Chapter 7 - The Father Who Came Back From the Grave

# Chapter 7 - The Father Who Came Back From the Grave

The man I had buried three years ago was standing ten feet away from me, claiming that one of my sons wasn't mine.

I wanted to believe he was an impostor.

A carefully selected actor.

A stranger wearing my father's face.

But then he smiled.

And I recognized the slight crookedness of his lower lip, the scar beneath his chin, and the way his left hand rested against his jacket whenever he was nervous.

Antonio D'Angelo.

My father.

The man who had taught me how to ride a bicycle, how to throw a punch, and how to recognize a lie before it left someone's mouth.

The man whose funeral had drawn half the criminal underworld to New York.

He was alive.

And he had apparently been watching my family suffer for three years.

"Which child?" I whispered.

Antonio didn't answer immediately.

He looked at Sophie, still trembling in my arms, then at Elena standing beside me.

Finally, his gaze settled on my face.

"Put your daughter down, Roman. We need to talk."

I tightened my hold on Sophie.

"Answer my question."

"You're upset."

I laughed.

It was a terrible, unfamiliar sound.

"Upset?"

My father sighed.

"Roman—"

"I buried you."

The chapel fell silent.

"I stood beside your coffin. I watched Mother collapse over your grave. I spent three years believing you were dead."

Antonio lowered his eyes.

"I know."

"You know?"

My voice echoed beneath the vaulted ceiling.

"You knew I was mourning you, and you let me?"

Elena reached for my arm.

I barely noticed.

Antonio looked older than I remembered.

There were deep lines around his eyes, and his once-powerful shoulders seemed thinner beneath his black overcoat.

But his expression was unchanged.

The same controlled patience.

The same maddening confidence that he could eventually make anyone accept his decisions.

"I did what I thought necessary to protect this family," he said.

Those words.

I had heard them from Victoria.

From Dominic.

From Elena.

Every betrayal in my life apparently came wrapped in the language of protection.

"Then protect them now," I said. "Tell Adrian to release my sons."

Antonio glanced toward the doctor.

"Adrian, give us a moment."

Vale didn't move.

"Antonio, the schedule—"

"I said give us a moment."

Something passed between them.

For the first time, I saw a trace of resentment in Adrian's eyes.

He stepped toward the side door.

But before leaving, he looked at me.

"Don't allow sentiment to interfere with the decision, Roman."

The door closed behind him.

I turned back to my father.

"Which boy isn't mine?"

Antonio looked toward Elena.

And that was when my wife went completely still.

"No," Elena whispered.

I looked at her.

Her face had turned pale.

"Elena?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Don't do this, Antonio."

My stomach tightened.

"You knew he was alive?"

She didn't answer.

I stepped toward her.

"Elena. Look at me."

Tears filled her eyes.

"Roman, I found out only recently."

"When?"

"After Isabella helped us escape."

I stared at her.

All these months, all these years, every person I loved seemed to possess one more terrible piece of information that I didn't.

"What else are you hiding?"

She opened her mouth.

Antonio interrupted.

"Don't blame your wife for decisions I made."

I turned on him.

"Then tell me the truth!"

He looked toward Sophie.

"Not in front of the child."

For one brief moment, I nearly lunged at him.

Instead, I looked at Isabella.

"Take Sophie somewhere safe. Somewhere I can see her."

Isabella nodded and led us toward a small adjoining room separated from the chapel by glass-paneled doors.

Sophie clung to my jacket.

"Daddy, don't go."

I crouched.

"Sweetheart, I'm right here."

"Grandpa looks scary."

I glanced toward Antonio.

His expression softened.

But Sophie hid her face against my neck.

"I don't want to stay with him."

"You won't."

I kissed her forehead.

"Stay with Mommy and Isabella. I'll be right outside."

Elena sat with her on a cushioned bench near the glass doors, allowing me to keep them in view.

Only then did I return to Antonio.

"Now talk."

My father took a seat in the front pew.

For several seconds, he stared at the altar.

"When you were born, the D'Angelo organization was on the verge of collapsing," he began.

"I don't care about the organization."

"You will when you understand what was done in its name."

I remained standing.

Antonio continued.

"Your grandfather left behind a succession agreement. It protected the family's holdings from hostile takeover, but it also created a problem."

"What problem?"

"The controlling inheritance had to pass through a recognized biological descendant."

I thought of my adoption certificate.

"So I couldn't inherit."

"Not under the original agreement."

"Then why adopt me?"

"Because I loved Isabella."

The words hit me unexpectedly.

I stared at him.

My father looked down.

"Before Victoria, before the businesses became what they are now, Isabella was the woman I intended to marry."

I remembered Victoria telling me Isabella had been his closest friend.

Not his sister.

And Nathan's suggestion that the two of them had been connected through something much darker.

"Why didn't you?"

"Because Isabella disappeared."

I frowned.

"Disappeared?"

"Her family had debts. Dangerous debts. She was taken out of the country. By the time I found her again, she was pregnant."

My heart hammered.

"With me?"

Antonio nodded.

"And Dominic."

"Who was our father?"

His face hardened.

"That is the question everyone has been trying to answer."

I stared at him.

"You don't know?"

"I know who Isabella said he was."

"Who?"

Antonio looked directly at me.

"Nathaniel."

The name struck like a blow.

Nathan Cross.

The man who had spent two years investigating my father's businesses.

The man who had warned me about Dominic.

The man who had watched me search for my children.

"My uncle?"

Antonio nodded.

"Not my brother by blood. Nathaniel was raised in our household after his mother died. My father took responsibility for him."

I struggled to process the words.

"Nathan is my biological father?"

"According to Isabella's original statement."

I looked through the glass doors.

Isabella sat beside Elena, holding Sophie's hand.

She didn't look like a woman who had willingly helped create an empire's heir.

She looked exhausted.

Haunted.

"Does she still say that?"

Antonio's expression changed.

"Ask her."

I turned toward the adjoining room.

Isabella saw me watching.

And immediately looked away.

"Enough about thirty-six years ago," I said. "Tell me about Alessandro and Leo."

Antonio folded his hands.

"Alessandro is your biological son."

I exhaled shakily.

"And Leo?"

He hesitated.

"Leonardo's parentage is uncertain."

I stared at him.

"Uncertain?"

"His medical records were altered."

"By whom?"

"Adrian."

"Then why did you say one of them isn't mine?"

Antonio looked away.

I stepped closer.

"You made a claim about my children without proof?"

"There are genetic reports."

"Show them."

"Adrian controls the originals."

I laughed bitterly.

"Of course he does."

My father raised his eyes.

"Roman, the reports suggested that Leonardo was not genetically related to you."

I felt something inside me go cold.

I thought about the photograph.

The little boy holding a stuffed rabbit.

The frightened eyes.

The way Alessandro had wrapped his arms around him.

And then I thought of Sophie whispering his name.

Leo.

Her baby brother.

The boy Elena had protected for two years.

Whether he shared my blood or not, I had already promised to bring him home.

"Then we'll get independent testing," I said.

Antonio watched me.

"You're not asking who his father might be?"

"Not before he's safe."

"Roman—"

"He's a child."

My voice shook.

"He has spent his entire life being treated like a possession. I won't continue that because some doctor claims he has the wrong DNA."

For the first time, my father seemed uncertain.

He looked at me for a long moment.

Then whispered, "You sound nothing like me."

"Good."

A faint buzzing came from Antonio's coat.

He checked his phone.

His face tightened.

"Adrian is becoming impatient."

"So am I."

I stepped closer.

"Why does he need Alessandro?"

"Because Leonardo may have a rare immune disorder."

"May have?"

"The preliminary records suggest it, but Adrian has refused to release the complete test results."

"Then we take the boys to an independent hospital."

Antonio shook his head.

"Adrian won't allow it."

"Why?"

"Because he believes the children belong to Meridian."

My stomach twisted.

"People don't belong to medical companies."

"I agree."

"Then stop him."

Antonio stared at me.

"You think I haven't tried?"

"You've been alive for three years. What exactly have you done?"

His expression darkened.

"I've spent those years trying to dismantle the program without getting everyone killed."

"You could have called me."

"And brought you directly into his reach?"

"He already has my children!"

Antonio flinched.

I stepped forward.

"Where were you when Sophie was sleeping in a locked room? Where were you when Elena was bleeding? Where were you when your grandson was begging for his father?"

He said nothing.

"Don't tell me you were protecting us."

My father lowered his head.

And suddenly, he looked very old.

The glass door opened.

Elena stepped out.

Sophie remained inside with Isabella.

My wife moved slowly, one hand pressed against her injured side.

"Roman," she whispered, "there's something I have to tell you."

I turned.

"Please don't say that unless you're actually going to tell me."

She absorbed the words without protest.

Then looked at Antonio.

"Tell him what Meridian did with the embryos."

Antonio closed his eyes.

"Elena—"

"No."

Her voice grew stronger.

"You've hidden enough."

I looked between them.

"What embryos?"

Elena took a trembling breath.

"Seven years ago, before we were married, I underwent fertility testing through a private clinic."

"I know."

"Isabella was helping me."

"Why?"

"Because I'd been told I might have difficulty carrying a pregnancy."

She wiped her eyes.

"I was frightened, Roman. I wanted children. I wanted a family. I didn't know whether I'd ever be able to have one."

I reached toward her.

She took my hand.

"The doctors offered to preserve embryos through a research-associated fertility program. They told me everything was strictly regulated."

"Meridian."

She nodded.

"I signed forms I didn't fully understand."

My stomach tightened.

"What happened?"

"After we married, we conceived Alessandro. Naturally, as far as I knew. Sophie came later."

"And Leo?"

She hesitated.

"I was told Leo was conceived through assisted reproduction while I was being held."

My hand went cold.

I stared at her.

"You were forced into treatment?"

Her eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know everything they did. They sedated me for procedures. They kept records away from me."

I felt rage rising.

Elena gripped my hand.

"Roman, I never agreed to let them use anyone else's genetic material."

I looked toward Antonio.

He remained silent.

"Who authorized it?" I demanded.

Antonio slowly raised his eyes.

"The records say Victoria."

I shook my head.

Another violation.

Another life altered without consent.

"Why?"

"Because Meridian's investors wanted a genetically suitable heir. Victoria believed controlling the children would protect the family's holdings."

I looked at Elena.

She was trembling.

I pulled her into my arms carefully, mindful of her injury.

For three years, I had imagined she abandoned me.

Now I was beginning to understand how many decisions had been stolen from her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

She broke against my chest.

"I'm so sorry, Roman."

I held her.

But even as I did, one question remained.

If Leo wasn't biologically mine, whose son was he?

At 9:47 p.m., the chapel bells rang.

Not because of the hour.

Someone had activated them electronically.

Antonio stiffened.

The side door opened.

Adrian Vale returned.

This time, two armed men followed him.

"Time," he announced.

I stepped in front of Elena.

"Where are my sons?"

Adrian held up a tablet.

The screen showed Alessandro sitting on a medical bed.

Leo was no longer beside him.

"Where's Leo?" I demanded.

"Preparing for transfer."

"To where?"

"A specialized treatment facility."

I moved toward him.

One of the guards raised his weapon.

Antonio stood.

"Adrian, put the gun down."

The doctor smiled faintly.

"You no longer give orders here, Antonio."

My father froze.

Adrian turned toward me.

"I have a proposition."

"I don't negotiate over children."

"Everyone negotiates over something."

He placed a document on the altar.

I glanced at it.

It was a legal authorization for a medical intervention.

Alessandro's name appeared as the proposed donor.

The wording referred to a procedure with significant risk, but the details were hidden behind technical language.

"You want my signature," I said.

"Among others."

"You're not getting it."

Adrian sighed.

"Then Leonardo's treatment may be delayed."

I looked at him.

"You haven't shown me evidence that he needs what you're proposing."

"You're not qualified to interpret the data."

"Then bring in doctors who are."

He smiled.

"An admirable suggestion."

Something about his confidence made my stomach tighten.

He wasn't afraid of independent physicians.

He wasn't afraid of the police.

He wasn't even afraid of Antonio.

He was waiting for something.

"What's the real reason you want Alessandro?" I asked.

Adrian studied me.

"Your father never told you about the succession clause?"

Antonio went pale.

I looked at him.

"What clause?"

Adrian opened another document.

It bore the D'Angelo family crest.

"Certain assets remain under the control of a hereditary trust. Their disposition depends on the verified identity of Antonio's qualifying descendants."

I frowned.

"Alessandro is five years old."

"Yes."

"And?"

"His genetic identity establishes a claim."

My eyes narrowed.

"This isn't about saving Leo."

Adrian's smile disappeared.

"It is about several things."

I stepped toward him.

"You want Alessandro's biological sample and my authorization because it gives you control over the trust."

Antonio whispered, "Roman, don't."

I turned.

"Is that true?"

My father looked away.

That was answer enough.

Adrian slowly folded the document.

"You're beginning to see the larger picture."

A gunshot shattered the stained-glass window above the altar.

Everyone ducked.

Glass exploded across the floor.

One of Adrian's guards shouted.

A second shot struck the wooden pew beside him.

The chapel plunged into chaos.

I grabbed Elena and pushed her behind the altar.

Antonio pulled Isabella and Sophie down near the adjoining doorway.

Rebecca's voice crackled through the concealed earpiece I had nearly forgotten.

"Roman! Shots fired outside. Armed men approaching from the western entrance!"

I pressed the transmitter.

"Get the police in here!"

"They're moving!"

Adrian staggered backward.

His guards returned fire toward the broken window.

Then the chapel's rear doors burst open.

A man in a bloodstained coat stumbled inside.

Dominic.

His left arm was supported by a sling.

A fresh bandage showed beneath his open shirt.

He held a pistol in his right hand.

"ROMAN!"

My heart stopped.

"Dominic?"

He fired at the light fixture above Adrian's guards.

The chandelier crashed down between us.

Sparks flew.

"Get Elena and Sophie out!" Dominic shouted.

I grabbed my wife's hand.

But Adrian moved faster.

He seized the medical authorization from the altar and backed toward the side passage.

Antonio lunged after him.

"Adrian!"

The doctor turned.

And shot my father in the chest.

For a moment, Antonio simply stood there.

His eyes widened.

Then he fell against the altar.

"FATHER!"

I ran toward him.

Dominic shouted my name.

Another shot tore through the chapel.

I dropped beside Antonio.

Blood spread across his black coat.

He grabbed my wrist.

"Roman."

"Stay with me."

His mouth trembled.

"The children..."

"I'll get them."

He tightened his grip.

"Listen."

I leaned closer.

"Adrian isn't the one you should fear."

My entire body went cold.

"Who is?"

Antonio coughed.

Blood stained his lips.

Then he whispered, "The person who authorized everything."

"Victoria?"

He shook his head.

"Not Victoria."

I bent closer.

"Then who?"

Antonio's eyes moved toward the doorway.

Toward Isabella.

My biological mother.

She was standing beside Sophie.

Watching us.

And on her face was an expression I couldn't understand.

Not shock.

Not grief.

Recognition.

Antonio pulled me closer with the last of his strength.

"Roman," he whispered, "Isabella never lost her children."

I stared at him.

"What?"

His fingers tightened.

"She gave them away."

My breath stopped.

"Why?"

Antonio's voice faded.

"Because she was the one who started Meridian."

His hand slipped from mine.

And the monitor on the medical emergency kit beside him remained silent because nobody had yet connected him to it.

I pressed my hands against his wound, shouting for help.

But before I could turn back toward Isabella, the chapel's emergency lights flickered on.

A metal security shutter slammed over the rear doors.

Then another sealed the side passage.

An automated voice sounded through hidden speakers.

"Containment protocol initiated."

Dominic looked toward the ceiling.

His expression changed to terror.

"Roman, get away from the ventilation system!"

A low mechanical hum began above us.

Cold air poured through the chapel vents.

And Isabella, the woman who had supposedly spent thirty-six years trying to find me, calmly removed a small respirator from her coat.

She placed it over her mouth.

Then looked directly at me.

"I'm sorry, Roman."

I stared at her.

"What have you done?"

Her eyes filled with tears.

"What I should have done before you were born."

The chapel lights went out.