Chapter 9 - MICHAEL’S WIDOW
Anthony felt the room tilt without moving.
“Michael wasn’t married.”
Joseph looked almost sympathetic.
“That is what Dominic wanted you to believe.”
Anthony turned to Marcia.
She looked stunned.
Paul too.
Samuel closed his eyes.
Anthony saw it.
“You knew.”
Samuel nodded once.
Anthony stepped toward him.
“Who?”
“A woman named Rebecca Lane.”
“When?”
“Michael met her during the war.”
“Why hide her?”
“Dominic didn’t approve.”
Anthony almost laughed.
Of course.
Every secret eventually led back to Dominic deciding what his sons were allowed to love.
“Child?”
Samuel hesitated.
Anthony’s stomach tightened.
“Was there a child?”
“Yes.”
The word landed like a gunshot.
Anthony had a niece or nephew.
Maybe alive.
“Name.”
Samuel shook his head.
“I never knew.”
Joseph spoke.
“A boy.”
Anthony looked at him.
“Where?”
“I lost track.”
“Convenient.”
“Rebecca disappeared after Michael died.”
“Because of you?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Joseph looked toward Julian.
Julian said nothing.
Laurel stared at her father.
“You knew?”
Julian exhaled.
“I helped her leave.”
Anthony moved.
Laurel stepped between them.
“Anthony.”
He stopped.
Barely.
“Why?”
Julian answered.
“Because someone was coming for the child.”
“Who?”
“The same person who killed Michael.”
“Name.”
“I never knew.”
Anthony laughed bitterly.
“You people built an entire world on never knowing names.”
Joseph spoke.
“Rebecca knew.”
Anthony turned.
“She witnessed Michael’s murder?”
“No.”
“She recognized the killer afterward.”
“How?”
“He came to her house.”
The room became silent.
“To kill her?”
“To warn her.”
Anthony’s voice dropped.
“And she escaped.”
“With Julian’s help.”
Anthony looked at Laurel’s father.
“You protected Michael’s family.”
“Yes.”
“Why not tell me?”
“Dominic.”
Of course.
Julian continued.
“Your father believed the child was leverage. I did not trust what he would do.”
Anthony's face hardened.
“He was my father.”
“Yes.”
“And that is exactly why nobody trusted you with the truth.”
The words hurt because Anthony understood them.
He had been Dominic’s son before he became his own man.
Joseph leaned forward.
“The boy would be around twenty-four now.”
Nathan frowned.
“Why does this matter tonight?”
Joseph looked at him.
“Because I believe he shot me.”
Anthony stared.
Michael’s son.
His nephew.
Alive.
Trying to kill Joseph.
Revenge inherited from a father he never knew.
“What makes you think that?”
Joseph removed something from his pocket.
A silver pendant.
Anthony recognized it.
Michael wore it from age sixteen until his death.
A small Saint Christopher medallion.
Anthony had searched for it after the funeral.
Never found.
“The shooter dropped this.”
Anthony took it.
His hands remained steady.
Inside the back casing, scratched by hand:
M.V.
Michael Vescari.
Then beneath it:
R.L.
Rebecca Lane.
Anthony looked up.
“Where is Rebecca?”
Julian answered.
“Dead.”
Laurel turned sharply.
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
“You never told me.”
“No.”
Anthony looked at Joseph.
“The boy?”
“Vanished again.”
Paul spoke.
“You think Michael’s son is the Collector now?”
Joseph shook his head.
“No.”
Anthony understood.
“He’s hunting the Collector.”
“Yes.”
Another revenge.
Another child raised by a secret.
Another generation inheriting unfinished hatred.
Nathan laughed bitterly.
“Wonderful. We’re all hunting someone.”
Joseph looked at him.
“That is the family tradition.”
Nathan’s eyes hardened.
“No. That is your tradition.”
For the first time, Joseph looked wounded.
Nathan continued.
“You created conflicts because you hated Dominic.”
“I created options.”
“You created orphans.”
Joseph stood.
“And Dominic created obedience.”
Nathan stepped closer.
“He raised Anthony.”
“And look what Anthony became.”
Everyone turned.
Anthony did not react.
Joseph looked at him.
“You think you are different because you speak quietly before giving orders.”
Laurel watched her husband.
Joseph continued.
“Dominic controlled through fear of disappointment. You control through fear of consequence.”
Anthony answered calmly.
“And you control by making people think betrayal was their own idea.”
Joseph smiled.
“Exactly.”
The admission chilled the room.
Anthony held Michael’s pendant.
“Who killed him?”
Joseph looked toward Samuel.
Samuel went pale.
Anthony followed the gaze.
“No.”
Samuel whispered, “Anthony.”
The room became silent.
Samuel had served Dominic.
Raised Anthony in many ways.
Protected him after Michael died.
Taught him patience.
Anthony’s voice became barely audible.
“Tell me he’s looking at you because you know.”
Samuel said nothing.
Anthony stepped forward.
“Tell me.”
Samuel closed his eyes.
“I was there.”
Laurel inhaled.
Anthony stopped.
“You killed my brother?”
Samuel opened his eyes.
“No.”
“Then who?”
Before he could answer, a shot cracked through the warehouse.
Joseph jerked backward.
Nathan caught him before he fell.
Everyone moved.
Anthony turned toward the upper catwalk.
A shadow disappeared behind the steel beams.
The shooter had chosen Joseph.
Again.
May you like
And Samuel whispered one name before Anthony could run.
“Michael’s son.”
