Chapter 11 - [THE UNINVITED GUEST]
"Dominic," I whispered, holding up the phone.
He took it from my hand, his eyes scanning the message. His relaxed posture instantly vanished, replaced by the hardened mafia boss I had met six months ago.
"Who sent this?" Leo asked, seeing the change in our faces.
"I don't know," Dominic said grimly. He handed the phone to his head of security, who had been standing near the patio doors. "Trace this number. Now."
"Sir," the security chief said, his face pale. "I don't need to trace it."
"Why not?"
"Because the number... it's registered to Vincenzo Moretti."
The garden went dead silent.
"My father has been dead for five years," Dominic said slowly.
"I know, sir. But that's the registration."
Grace and Evelyn walked out onto the patio, carrying a tray of iced tea. They stopped when they saw our faces.
"What's wrong?" Grace asked.
Dominic didn't answer. He looked toward the front gates.
A black sedan was pulling up the driveway.
It wasn't one of ours.
"Get inside," Dominic ordered. "Now."
We hurried into the foyer just as the front doorbell rang.
Dominic pulled his gun from his shoulder holster. He nodded to his guards, who flanked the door with their hands on their weapons.
"Open it," Dominic commanded.
The heavy oak doors swung open.
Standing on the porch was a man in his late sixties. He wore a sharp, tailored suit and held a silver cane.
He looked exactly like Vincenzo Moretti.
"Hello, Dominic," the man said smoothly.
Dominic lowered his gun slightly, staring in disbelief. "Uncle Lorenzo?"
The man smiled. "It's been a long time, my boy."
Lorenzo Moretti. Vincenzo’s younger brother. He had been exiled to Italy thirty years ago after a dispute over the family business.
"What are you doing here?" Dominic demanded.
Lorenzo stepped inside, leaning on his cane. "I heard about Margaret. It made the international news. I came to make sure the family was secure."
He looked at Leo. "You’ve grown, Leonardo. The last time I saw you, you were just a boy."
Leo stepped back, shrinking slightly.
"I texted you, Sophie," Lorenzo said, turning his piercing gaze to me. "To warn you. Margaret had allies in Italy. They are not happy she’s locked away."
"Why did you text from my father's old number?" Dominic asked, his grip tightening on the gun.
"Because it was the only way to get your attention quickly," Lorenzo replied calmly. "Dominic, the Rossis were just pawns. The real threat is coming from Palermo. They want the shipping routes Margaret promised them."
Dominic put the gun away. "I can handle my own business, Lorenzo."
"Can you?" Lorenzo asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're getting married. You have a sister to protect. A brother who is fragile. You are distracted."
"I'm not distracted. I'm focused."
Lorenzo smiled. "We will see. I brought a wedding gift."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet pouch.
He handed it to me.
"For the bride," he said.
I looked at Dominic, who nodded once.
I opened the pouch and tipped the contents into my hand.
It was a heavy gold necklace.
With three distinct ruby stars.
I gasped, dropping it onto the marble floor.
It matched the bracelet Margaret had worn. The one Arthur had drawn.
May you like
Lorenzo smiled coldly. "Margaret didn't act alone fifteen years ago, Dominic. Did you really think a mere financial advisor could orchestrate the fall of Vincenzo Moretti without help?"
TITLE: THE TRUE HEIR
