Chapter 8 - THE TRUTH ABOUT OLIVIA
I looked at Isabelle.
“Tell me.”
She couldn't.
Not at first.
Olivia stood beside Marco.
She was holding his hand.
She looked confused.
I didn't want to ask the question.
But I had spent fourteen months living inside unanswered questions.
I needed the truth.
“Who is Olivia's father?”
Isabelle closed her eyes.
“Dominic.”
“Tell me.”
Victor laughed.
“She was born before your wedding.”
I looked at Isabelle.
“That doesn't answer the question.”
Isabelle whispered:
“Salvatore.”
Silence.
I looked at Salvatore.
He didn't deny it.
My world collapsed.
“You?”
He nodded.
“Olivia is my granddaughter.”
I looked at Olivia.
Then at Isabelle.
Then at Salvatore.
“How?”
“Before you and Isabelle married,” Salvatore said, “she and I had a relationship.”
I stared.
“She was twenty-four.”
“She was.”
“You knew?”
Victor laughed.
“She knew exactly what she was doing.”
Isabelle turned toward him.
“Stop.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
Isabelle looked at me.
“I was pregnant when I met you.”
My heart broke.
I remembered our first meeting.
The way she had told me she had no family.
The way she had looked at me when I proposed.
I remembered Olivia being born.
I remembered holding her.
I remembered crying.
Because I had believed she was mine.
“I thought she was mine.”
“She was yours.”
I stared.
“That's not what you just said.”
Isabelle stepped closer.
“Blood isn't the only thing that makes a father.”
I looked at Olivia.
She looked back at me.
“Daddy?”
That word destroyed every argument I could have made.
I walked to her.
I knelt.
She wrapped her arms around my neck.
I held her.
Victor shouted:
“You're being sentimental!”
I looked over my daughter's shoulder.
“No.”
My voice was calm.
“I'm being her father.”
Victor raised his gun.
Marco moved.
A shot exploded.
Victor dropped.
For a second, nobody moved.
Then Grace screamed.
I turned.
She had been hit.
Blood spread across her shoulder.
“Grace!”
I caught her before she fell.
She gripped my shirt.
“Don't let him take Nora.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the warehouse doors.
“There's another man.”
“What man?”
Her eyes widened.
“The one Isabelle was afraid of.”
I looked outside.
A black SUV accelerated away.
Salvatore shouted:
“That's him!”
“Who?”
He stared at the departing vehicle.
“Your father's brother.”
I froze.
“My uncle died thirty years ago.”
Salvatore shook his head.
“No.”
Then he looked at Isabelle.
“He was the one who started all of this.”
Isabelle nodded.
“He wanted the Romano empire.”
My phone buzzed.
A video had arrived.
I opened it.
The screen showed Nora.
She was sitting in a room.
A man's voice spoke behind the camera.
“Dominic.”
I stared.
“Come to the old Romano estate.”
The man laughed.
“Come alone.”
The video ended.
Then a second message appeared.
Bring Isabelle.
I looked at my wife.
For fourteen months, I had believed the worst day of my life was the day she died.
I was wrong.
The worst day was the day I learned she was alive.
May you like
Because now someone had taken our daughter.
And this time, I had no intention of coming home without her.
