Chapter 2
Brenna took Tobin downstairs.
She did not allow Gavin to follow.
Rocco told two of his bodyguards to remain near her.
Not because he expected Brenna to run.
Because he no longer knew who inside the house he trusted.
Gavin stood near the bedroom window.
Sybil remained beside the damaged wall.
Rocco looked at both.
“How long?”
Neither answered.
He touched the fox again.
The carving was old.
Far older than Tobin’s drawings.
“How long have you known this mark was here?”
Sybil finally spoke.
“Since before Brenna married Gavin.”
Rocco turned.
“So this marriage began with a map.”
Gavin’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Careful.”
“I loved Brenna.”
“Past tense.”
Gavin looked away.
That told Rocco enough.
Sybil stepped forward.
“You don’t get to judge anyone’s marriage.”
Rocco smiled faintly.
“No?”
“You buried your wife with half her secrets still inside her.”
Rocco’s eyes darkened.
Sybil knew she had touched something dangerous.
She continued anyway.
“That is what Morettis do. You hide truth until it becomes somebody else’s funeral.”
Gavin looked toward his mother.
“Stop.”
“No.”
Her bitterness had waited too long.
She pointed at the black fox.
“My husband left that mark.”
Rocco said nothing.
“Nolan Ashford was here.”
“Yes.”
“You told me he died in a warehouse fire.”
Rocco’s expression did not change.
Sybil laughed.
“There.”
Bitter.
“Not even denial.”
Gavin stared at him.
“My father died here?”
“No.”
“Then where?”
Rocco looked at him.
“You are asking twenty-six years late.”
“Because you lied for twenty-six years.”
“Yes.”
The admission stopped Gavin.
Rocco had learned age sometimes made truth more frightening than excuses.
Nolan Ashford had been one of Rocco’s closest allies.
Not family.
Close enough.
He ran routes through the eastern docks and spent Sunday evenings playing cards at Moretti dinners.
Then men started disappearing.
Shipments vanished.
A Moretti captain was found dead in a Vale-owned warehouse.
A Vale cousin disappeared after meeting Nolan.
Every clue pointed toward a war.
Rocco believed Marcus Vale was attacking him.
Marcus believed Rocco was preparing to destroy the Vales.
Nolan stood between both sides.
Until he vanished.
Sybil whispered:
“You killed him.”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Rocco looked at her.
“I stopped caring what you believed twenty-five years ago.”
Gavin stepped toward him.
“Then why let me marry Brenna?”
Rocco’s gaze sharpened.
“Because my daughter loved you.”
“And that erased my father?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Rocco looked toward the doorway Brenna had disappeared through.
“I refused to make her pay for something you had not done.”
Gavin laughed bitterly.
“And I suppose that makes you noble.”
“No.”
Rocco stepped closer.
“It made me better than the men who raised me.”
Sybil’s expression changed.
For a moment, she believed him.
Then hatred returned.
“What is behind the wall?”
Rocco looked at the fox.
“I don’t know.”
“You expect us to believe this was your house and you never knew?”
“This room was sealed when I was thirty-one.”
“Why?”
Rocco said nothing.
Gavin understood.
“Someone died here.”
“No.”
“Then?”
Rocco touched the fox again.
“My younger brother disappeared from this room.”
Sybil stared.
Gavin frowned.
“I thought you only had one brother.”
“I did.”
“Name?”
“Enzo.”
Rocco had not spoken it in years.
Enzo Moretti had been twenty-seven.
Beautiful smile.
Dangerous temper.
The opposite of Rocco in every way.
He disappeared the same week Nolan Ashford vanished.
The family declared Enzo dead after six months.
No body.
No grave anyone believed.
Rocco had closed the room after that.
Years later, when Brenna married Gavin, the house became theirs because Brenna loved the old place.
Rocco had allowed it.
Tobin eventually became the first child to sleep in Enzo’s old bedroom.
Gavin stared at the wall.
“Your brother and my father disappeared together.”
“Yes.”
“And you never thought that mattered?”
“I knew it mattered.”
“Then why hide it?”
Rocco’s eyes hardened.
“Because the answer nearly started a war that would have killed both our families.”
Sybil laughed.
“Our family disappeared anyway.”
Rocco ignored her.
“What does Celeste Vale know?”
Gavin went still.
Rocco saw it.
“That’s why she is coming.”
Gavin said nothing.
Rocco moved closer.
“Not because she needs a room.”
Silence.
“Not because you suddenly decided you wanted another family.”
Gavin’s jaw flexed.
“Why is Celeste Vale coming into this house?”
Gavin finally answered.
“Because Elliot found the second fox.”
Rocco stared.
“Where?”
“On something his father left him.”
“His father.”
“Dead.”
“Name.”
Gavin hesitated.
Rocco’s voice became lethal.
“Name.”
“Marcus Vale Junior.”
Rocco stopped.
Marcus Vale’s son.
The boy he believed fled the country after the old war.
Gavin continued.
“Elliot is Marcus’s grandson.”
The three-year-old being moved into Tobin’s bedroom carried Vale blood.
Rocco looked toward the fox.
Two old families.
Two vanished men.
One room.
Gavin whispered:
“Celeste thinks whatever is behind this wall explains why both our fathers were destroyed.”
Rocco looked at him.
“And you thought betraying my daughter was the price of opening it.”
Gavin’s face hardened.
“You have no idea what I thought.”
“No.”
Rocco stepped closer.
“But Brenna will.”
May you like
Downstairs, something shattered.
Then Brenna screamed Gavin’s name.
