Chapter 3 – THE ROSARY’S SECRET
The words echoed off the high walls of the dining room.
Your son.
Dominic stumbled back, bumping into the heavy oak table. The wine glasses rattled. For a man who controlled an empire, who dictated the lives of thousands of men, he suddenly looked entirely broken.
“Elena was pregnant?” Dominic whispered. “When she died… she was pregnant?”
“She survived the crash just long enough to deliver,” Anthony said softly. “But the family… our rivals, the Morettis… they caused the crash, Dominic. They were trying to wipe out your bloodline. Your mother knew if the Morettis found out the baby survived, they wouldn’t stop until they killed him, too.”
Vincent slammed his hand on the table. “It’s a fairy tale! The old man is crazy!”
“I am not crazy!” Anthony roared, a sudden, fierce strength flooding his frail body. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a heavy wooden rosary he always wore around his neck.
I had seen him pray with it every evening. I always thought it was just a comfort item from his late wife.
Anthony snapped the rosary off his neck. He twisted the large wooden crucifix at the bottom. With a soft click, the top of the cross slid away from the base, revealing a hollowed-out compartment inside the wood.
He tipped it over. A tiny, tightly rolled piece of paper fell onto the tablecloth.
Dominic picked it up and unrolled it.
“It’s a birth certificate,” Dominic read, his voice trembling. “Leo Parker. Mother: Elena Parker. Father…” He stopped, swallowing hard. “Father: Dominic Romano.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Leo Parker.
“My mother,” I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. “After Elena died, my mother took in a foster child. She never told us where he came from. She just said he needed a family. That’s Toby.”
Dominic’s head snapped toward me. “Toby? Your younger brother? The one you’re paying tuition for?”
“No,” I said, my heart racing. “Toby is twelve. My older brother is in college. Toby is… he’s at St. Jude’s Boarding Academy in upstate New York. I send money every month to keep him there.”
Vincent let out a desperate, ugly laugh. “You see, Dom? It’s a setup! This maid is working with the old man to extort us! She planted herself here!”
“I didn’t even know who Dominic Romano was until the temp agency placed me here nine months ago!” I shot back.
Dominic looked from the birth certificate to me, then to his father. “You knew, Dad? You knew Emily was the boy’s aunt?”
Anthony nodded slowly. “When the agency sent her file… I saw the name Parker. I saw her picture. She looks just like Elena. I convinced human resources to hire her. I wanted her close so I could keep an eye on Toby through her.”
Dominic ran a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me, Dad? Why keep him from me for twelve years?”
“Because your mother made me promise!” Anthony cried. “But then she passed away. And six months ago, I couldn’t bear the guilt anymore. I packed a bag. I was going to St. Jude’s to get my grandson and bring him home to you.”
He pointed a shaking finger at Vincent. “And my own son pushed me down the stairs to stop me.”
Dominic turned to Vincent. The vulnerability in his face vanished, replaced by the cold, terrifying mask of a mafia boss.
“Why, Vinnie?” Dominic asked.
Vincent backed away, hitting the wall. “Because you were going to hand the empire over to him! A twelve-year-old bastard! I’ve bled for this family, Dom! I deserved to be your heir!”
Dominic took a step forward, but before he could reach his brother, Michael’s radio crackled loudly.
“Boss,” a frantic voice came through the static. “We got a problem at the front gates. Cops.”
Vincent smiled, a nasty, desperate grin.
“I’m not going to jail, Dom,” Vincent said. He reached behind a decorative vase on the side table and pulled out a matte black handgun, pointing it directly at my chest.
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