Chapter 6 - The Truth Hidden in My Father's Blood|
I stood in the hospital lobby, staring at the man I'd mourned for twelve years.
He looked like my father.
He sounded like my father.
Even the way he held the white chess queen between his fingers was familiar.
But the words he'd just spoken made no sense.
Dominic was his son?
I shook my head.
"What?"
Michael Harrison looked toward Gabriel, who had followed me into the lobby.
"We need somewhere private."
I couldn't move.
"Dad, what are you talking about?"
He took one step toward me.
I stepped backward.
Pain crossed his face.
"Mia..."
"Answer me."
He closed his eyes.
"Dominic Russo was born before you."
My stomach dropped.
"That's impossible."
"I was involved with his mother before she married Anthony Russo."
I stared at him.
"You're saying Dominic is my brother?"
Michael swallowed.
"No."
The word came too quickly.
I looked at Gabriel.
His expression was grim.
Michael continued.
"You're not my biological daughter."
The lobby seemed to tilt.
I reached for the nearest chair.
Gabriel caught my arm.
"Mia, sit down."
I sank into the chair.
Michael knelt in front of me.
"I raised you. I loved you. Nothing changes that."
My voice broke.
"Then why did you lie?"
"Because I was trying to keep you safe."
I laughed through tears.
"Everyone keeps saying that!"
Michael lowered his head.
"I know."
For twelve years, I'd grieved for him.
For twenty-eight years, I'd believed I knew who I was.
Now both truths were collapsing.
"Who are my parents?" I whispered.
Michael looked toward the window.
"Your mother was a woman named Catherine Vale."
I frowned.
"Vale?"
Gabriel's expression changed.
Michael noticed.
"What?"
Gabriel spoke quietly.
"Catherine Vale worked for Anthony Russo."
Michael nodded.
"She was his accountant."
My chest tightened.
"And my father?"
Michael hesitated.
"We don't know for certain."
I stared.
"You don't know?"
"Catherine never named him."
I turned away.
I needed air.
I needed silence.
I needed one person in my life to tell me the truth without forcing me to beg for it.
Rebecca Shaw stepped closer.
"Mia, we can arrange independent verification of these claims."
I nodded shakily.
"Do it."
Michael reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
"Not yet."
His face fell.
I looked at him.
"You don't get to disappear for twelve years and expect me to trust you because you have my father's face."
He nodded slowly.
"You're right."
Then Gabriel's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
"Where?"
A pause.
"Are you sure?"
He ended the call.
"Dominic has been arrested."
I froze.
"What?"
"Federal agents took him into custody outside the Bianchi estate."
My heart pounded.
"For what?"
"Conspiracy, financial crimes, and obstruction related to the old art operation."
I stared.
"That's impossible."
Gabriel looked at Michael.
"Someone gave the government new evidence."
Michael's face went pale.
"What evidence?"
Gabriel handed me his phone.
On the screen was a photograph of Dominic being escorted into a black vehicle.
His hands were cuffed.
His face was expressionless.
But his eyes looked exhausted.
I remembered him standing outside the estate.
Promising to give me space.
Promising not to control me anymore.
Had he known he was about to be arrested?
My phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A woman spoke.
"Mia Harrison?"
"Yes."
"This is Assistant U.S. Attorney Sarah Whitmore. I'm contacting you because your name appears in evidence recently submitted to our office."
My stomach tightened.
"What evidence?"
"The Russo ledger."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
The book.
The one I'd carried through the storm.
The one Vincent had given me.
"What about it?"
Whitmore hesitated.
"We need to speak with you about the entries."
"Why?"
"Because several transactions list you as the recipient."
I stared at the wall.
"That's impossible."
"The amounts are substantial."
"How substantial?"
A pause.
"Approximately forty-eight million dollars."
My knees weakened.
"What?"
"Miss Harrison, we have reason to believe someone used your identity to move funds through offshore accounts."
I looked at Gabriel.
He immediately understood something was wrong.
Whitmore continued.
"We'd like you to come in voluntarily and answer some questions with counsel present."
I swallowed.
"Am I under investigation?"
"We haven't reached any conclusions."
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
"Miss Harrison, there's another matter."
I gripped the phone.
"What?"
"One of the accounts appears to have been opened on the day your father was declared dead."
I looked toward Michael.
He stood beside the window.
Watching me.
May you like
And suddenly I wondered whether the man I'd just embraced had returned because he loved me.
Or because forty-eight million dollars had been hidden in my name.
