Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Was Never Supposed to KnowDominic did not speak until they were inside the car.
He started the engine.
Then turned it off again.
Clare waited.
She had learned this about him.
When Dominic was angry, interruption made him harder.
When he was frightened, silence gave him room to become himself again.
Finally he said, “Open it.”
Clare looked at the envelope.
“It was addressed to my mother.”
“My father wrote it.”
“That doesn't make it ours.”
Dominic turned toward her.
“They're both dead.”
“I know.”
“My mother is dead.”
“I know.”
“And Margaret just told us Adrian may have been in danger before he was old enough to understand what danger was.”
Clare studied him.
“You're scared.”
His expression closed instantly.
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Turn this into a psychological evaluation.”
“I'm not.”
“You're using the voice.”
“What voice?”
“The nurse voice.”
She almost smiled.
“I'm a nurse.”
“You use a different voice with patients.”
“And you're acting like one.”
That nearly started an argument.
Instead, Dominic leaned back and closed his eyes.
“My mother died when Adrian was three.”
Clare knew that.
“She was driving alone,” he continued. “Wet road. She lost control.”
“You were?”
“Eleven.”
Clare looked at him.
He rarely spoke about childhood.
Matteo's death had shaped his adulthood.
Rebecca's had shaped something even deeper.
“Do you remember that day?”
“Every minute.”
Clare said nothing.
Dominic looked through the windshield.
“My father picked me up from school. He didn't tell me until we were home.”
His voice remained controlled.
Too controlled.
“Adrian kept asking where she was.”
Clare felt something ache inside her.
“He was three,” Dominic said. “He didn't understand death. For months he asked when she was coming back.”
He looked at the envelope.
“And now we're supposed to believe she thought he was in danger.”
“We don't know what she meant.”
“Exactly.”
Clare touched the seal.
“Then we find out.”
She opened the letter.
The paper inside was brittle.
Matteo's handwriting covered two pages.
Clare read aloud.
“Evelyn, Rebecca was right.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“She found the payments before I did.”
Clare stopped.
“Payments?”
“Keep reading.”
Clare continued.
“She believed someone was using the children's trust accounts to move money through the company. At first I thought she was mistaken. I was wrong.”
Dominic stared ahead.
Clare read the next lines silently first.
Then again.
“What?”
She looked at him.
“This connects to the money your father was accused of stealing.”
Dominic took the letter.
His eyes moved quickly.
The financial scandal had already been partially resolved.
They knew Matteo had moved company funds while investigating fraud.
What they had never known was where the fraud began.
According to the letter, the first suspicious transfers had been made through accounts created for Dominic and Adrian.
Accounts controlled by trustees until the boys became adults.
Rebecca had discovered them.
Matteo had confronted someone.
The letter did not name that person.
But it included initials.
V.R.
Dominic stared at them.
Clare knew immediately.
“Family?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Dominic folded the letter.
“My uncle.”
“Matteo's brother?”
“Victor Romano.”
Clare had never heard the name.
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Ten years ago.”
“What happened?”
“Cancer.”
Clare looked back at Margaret's building.
“So everyone who can explain this is conveniently dead.”
“Not everyone.”
“Who?”
Dominic started the engine.
“My aunt.”
Adrian was furious.
Not surprised.
Not frightened.
Furious.
“You went without me?”
“You were at a fundraiser,” Dominic said.
“I would have left.”
“That was the reason I didn't tell you.”
Adrian paced across Dominic's apartment.
His limp became more noticeable when he was angry.
Clare watched him.
“Sit down.”
“Don't nurse me.”
“Then stop walking like your leg doesn't hurt.”
Adrian glared.
Then sat.
Dominic placed Matteo's letter on the table.
Adrian read it.
His anger disappeared.
“What does this mean?”
“We don't know.”
“Why was Mom looking at my trust?”
“Both trusts,” Dominic corrected.
“Margaret specifically said I wasn't safe.”
Dominic said nothing.
Adrian looked at Clare.
“Do you believe her?”
“I believe she believes what she told us.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“No.”
Adrian read the letter again.
“Who is V.R.?”
“Victor.”
Adrian looked up sharply.
“Uncle Victor?”
“Yes.”
“I barely remember him.”
“I do.”
“What was he like?”
Dominic's expression hardened.
“Charming.”
Adrian waited.
“That's not a compliment, is it?”
“No.”
Victor Romano had been Matteo's younger brother.
Where Matteo was cautious, Victor was impulsive.
Where Matteo avoided attention, Victor enjoyed it.
Their father had given both sons positions in the family construction business, but Matteo eventually controlled most operations.
Victor resented it.
“He left Chicago after Dad died,” Dominic said.
“Why?”
“Nobody said.”
“You never asked?”
“I was nineteen and suddenly responsible for a company drowning in accusations.”
Adrian leaned back.
“Fair.”
Clare looked at Dominic.
“You mentioned an aunt.”
“Victor's widow.”
“Name?”
“Helena.”
“Where is she?”
“Wisconsin.”
“Do you speak?”
“No.”
“How long?”
“Twenty years.”
Adrian whistled softly.
“Healthy family.”
Dominic ignored him.
Clare folded her arms.
“Why don't you speak?”
“After Dad died, Helena accused him publicly.”
“Of stealing?”
“Yes.”
“She believed Victor?”
“Yes.”
“And after the records cleared Matteo?”
“She never contacted us.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Neither did you.”
Dominic's eyes hardened.
“Don't.”
Adrian held up both hands.
“I'm just saying grudges apparently run in the family.”
Clare looked between them.
“Then we're going to Wisconsin.”
Both brothers looked at her.
“No,” Dominic said.
“Yes,” Adrian said simultaneously.
Clare smiled.
“Good. Democracy wins.”
“That wasn't a vote.”
“Two to one.”
“You aren't a Romano.”
Adrian grinned.
“She basically is.”
Clare threw a cushion at him.
He caught it.
Dominic looked exhausted.
“Tomorrow morning.”
Clare nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
Helena Romano lived beside a lake outside Madison.
Her house was modest.
That surprised Clare.
She had expected wealth.
Instead there was peeling white paint, an old Subaru, and three ceramic birds beside the porch.
An eighty-year-old woman opened the door before they knocked.
She stared at Dominic.
Then Adrian.
Her face lost its color.
“Go away.”
Dominic remained still.
“We need to talk.”
“No.”
“It's about my mother.”
Helena's hand tightened around the door.
“Your mother is dead.”
“So is my father.”
“That didn't stop either of them from ruining lives.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Whose?”
Helena looked at him.
Something strange happened.
Her anger disappeared.
For one second, Clare saw fear.
Then grief.
“Oh,” Helena whispered.
Adrian frowned.
“What?”
“You look like her.”
“My mother?”
Helena shook her head.
“No.”
Everyone went still.
Dominic's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Who does he look like?”
Helena stepped backward.
“I said leave.”
Clare moved before Dominic could.
She placed herself between him and the doorway.
“My name is Clare Bennett.”
Helena's eyes widened.
“Evelyn's daughter.”
“You knew my mother?”
“Everyone knew Evelyn.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Helena laughed bitterly.
“You really are her daughter.”
Clare held up Matteo's letter.
“We found this.”
Helena saw the initials.
V.R.
Her expression collapsed.
“Where?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor spent years looking for it.”
Clare looked at Dominic.
“Why?”
Helena sat heavily in a chair beside the door.
“Because your father was going to expose him.”
Dominic stepped inside.
“Expose what?”
Helena closed her eyes.
“The money.”
“We know about the money.”
“No.”
She looked at Adrian.
“You know part of it.”
Adrian's face tightened.
“Then tell me the rest.”
Helena's voice shook.
“Victor didn't create those accounts to steal from you.”
Dominic frowned.
“What?”
“He created them to hide payments.”
“What payments?”
Helena looked at Adrian again.
“Medical payments.”
Clare felt the temperature in the room drop.
“For whom?”
Helena whispered, “Your biological mother.”
Nobody moved.
Adrian stared at her.
Then laughed.
Once.
A hollow sound.
“My biological mother was Rebecca Romano.”
Helena shook her head.
“No.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Stop.”
“Dominic—”
“I said stop.”
But Adrian stood.
“No. Let her talk.”
His face had gone white.
Helena looked at him.
“Rebecca loved you.”
Adrian's hands curled.
“Don't.”
“She raised you.”
“Don't.”
“She was your mother in every way that mattered.”
“Who gave birth to me?”
Helena began crying.
Clare watched Adrian.
Not Helena.
Adrian.
Because she recognized what was happening.
The mind often rejected information before the heart had even understood it.
“Who?” Adrian asked again.
Helena whispered a name.
“Laura Mercer.”
Adrian stared.
Nothing.
The name meant nothing to him.
Dominic looked confused.
“Who was she?”
Helena wiped her face.
“A young woman Victor knew.”
“Knew how?”
Helena looked down.
“He had an affair.”
Dominic's expression changed.
Clare understood first.
“Oh God.”
Helena nodded.
“Laura became pregnant.”
Adrian backed away.
“No.”
“She wanted to keep the baby.”
“No.”
“Victor didn't.”
Adrian turned toward the door.
Clare caught his arm.
“Don't touch me.”
She released him immediately.
He breathed hard.
Helena continued because perhaps there was no gentle way left to continue.
“Rebecca couldn't have another child after Dominic.”
Dominic looked at her.
“What?”
“She and Matteo wanted another baby.”
Adrian turned slowly.
“No.”
Helena nodded.
“Victor arranged it.”
“Arranged what?”
“When Laura gave birth, Rebecca and Matteo adopted you privately.”
Adrian stared at Dominic.
Dominic looked equally shattered.
“You're saying he's not my brother.”
Helena shook her head.
“No.”
Then, through tears, she smiled.
“I'm saying he's your cousin by blood.”
Silence filled the house.
Adrian sat.
For perhaps a full minute, nobody spoke.
Finally he whispered, “Did Dad know?”
“Yes.”
“Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Dominic?”
“No.”
Adrian looked at his brother.
Dominic took a step toward him.
Adrian stood immediately.
“Don't.”
Dominic stopped.
“Adrian.”
“Did everyone know except me?”
“No.”
“Grandparents?”
“Some.”
“Evelyn?”
Helena hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Clare's heart sank.
“My mother knew?”
“She helped arrange the medical paperwork.”
Adrian looked at Clare.
She saw betrayal in his eyes.
Not rational betrayal.
But pain rarely cared about rationality.
“So your mother knew who I was before I did.”
“I didn't know.”
“I know.”
“Adrian—”
“I know.”
He walked outside.
Dominic followed.
Clare stayed with Helena.
There was still something wrong.
Something missing.
“Why did Rebecca say Adrian wasn't safe?”
Helena looked at her.
“Because Laura came back.”
“When?”
“Three years after the adoption.”
“What did she want?”
“Her son.”
Clare looked toward the window.
Adrian stood near the lake.
Dominic several feet behind him.
“Did she threaten them?”
“No.”
“Then why wasn't he safe?”
Helena's expression became terrified.
“Because Victor couldn't allow Laura to tell anyone what he'd done.”
Clare went cold.
“What did he do?”
“He paid her to disappear.”
“That isn't—”
“She refused.”
Clare stopped.
Helena looked at her.
“Two weeks later, Laura Mercer disappeared.”
“Police?”
“She had no family nearby. Victor told everyone she'd moved west.”
“Did she?”
“I don't know.”
“But Rebecca suspected him.”
“Yes.”
“And then Rebecca died.”
Helena began crying again.
Clare stared through the window.
The old story had suddenly become something else.
Not merely financial fraud.
Not merely an adoption.
A missing woman.
A dead mother.
And a man who had spent years trying to destroy a letter.
Clare looked at Helena.
“Before Victor died, did he ever tell you what happened to Laura?”
Helena shook her head.
“But he said one thing.”
“What?”
“He said Rebecca should have minded her own business.”
Clare's stomach tightened.
Outside, Adrian suddenly turned away from Dominic and walked toward the road.
Dominic followed.
Clare ran after them.
She reached the porch just as Adrian shouted.
“Stop following me!”
Dominic froze.
Adrian's face was wet.
Whether from tears or the beginning rain, Clare could not tell.
“You've spent my entire life protecting me from things I didn't even know existed.”
Dominic looked broken.
“I didn't know this.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you angry with me?”
Adrian laughed.
“Because I don't know who else to be angry with.”
That silenced all of them.
Adrian looked toward Clare.
“Tell me something.”
“What?”
“If you discovered Evelyn wasn't your mother, would knowing she loved you make it hurt less?”
Clare thought carefully.
“No.”
Adrian nodded.
“Thank you.”
“But it might matter later.”
He looked at her.
“Later isn't today.”
“No.”
He walked toward the car.
This time Dominic did not follow.
Clare stood beside him.
For several seconds, they watched Adrian disappear down the road.
Dominic whispered, “I should go after him.”
“No.”
“He shouldn't be alone.”
“Maybe not.”
“Then why—”
“Because right now being followed feels like being controlled.”
Dominic looked at her.
“What do I do?”
It was the first time Clare had ever heard Dominic Romano ask that question.
Not rhetorically.
Not angrily.
Honestly.
She took his hand.
“Wait where he can find you.”
Dominic looked down at their hands.
Clare nearly pulled away.
He tightened his fingers.
Not possessively.
May you like
Just enough to say he was there.
And for once, Clare let herself remain there too.
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