Chapter 7 - THE UNCLE WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD|
Dante had spent his entire life believing his uncle Salvatore died in a fire in Palermo.
His father had attended the funeral. The family had received official documents. A body had been identified by a signet ring.
Now the same man had walked into the Vescari mansion and spoken with Aurelio as if no years had passed.
Nora watched Dante struggle to control his expression.
“Why would your father keep this from you?”
“Because he believed secrets were safer when only one person carried them.”
“Did it work?”
“No.”
He looked at the photograph.
“Not very well.”
Aurelio was brought to the secure office. When he saw the image, his face seemed to age ten years.
“Salvatore,” he whispered.
“You saw him recently?” Dante asked.
Aurelio nodded.
“Three days ago. He came to the garden entrance. He said he wanted to apologize.”
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he said he had information about Isabella.”
Nora stepped forward.
“What information?”
Aurelio looked at her.
“He said he knew what happened to her daughter.”
The room fell silent.
“Did he say where she was?” Nora asked.
“He said the truth was hidden in the old port records. He wanted me to meet him alone.”
Dante's expression hardened.
“You went?”
“Yes.”
“Father!”
“I am old, Dante, not foolish. I took a guard. Salvatore saw him and left before we could speak.”
Aurelio looked at Nora.
“He left a message. He said the girl had grown up in America and that her family had kept her identity hidden.”
“My mother,” Nora whispered.
Aurelio nodded.
“He said she had been watched for years.”
Nora felt anger rise through her fear.
“Why? My mother never knew anything about the family.”
“Because she carried something,” Dante said.
“The bracelet.”
“Perhaps.”
Aurelio leaned heavily on his cane.
“Salvatore always believed that blood was a kind of ownership. If a child was born into the Vescari family, he thought that child belonged to the family, no matter where they lived or what they wanted.”
Nora looked at Dante.
“And you?”
He held her gaze.
“I believe people belong to themselves.”
She wanted to believe him.
But his name stood behind him like a shadow.
Before she could answer, Marcus entered.
“Boss, we traced Salvatore's recent movements. He has been meeting with three people connected to the old shipping business.”
“Names?”
Marcus handed him a list.
Dante read the first two without reacting.
At the third name, his face changed.
Nora noticed.
“Who is it?”
Dante folded the paper.
“Someone who has been running my father's legitimate businesses for twenty years.”
“Do you trust him?”
“I did.”
His phone rang.
Aurelio answered it before Dante could stop him.
The caller spoke in the old dialect.
Nora understood every word.
The voice said, “Bring the girl to the harbor at midnight, or the old woman will never see the morning.”
Aurelio lowered the phone.
Then Nora whispered, “That wasn't Salvatore.”
Dante looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Because the man who called used a word from the wrong village.”
May you like
She swallowed.
“It was someone pretending to be Sicilian.”
