[COMPLETED] The Mafia Boss Refused to Marry Me for Eight Years—Then Married My Sister and Recognized His Son at the Airport

"You are not going alone," Mia said as soon as Victoria ended the call.

I hadn't intended to.

I called Diane first. She advised me not to sign anything or discuss estate documents without counsel. Then I called Dante's lawyer using the number he'd given Mia after our meeting. I wanted one question answered before my sister could turn it into a weapon.

"Has Dante told Victoria about Leo?"

The lawyer called back within the hour. Dante hadn't spoken to Victoria since the airport, and he had instructed his household not to contact me. The lawyer couldn't promise what my sister might have learned through others.

That distinction mattered. It wasn't proof of a conspiracy. But it meant somebody had been watching the airport encounter closely enough to report it.

The next morning, I went to Victoria's house with Mia and Diane. Leo stayed at the hotel with his caregiver. Victoria had requested a private meeting; I brought witnesses instead.

She opened the door wearing a pale silk blouse and the same composed expression she'd worn beside Dante at their wedding.

"I said alone."

"And I said I wanted to discuss Dad's papers," I answered. "Diane represents me. Mia stays."

Victoria considered us for a moment before stepping aside.

The house was beautiful in a way I found difficult to admire. Everything looked selected rather than lived in. There were flowers on the entry table and a portrait of our father in the hall. I had never noticed until then that the wedding photograph beside it showed Victoria smiling toward the camera while Dante looked somewhere beyond the frame.

"Does he still live here?" I asked.

"Sometimes," she said. "We have an arrangement."

She led us into a sitting room and gestured toward a stack of papers.

"Father's transfer documents. Sign the acknowledgment, and you can take them to the cemetery yourself."

Diane examined the first page. Her expression remained neutral.

"This is not a cemetery acknowledgment," she said. "It releases claims relating to Carter Logistics and waives an estate accounting."

Victoria's gaze snapped toward her.

"It's standard."

"It is not required for relocation of remains," Diane replied.

I looked at my sister. "You want me to sign away the right to see what Dad found."

"I want you to stop interfering with things you don't understand."

"Then explain the Northbridge payments."

For the first time, Victoria lost a little of her composure.

"Dante gave you that name?"

"Dad did. In his archive."

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

"Our father was ill when he prepared some of those papers. He mistook ordinary accounting arrangements for a scandal."

"There are payments without corresponding services."

"There were corrections underway."

"Then the corrected records should be easy to produce."

She looked away.

I had spent years accepting Victoria's certainty as proof that she knew more than I did. Sitting across from her, I finally recognized certainty as something she could manufacture without answering a question.

"And Leo?" she asked abruptly. "Does Dante know he's the father?"

I went still.

"You don't get to ask about him as though he's part of a contract."

"Dante has responsibilities. You can't conceal a child forever."

"I know that. I'm speaking to him through counsel."

"He won't leave you alone now."

"That is for me and the court to address if necessary. It isn't your decision."

Victoria stood and moved toward the wedding photograph. For a moment I saw the sister who used to stand at the bathroom mirror beside me, telling me to hold my shoulders straight and never let strangers see me cry.

"You think I wanted a marriage like this?" she asked.

"You asked for it."

"I wanted stability. Father had made a mess of the accounts, Voss was threatening everything, and Dante was the only man who could stop him."

"By marrying you?"

"By tying himself to the company he needed to protect. The marriage made it harder for him to walk away from the agreement."

At last, she admitted the purpose of the wedding without pretending it was romantic.

"You could have told me," I said.

"And watched you beg him to marry you again?"

The cruelty was delivered so casually that I almost missed it.

"You knew I'd been waiting eight years."

"Everyone knew."

I stood.

"Then everyone had a chance to tell me the truth. Nobody did."

Victoria's expression sharpened. "You don't know what would have happened if I hadn't stepped in."

"Neither do you," Diane said. "Without complete records, nobody can verify the warning you claim to have received."

Victoria dismissed us soon afterward. We left the unsigned release on her table.

Outside, Mia caught my elbow.

"She never once asked how Leo was doing."

"No," I said. "She asked whether Dante knew."

Diane received a message as we reached the car. Samuel Price's old accounting firm had confirmed he'd left after disputing the Carter Logistics reconciliation. They provided a forwarding address with his permission to be contacted by counsel.

We met him that afternoon in a small office arranged by Diane.

Samuel was older than I expected, with patient eyes and a folder he'd kept in a locked cabinet after leaving the company. He wouldn't hand it over until Diane explained why I had a legal interest in the audit.

"Your father asked me to verify twelve payments," he said. "I found the money went to Northbridge, but the services didn't exist. When I requested the underlying approvals, I was told Victoria had classified them."

"Did you find out who authorized them?"

"Not conclusively. But I copied the payment instructions before I resigned."

He slid a document across the desk.

The payments had been approved through an account bearing my father's name.

At first I thought Samuel was confirming Victoria's claim that Dad had made a mess of the books.

Then he pointed to the dates.

"Your father was in Switzerland visiting you during two of these approvals," Samuel said. "He sent me his travel records when I questioned them. Someone used his authority while he was away."

I remembered that visit. Dad had held Leo in my kitchen, looking astonished that a child so small could sleep so completely against a man's shoulder. It was one of the few peaceful afternoons we'd shared after I left Chicago.

The signatures on the payments were not proof of his involvement.