Chapter 3 - The Lie Grace Was Paid to Believe

Grace did not hug Dante immediately.

She stood three feet away.

Studying his face.

His beard.

His eyes.

The shape of his mouth.

Then she touched his cheek.

One finger.

Like she expected him to disappear.

“You have Antonio’s eyes.”

Dante’s voice broke.

“You knew my father?”

Grace laughed through tears.

“Knew him?”

She looked at Frank.

Then back at Dante.

“I loved him.”

Frank lowered his head.

Dante picked up the blanket.

Grace saw it.

Her knees nearly gave out.

I caught her arm.

She looked at me.

“Thank you.”

Then she touched the corner with the stitched initials.

“I made this.”

Dante stared.

“Frank said you didn’t.”

Frank corrected him.

“I said the woman who raised you didn’t.”

Grace nodded.

“I made it while I was pregnant.”

Dante’s eyes filled again.

“Why did they tell me you didn’t?”

Grace smiled sadly.

“Because they needed every trace of me removed.”

She led us into a private sitting room.

No guards.

No marble.

No chandeliers.

Just a sofa.

A lamp.

A wooden cross on the wall.

Dante sat across from her.

Frank remained near the door.

I sat farther away.

Grace folded the blanket in her lap.

Dante asked the first question.

“Did you believe I was dead?”

“Yes.”

“For twenty-nine years?”

“Yes.”

“Who told you?”

“My father.”

“Thomas Blake.”

She nodded.

“And Robert.”

Dante looked toward the window.

“He admitted it.”

Grace closed her eyes.

“So he finally stopped.”

“Stopped what?”

“Pretending he was different.”

Dante leaned forward.

Grace looked at him carefully.

“My father controlled everything.”

“Robert said you found financial records.”

“I did.”

“What records?”

“Shipping ledgers.”

Frank shifted.

Grace noticed.

“You remember.”

Frank nodded.

“I drove Antonio the night he learned what Thomas had done.”

Dante looked between them.

Grace explained.

“My father was moving weapons through Blake Freight.”

“To my father’s associates?”

“At first.”

“At first?”

“Then he started supplying their enemies too.”

Dante’s face hardened.

Grace continued.

“He wanted both sides dependent on him.”

“Why didn’t my father stop him?”

“He tried.”

Frank spoke.

“Antonio was twenty-five. Thomas was already powerful.”

Grace nodded.

“Then I became pregnant.”

Dante looked at her.

Grace smiled faintly.

“Your father wanted to leave Chicago.”

Dante blinked.

“What?”

“He wanted out.”

Frank looked surprised.

Grace turned to him.

“You never knew?”

“No.”

“Antonio planned to sell his share of the transport business and move west.”

Dante stared at the floor.

His entire life had been built on a different story.

Grace continued.

“My father discovered the plan.”

“What did he do?”

“He made Antonio choose.”

“Between what?”

“The Moretti family and me.”

Dante looked up.

“And he chose you.”

“For one night.”

Grace’s voice cracked.

Dante frowned.

“What happened?”

“My father had him arrested.”

Frank whispered:

“Gun charge.”

Grace nodded.

“Planted weapon.”

Dante’s jaw tightened.

“I know that arrest.”

“He spent six weeks in county jail.”

“My family always said it was a misunderstanding.”

“It was leverage.”

Grace looked at the blanket.

“While he was inside, my father moved me to a private hospital.”

“And I was born.”

“Yes.”

“What happened next?”

Grace did not answer immediately.

Then:

“You were taken from my room.”

Dante’s hands closed.

“By who?”

“I never saw.”

“Robert?”

“No.”

“Thomas?”

“No.”

Frank’s face changed.

Grace noticed.

“What?”

Frank looked at Dante.

“I know who.”

The room became silent.

Dante stood.

“Say it.”

Frank swallowed.

“Your father’s older brother.”

Dante stopped.

“Victor?”

Frank nodded.

Victor Moretti.

Dead thirteen years.

The man Dante had grown up calling Uncle Victor.

The man whose portrait still hung in the library.

Grace looked confused.

“Antonio had a brother?”

Dante stared at Frank.

“She didn’t know him?”

“No.”

Frank looked sick.

“Victor worked overseas then.”

Grace’s hands began shaking.

“Why would he take my baby?”

Frank answered slowly.

“Because Thomas paid him.”

Dante’s face lost color.

“How much?”

“I don’t know.”

“Frank.”

“I don’t know.”

Dante turned away.

He pressed both hands against the mantel.

Grace whispered:

“What did Victor do with him?”

Frank looked at her.

“He gave Dante to Antonio.”

Grace stared.

“That makes no sense.”

“It did to Victor.”

Frank took a breath.

“He told Antonio Grace died after childbirth.”

Grace covered her mouth.

Dante slowly turned.

“And he told Grace I died.”

Frank nodded.

“Victor created both lies.”

Grace began crying again.

“Why?”

Frank looked down.

“Because Thomas wanted the scandal buried.”

Dante shook his head.

“No.”

Everyone looked at him.

“No.”

He pointed toward the door.

“Robert funded this place for three years. He knew she was alive.”

“Yes.”

“That means this is not just an old lie.”

Grace looked at Dante.

He continued.

“Someone still needed us apart.”

Frank’s face tightened.

Dante turned toward Grace.

“Why did you come back three years ago?”

Grace wiped her face.

“Because I received a letter.”

Dante stopped.

“From who?”

“I never knew.”

“What did it say?”

“That Antonio Moretti did not die in the accident everyone reported.”

Frank pushed away from the wall.

“What?”

Dante stared.

“My father died ten years ago.”

Grace shook her head.

“The letter said he survived.”

Silence.

Dante whispered:

“Do you still have it?”

Grace looked toward a locked cabinet.

“Yes.”

She opened it.

Inside were three envelopes.

She gave Dante the first.

Typed message.

No signature.

ANTONIO MORETTI SURVIVED THE CRASH.

HE WAS MOVED BEFORE POLICE ARRIVED.

IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY, RETURN TO CHICAGO.

Dante read it twice.

Frank whispered:

“That crash burned the car.”

Grace gave Dante the second letter.

Dated six months later.

YOU ARE CLOSE.

ASK ROBERT BLAKE ABOUT HARBOR HOUSE.

Dante looked up.

“Harbor House?”

Grace shook her head.

“I asked Robert.”

“What did he say?”

“That it was nonsense.”

Dante opened the third envelope.

This one was newer.

Two weeks old.

The same week Grace saw his engagement announcement.

Only one line.

IF DANTE MARRIES MARINA BLAKE, THE LAST PART OF THE DEAL WILL BE COMPLETE.

Dante stopped breathing.

Frank stared.

I felt cold despite the heat.

Grace looked at her son.

“What deal?”

Dante folded the paper.

His expression changed.

Grief disappeared.

Something harder replaced it.

“I’m going back to the mansion.”

Grace grabbed his wrist.

“No.”

He looked at her.

She held on.

“You just found me.”

Dante’s face softened.

Grace whispered:

“Do not disappear into their war before I know who my son became.”

Dante looked at her hand on his wrist.

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Then sat back down.

For the first time that night, he chose not to leave.