”
Laurel stepped closer.
“Put my mother on.”
Nathan heard her.
“Hello, Laurel.”
Her face hardened.
“If you hurt her—”
“I haven’t.”
“Then let me hear her.”
A pause.
Helen’s voice came through.
“Laurel.”
Laurel closed her eyes.
“Mom.”
“I’m all right.”
“Did Nathan take you?”
Helen hesitated.
“No.”
Anthony's eyes narrowed.
Nathan returned.
“Now you understand one thing.”
“What?”
“I did not take Helen.”
“Then why are you with her?”
“Because she called me.”
Laurel stared.
Anthony whispered, “Why?”
Nathan answered.
May you like
“Because Julian Vale is coming back.”
The call ended.
