Chapter 11
Lorenzo moved first.
Toward the stairs.
Dante stopped him with one arm.
Lorenzo glared.
“Move.”
“No.”
“She’s my mother.”
“She’s mine too.”
The sentence landed strangely between them.
First shared truth.
Lorenzo’s eyes hardened.
“You don’t get to say that after sixteen years.”
Dante held his gaze.
“I didn’t take her from you.”
Silence.
Lorenzo’s breathing slowed.
Then he stepped back.
Power shifted again.
They searched together.
Not side by side.
But not attacking each other either.
The old guest wing had one locked room.
Nico opened it with Ava’s key.
Inside:
A coat.
A travel bag.
Fresh tea.
Someone had been there less than an hour earlier.
On the table sat a photograph.
Two boys.
One toddler.
One infant.
Dante and Lorenzo.
Their mother between them.
Lorenzo’s hand trembled.
He touched the edge.
Dante watched.
No mockery.
No command.
Just silence.
Then a voice came from the adjoining balcony.
“You both got taller.”
They turned.
Isabella Bellandi stood outside.
Seventy now.
Silver hair.
Dark coat.
Same eyes as both sons.
Lorenzo stopped breathing.
Dante could not move.
Isabella looked first at Lorenzo.
Pain crossed her face.
Then Dante.
More pain.
“I’m sorry.”
Lorenzo laughed.
Broken.
“You're sorry?”
His voice rose.
“You let me spend half my life believing he stole everything from me.”
Isabella flinched.
Dante watched.
Lorenzo continued.
“You told me Father chose him.”
“No.”
“I heard Thomas.”
“You believed Thomas.”
“You let me!”
His hand struck the table.
Dante did not intervene.
Isabella’s eyes filled.
“I was afraid if I came back, they would use one of you to kill the other.”
Lorenzo pointed toward the reception hall.
“And look how well leaving worked.”
That landed.
Isabella lowered her eyes.
Dante asked:
“Why tonight?”
Her gaze moved toward Ava.
“Because they involved a child.”
The answer changed him.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“And you waited?”
Isabella looked ashamed.
“I was trying to learn how far it went.”
Lorenzo laughed bitterly.
“Always watching.”
Her eyes closed.
Another family habit.
Observe.
Test.
Delay.
Then call the damage necessary.
Dante looked at the key.
“You put this in Ava’s pocket.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“So she could lead you here if I failed to stop it.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“You used her too.”
Isabella flinched.
That accusation landed hardest.
“I never meant—”
“No.”
Dante’s voice stayed low.
“That sentence has been used enough tonight.”
Silence.
Isabella nodded slowly.
Then she looked toward Lorenzo.
“Vivienne lied to you.”
His expression hardened.
“About what?”
“Why she found you.”
Vivienne had not discovered Lorenzo through old family records.
Someone sent her.
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Isabella looked toward Dante.
Then answered:
“Marcus.”
May you like
The siblings had not been following Lorenzo’s plan.
Marcus had helped create it before Lorenzo even knew Dante existed.
