Chapter 3
For two years, I had forced myself to accept the official story.
Matteo and his wife Elena died because their boat engine failed during a sudden storm on Lake Como.
That was what the report said.
Mechanical failure.
Bad weather.
Tragic timing.
I hated every word.
But I had signed the papers.
Buried my brother.
Buried Elena.
Brought Ethan and Mia home.
Told them their parents loved them.
Told myself I had to stop asking questions because grief can turn a man mad if he feeds it too long.
Now Special Agent Cole Mercer stood in my valet court and told me the accident had never been an accident.
Lucinda sat very still.
Grant stopped demanding anything.
That told me enough to follow Mercer inside without looking back.
We used the executive office behind the lobby.
Evelyn came with me.
Mercer placed a folder on the desk.
“Before we begin, are Ethan and Mia safe?”
“They’re being taken to St. Vincent’s.”
“Good.”
“What do my sister and her husband have to do with Matteo?”
Mercer did not soften it.
“Possibly everything.”
The words did not explode.
They sank.
Heavy and cold.
He opened the folder.
Photos.
Boat wreckage.
Insurance documents.
Trust structures.
A transfer record I had never seen.
My brother’s signature.
Or something made to look like it.
Mercer pointed.
“Three weeks before Matteo died, he changed the children’s trust protections.”
“He told me.”
“He also added a death-contingency clause. If both children died before age eighteen, controlling interest in the Romano Estate hospitality group would move to the nearest adult Romano sibling.”
I went still.
“Lucinda.”
“Yes.”
“That clause was removed after I became guardian.”
Mercer nodded.
“By you. But before the removal was finalized, someone attempted to trigger related insurance inquiries.”
Evelyn leaned forward.
“Who?”
Mercer turned a page.
“Grant Vale.”
My jaw tightened.
“Grant was nowhere near Como.”
“No. But his private company held a minority contract with the boat maintenance firm.”
I looked down at the photos.
My brother’s boat.
Broken hull.
Dark water.
Then I saw another document.
A message.
Grant to Lucinda.
If the old plan failed, the kids are still the key.
My hands turned numb.
Evelyn whispered, “Oh my God.”
Mercer watched me carefully.
“We found this last week during a financial crimes investigation. We were preparing to approach you quietly. Then today happened.”
Today.
Mia saying she was hungry.
Ethan barely conscious.
Grant asking why they were still alive.
Lucinda spinning the key like a bored teenager.
My sister.
My blood.
I stood.
Evelyn touched my arm.
“Silvio.”
I stopped.
Barely.
Mercer said, “If you confront them now without us, you risk the case.”
“They almost killed my children.”
“I know.”
“They may have killed my brother.”
“I know.”
“You do not know what I am capable of when my family is hunted.”
Mercer’s eyes did not move.
“I know enough to ask whether you want revenge that lasts five minutes or justice that survives court.”
I hated him for being right.
I sat back down.
“Tell me what you need.”
“We need access to all estate cameras, family financial records, old boat maintenance files, staff communications, and any private recordings from the past three years.”
“Done.”
“We also need Ethan and Mia interviewed by specialists.”
“They’re seven and five.”
“Yes.”
“They’ve been through enough.”
“They may know more than they understand.”
I looked away.
That was the part that broke me.
Children always knew more than adults prayed they did.
At the hospital, Mia refused to let go of my hand.
Ethan slept with monitors attached, his little face finally cooling.
The pediatric specialist said they would recover physically.
Physically.
That word had edges.
A CPS worker named Hannah Lane asked Mia gentle questions.
I stayed until Mia said I could.
Then I waited outside the room with my back against the wall, feeling more helpless than I had in any boardroom, courtroom, or street fight.
Evelyn stood beside me.
“You need to eat.”
“No.”
“Drink water.”
“No.”
“Then listen. You cannot fall apart.”
“I’m not.”
“You are standing very still. That is your version.”
I almost laughed.
Could not.
The door opened.
Hannah stepped out.
Her face was composed, but her eyes were wet.
“What?”
She lowered her voice.
“Mia says this was not the first time they were confined.”
My throat closed.
“Where?”
“Old laundry room. Wine storage closet. Once in a luggage room.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Hannah continued.
“She says Grant called them ‘temporary problems.’ Lucinda told them if they cried, Uncle Silvio would send them to boarding school separately.”
I gripped the wall.
The plaster cracked beneath my fingers.
“Mia also said something else.”
“What?”
“She said Grant and Lucinda practiced a story with them.”
“What story?”
“That Ethan opened the car by himself, climbed in, and locked Mia inside with him.”
I looked through the glass at Ethan’s sleeping form.
“He’s five.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
Hannah hesitated.
“She said Lucinda told them it worked once before with water.”
The hallway went silent.
Water.
The lake.
Matteo.
Elena.
My heart pounded once.
Hard.
I turned away because if Mia saw my face, she would be frightened.
Evelyn spoke for me.
“Can that statement be used?”
“With a forensic interview, yes.”
Mercer arrived twenty minutes later.
I repeated what Hannah said.
He went very still.
“We need to secure Lucinda and Grant before they disappear.”
“Where are they?”
“Still at the estate under police supervision.”
My phone rang before he could say more.
Marco.
I answered.
His voice was tight.
“Sir, Lucinda collapsed. Ambulance is here.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Collapsed how?”
“She claims chest pain.”
Grant shouted in the background.
“She needs a hospital! Move!”
I looked at Mercer.
He mouthed one word.
Stall.
I said into the phone, “No one rides with her except police.”
Marco paused.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“Grant is gone.”
The world went cold.
“How?”
“Private service corridor. Vince from security let him through.”
I closed my eyes.
There was always someone bought.
Always.
Mercer was already moving.
“Lock the estate. Alert state police. Freeze his accounts.”
Then Mia screamed from inside the room.
I ran in.
She sat upright in bed, sobbing, pointing at the television.
A breaking news banner filled the screen.
ROMANO CHILDREN IN HOSPITAL AFTER ESTATE INCIDENT.
Below it was a photo of me carrying Mia.
Then Grant’s statement flashed.
Silvio Romano is unstable and dangerous. The children were removed from him for their own safety.
Mia shook violently.
“He’s lying!”
I pulled her into my arms.
“I know.”
“They’ll believe him.”
“No.”
“He said everyone believes grown-ups with nice clothes.”
I looked at the screen.
Grant’s face appeared in a recorded video, calm and wounded.
Then he said the sentence that told me exactly where he was going.
“For years, I have feared what Silvio would do if anyone questioned how Matteo really died.”
Evelyn cursed softly.
May you like
Grant was not running from the lake crash.
He was trying to pin it on me.
