SERIES : The Locket Before the Vows

They returned to the mansion only after federal teams swept it twice.

By evening, news networks were reporting arrests connected to a multistate corruption and trafficking investigation.

Celeste Kensington’s name appeared first.

Warren Pike’s second.

Then a judge.

A senator.

Three executives.

And Damian Vale.

Damian watched his own face appear on television.

“Fair.”

Matteo stood across the room.

“You’re going to testify?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll go to prison.”

“Probably.”

“You could ask for immunity.”

“I won’t.”

Matteo’s expression shifted.

“You think punishment makes you my father?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Damian nodded.

“I’m not asking you for anything.”

That answer affected Matteo more than pleading would have.

He left the room.

Galen sat in the library with Elena.

Between them lay a printed copy of Marco’s master ledger.

One Rossi name appeared nineteen times.

Vittorio Rossi.

Galen’s father.

He had died six years earlier.

Elena touched the page.

“I’m sorry.”

Galen stared at the name.

“My father built the company.”

“Yes.”

“He taught Marco and me that family came before everything.”

“People are often most eloquent about the rules they break.”

Galen looked at her.

“You knew?”

“I suspected.”

“When?”

“Near the end.”

“And you never told me.”

“I had no proof until Marco’s records.”

Galen stood and walked toward the old fireplace.

He remembered his father’s funeral.

Hundreds of men standing in black.

Stories of loyalty.

Stories of strength.

All of it now contaminated.

“What did he do?”

Elena came beside him.

“According to the ledger, Vittorio gave the Kensington network access to shipping routes in exchange for political protection.”

“Protection from what?”

“Investigations into weapons trafficking.”

Galen closed his eyes.

“So the Concord was inside us before Marco died.”

“Yes.”

“Did Marco know?”

“Eventually.”

“That’s why they killed him.”

“Partly.”

Galen turned.

“What else?”

Elena hesitated.

“Your father ordered Marco to end his relationship with Ainsley.”

“That sounds like him.”

“He also told Celeste she could take Lily.”

Galen’s face changed.

“He handed his granddaughter to them?”

“He called her a liability.”

Rage climbed through him.

“My father?”

“Yes.”

Galen walked away.

For years, he had blamed himself for not protecting Marco.

Now he understood the betrayal had begun one generation earlier.

Eira entered carrying two mugs of cocoa.

“I made one for Mommy.”

Elena smiled.

“What about Daddy?”

Eira looked at him.

“He drinks coffee when he’s mad.”

Galen laughed despite himself.

Eira handed Elena the mug.

“Can I ask something?”

“Anything.”

“Are you and Daddy married?”

Galen and Elena looked at each other.

Technically, yes.

Legally, Elena had been declared dead.

Their marriage had ended by death certificate.

Her return created complications no one in the room wanted to explain to an eight-year-old.

Elena answered carefully.

“We were married.”

“But you weren’t dead.”

“No.”

“So are you still married?”

Galen said, “That is a lawyer question.”

Eira looked toward the hall.

“Not Damian.”

Elena nearly choked on cocoa.

Galen smiled.

“No. Not Damian.”

Eira sat between them.

“Do you still love each other?”

Silence.

Eira looked from one to the other.

“This is taking too long.”

Elena laughed.

Galen rubbed his forehead.

“Elena.”

“What?”

“You answer.”

“Coward.”

“Absolutely.”

Eira grinned for the first time all day.

Elena set down the mug.

“I never stopped loving your father.”

Galen looked at her.

Eira turned to him.

“Well?”

He looked at Elena.

Five years of grief.

Five years of anger.

A thousand things unresolved.

“I never stopped either.”

Elena’s eyes filled.

Eira nodded as if confirming data.

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” Galen asked.

“Yes.”

“You interrogated us for that?”

“I wanted to know.”

She slid off the sofa.

“Lily’s awake.”

Ainsley had been moved to the mansion under medical supervision because Lily refused to leave her.

When Galen entered the guest suite, Ainsley was awake.

Lily sat by the window.

They were not speaking.

Ainsley looked at Galen.

“I need to tell you something.”

“If it is another secret, make it the last.”

“It is.”

He doubted that.

Ainsley took a shallow breath.

“Your father knew Elena survived.”

Galen froze.

Elena, behind him, stopped.

“What?”

Ainsley’s eyes moved to her.

“He knew.”

Elena came closer.

“How?”

“My mother told him.”

“But Vittorio died a year before the explosion,” Galen said.

Ainsley shook her head.

“No. Your father did not die when you think he did.”

The room became silent.

Galen stared.

“I buried him.”

“You buried a closed casket after a private medical death in Switzerland.”

Galen’s pulse changed.

Elena whispered, “Galen.”

He remembered.

His father had supposedly died of a sudden heart attack while abroad.

The body had been returned sealed because of “medical complications.”

Damian had handled everything.

Galen turned toward the doorway.

Damian stood there.

His face told the truth.

Galen crossed the room and grabbed him.

“He’s alive?”

Damian closed his eyes.

“Yes.”

Matteo moved quickly between them.

Galen shoved him aside.

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“You knew for six years?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He was the Concord’s founder.”

The words emptied the room of air.

Celeste was not the top.

Warren Pike was not.

The network that had destroyed Marco, hunted Elena, used Ainsley, threatened Lily, controlled Damian, and manipulated Galen’s companies had begun with Vittorio Rossi.

Galen’s own father.

Elena spoke quietly.

“Then why is Celeste listed as director in the ledger?”

Damian answered.

“Because Vittorio stepped back. He wanted everyone to believe he was dead.”

Galen laughed bitterly.

“Runs in the family.”

Elena flinched.

He regretted it immediately.

Damian continued.

“Celeste managed operations. Vittorio held the emergency accounts and kompromat archive.”

“Where?”

“I never knew.”

Ainsley raised her hand weakly.

“I do.”

Everyone looked at her.

“My mother visited him twice a year.”

“Where?”

“A monastery estate in northern Vermont.”

Matteo frowned.

“That’s too exposed.”

“It is privately owned under a conservation trust.”

Ainsley gave the name.

Damian went pale.

“Black Hollow.”

Galen looked at him.

“You know it.”

“I signed the trust.”

“Of course you did.”

Damian accepted the contempt.

Elena looked at Galen.

“You cannot go there angry.”

He stared.

“My father let me bury him.”

“I know.”

“He let me believe Marco died in an accident.”

“I know.”

“He hunted you.”

“I know.”

“He endangered Eira.”

Elena stepped closer.

“That is why you cannot go there angry.”

“What would you prefer?”

“Clear.”

He laughed without humor.

“You disappear for five years and come back giving strategy.”

Her eyes hardened.

“Yes.”

He stopped.

“You want to fight with me?” she asked. “Fine. We have enough pain for years. But do not use me as an excuse to become stupid.”

Eira stood in the doorway again.

Galen closed his eyes.

“Does anyone in this house understand doors?”

“No,” Eira said.

Elena covered a smile.

Eira walked to Galen.

“Grandpa’s alive?”

He nodded.

“Was he bad?”

Galen crouched.

“Yes.”

“How bad?”

He looked at Elena.

Then back.

“He hurt our family and many other people.”

“Are you going to kill him?”

No one moved.

Galen had killed men before.

Eira knew what his world was, but they had never spoken this directly.

He answered carefully.

“No.”

Elena looked at him.

Galen continued.

“I am going to make sure he cannot hurt anyone again.”

Eira searched his face.

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

This time he could promise.

Because whatever happened at Black Hollow, Vittorio Rossi would not get the ending he had given everyone else.

Not disappearance.

Not silence.

Truth.

That night, Galen went alone to the room that had once belonged to Vittorio.

The staff had kept it almost untouched after his supposed death.

Dark suits remained in the wardrobe.

A silver-backed brush sat on the dresser.

Family photographs covered one wall.

Galen found one of himself and Marco as boys, both muddy after a storm, Vittorio standing behind them with one hand on each shoulder.

For years, Galen had seen protection in that photograph.

Now he saw possession.

Elena found him there.

“You don’t have to throw everything away.”

He held up the picture.

“How do I know which memory was real?”

“The memory was real.”

“The man wasn’t.”

“He was both.”

Galen looked at her.

“That sounds too easy.”

“It isn’t.”

She took the photograph.

“A person can love you and still betray you. A person can protect you one day and sacrifice someone else the next. If you require the past to become simple before you can live with it, you’ll spend the rest of your life trapped there.”

He stared at the empty wardrobe.

“I sound like him sometimes.”

Elena did not deny it.

That frightened him.

“You do.”

Galen looked at her sharply.

She continued.

“You also stop when Eira says she’s afraid. He didn’t. You admit when you’re wrong. Eventually.”

“Eventually?”

“I’m being generous.”

He almost smiled.

Elena touched his hand.