Chương 3 - THE BLOOD TEST
For twelve seconds, nobody moved.
Sienna counted because counting kept the room from tipping.
One.
Two.
Three.
Dante stood behind her.
Lucia sat beside the untouched breakfast.
Snow pressed against the windows.
At twelve, Sienna finally spoke.
“No.”
Lucia’s face tightened.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
Sienna pointed toward herself.
“You just told me I’m related to him.”
Dante looked as if he wanted to leave his own body.
Lucia raised one hand.
“I told you what I was told.”
Sienna stopped.
“What?”
Lucia swallowed.
“My brother Luca claimed the baby was his.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Claimed?”
“Yes.”
“Mother.”
“I never saw proof.”
Sienna’s anger sharpened.
“You waited until after saying ‘my niece’ to mention that?”
Lucia closed her eyes.
“That was wrong.”
“Extremely.”
“Yes.”
Dante walked toward the table.
“What exactly happened twenty-eight years ago?”
Lucia looked older suddenly.
Not elegant.
Not dangerous.
Tired.
“My brother Luca was twenty-nine.”
Dante leaned against the table.
Sienna remained standing.
Lucia continued.
“He was involved in the family business, but unlike Carlo, he wanted out.”
“Carlo was Dante’s father?”
“Yes.”
Sienna nodded.
“Keep going.”
“Luca had been working with a state investigator.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“What?”
“You did not know.”
“That is becoming obvious.”
Lucia looked at her son.
“He believed Carlo and the Santoros were becoming too violent.”
Dante said nothing.
“He collected records. Payments. Port arrangements. Judges. Police.”
“The ledger,” Sienna said.
“One of them.”
Her stomach tightened.
“One of them?”
Lucia looked at Dante.
“The book Rocco wants is not simply a bribery ledger.”
“What is it?”
“A record of who ordered what.”
Dante’s face changed.
Lucia continued.
“Not just payments. Violence. Disappearances. Retaliation.”
Sienna felt cold.
“And Luca had it?”
“For a time.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Luca’s girlfriend became pregnant.”
Sienna stopped breathing.
“Who?”
“Her name was Elena Ricci.”
Dante frowned.
“I have never heard that name.”
“You were ten.”
Lucia continued.
“Elena gave birth in a private clinic connected to the family. There was a threat that night.”
“From Santoro?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they believed Luca was cooperating with investigators.”
Sienna folded her arms around herself.
“The baby.”
“Luca told me she was his daughter.”
“But?”
“But Elena told Marco Moretti something different.”
Sienna’s heart kicked.
“What?”
Lucia looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
“That is convenient.”
“I know.”
“Did Marco tell you?”
“He said only that Luca was protecting the child’s real father.”
Sienna stared.
Dante straightened.
“Who was the real father?”
“Marco refused to say.”
“Why?”
“Because names were killing people.”
That sentence sounded like her father.
Sienna looked toward the door.
Her entire identity had become a room full of people saying maybe.
“So Anna and Marco took the baby.”
“Yes.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“Did they adopt me?”
“Legally, you are their daughter. The records were altered before the final filing.”
Sienna laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Lucia continued.
“Luca disappeared three weeks later.”
“Dead?”
“We believe so.”
“Believe?”
“No body.”
Dante looked away.
Another family disappearance.
“And Elena?” Sienna asked.
“Dead.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Sienna laughed without humor.
“Actual accident?”
Lucia looked down.
“I don’t know.”
That phrase again.
Sienna turned to Dante.
“This engagement is over.”
His eyes met hers.
“It never began.”
“Good.”
“Until we know whether we are related.”
“Correct.”
He said it instantly.
No hesitation.
That mattered.
Sienna looked toward Lucia.
“So what now?”
“DNA.”
Dante answered.
Sienna frowned.
“You have Luca’s DNA?”
“No.”
Lucia nodded slowly.
“I do.”
Both turned.
“How?” Dante asked.
“Your grandmother kept hair from all three children.”
Dante stared.
“Why?”
“She was Italian.”
Lucia said it as though that explained everything.
Maybe it did.
“Hair can work if roots remain,” Dante said.
Lucia looked surprised.
“You know genetics?”
“I know evidence.”
Sienna said, “Of course you do.”
A private lab arrived at the estate three hours later.
Not a Valente doctor.
Sienna insisted.
The lab technician explained chain of custody.
Buccal sample from Sienna.
Reference sample from Lucia.
Preserved hair from Luca if viable.
If Sienna were Luca’s biological daughter, Lucia would show a strong aunt relationship.
If not, the result would be clear enough.
Forty-eight hours.
Sienna hated every second before it began.
Then they went to the storage unit.
Not alone.
Dante brought security.
Sienna agreed after making him keep them outside the aisle unless needed.
The storage facility sat near Pilsen beneath an elevated rail line.
Unit 403.
Sienna had not opened it in almost two years.
The blue dollhouse stood beneath a sheet at the back.
Seeing it hurt.
Her mother had painted tiny white shutters by hand.
Sienna remembered sitting on the kitchen floor while Anna sanded wood.
She remembered Marco complaining the roof was crooked.
She remembered believing adults could fix everything with glue.
Now she lifted the sheet.
The dollhouse looked smaller.
Dante stood behind her.
“This?”
“Yes.”
He did not touch it.
Good.
Sienna crouched.
Her father had said never open it.
But what did that mean?
The doors opened normally.
Furniture still inside.
Tiny table.
Plastic bed.
Miniature stove.
Nothing.
Dante said, “Hidden compartment.”
“You sound too happy.”
“I like hidden compartments.”
“That is disturbing.”
She checked the base.
Solid.
Roof.
Hollow sound.
Sienna stopped.
Her mother had once told her never to pull the chimney because it was fragile.
She reached.
The chimney came free.
Inside was a brass key.
No ledger.
Dante took one breath.
“Safety deposit.”
“Maybe.”
The key had a number.
117.
And an old bank name.
LAKE MICHIGAN TRUST.
Dante’s face changed.
“What?”
“That bank closed twelve years ago.”
“Where did boxes go?”
“Successor institution.”
“Which?”
“Valente Private Bank.”
Sienna stared.
“Your family owns a bank.”
“Minority interest.”
“Of course.”
He took out his phone.
She held up one hand.
“No calls yet.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone inside that bank knows Rocco wants this, a call from you is a flare.”
Dante looked at her.
Then nodded.
“Good.”
She hated how satisfying that felt.
A sound came from the aisle.
Metal door.
Footsteps.
Dante immediately moved in front of her.
She caught his sleeve.
“What?”
“If they want me, hiding me behind you is not a strategy.”
“It is if I am wearing armor.”
She stared.
“You are wearing armor?”
“Always.”
“That explains your posture.”
Footsteps stopped.
One of Dante’s guards appeared.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Vehicle outside. Gray sedan. Two men.”
“Santoro?”
“Unknown.”
Dante looked at Sienna.
“We leave through the rear.”
“No.”
His eyes hardened.
“Sienna.”
“The key.”
“What about it?”
“If they followed us here, they know this unit.”
“Maybe.”
“So if we run, they search it.”
“Let them.”
“And know we found something.”
Dante went still.
Sienna pointed at the dollhouse.
“We need them to believe we found nothing.”
He stared for half a second.
Then smiled.
Not warm.
Predatory.
“You are very good at this.”
“I wait tables.”
“That is not the same.”
“People lie about tips. Same skill.”
Dante’s guard almost smiled.
They staged the unit.
Sienna threw two old boxes onto the floor.
Opened drawers.
Moved clothes.
Made it look searched.
She put the brass key inside her bra.
Dante noticed.
“Do not comment.”
“I was not going to.”
“Your face commented.”
They left through the front ten minutes later.
Sienna looked angry.
That part required no acting.
Dante carried an empty box.
Outside, the gray sedan remained.
Two men watched.
Sienna opened her hands dramatically.
“Nothing,” she said loudly.
Dante slammed the trunk.
They drove away.
No pursuit.
At the estate, Lucia listened.
“Lake Michigan Trust.”
Her face went white.
“You know box 117.”
“Yes.”
“What is inside?”
Lucia looked at Sienna.
“The original engagement contract.”
Sienna stared.
“What?”
Dante frowned.
“What engagement?”
Lucia closed her eyes.
“Not yours.”
She looked at her son.
“Mine.”
Silence.
Lucia continued.
“Before I married your father, Carlo arranged my engagement to Rocco Santoro.”
Dante stopped.
Sienna whispered, “Rocco?”
“Yes.”
“The man trying to kill you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To end a war.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“You were promised to him.”
Lucia nodded.
“I refused.”
“What happened?”
“Carlo married me to your father’s cousin—your father—”
Wait, Lucia is Dante's mother; Carlo should be Dante's father. Need sentence. Let's correct: “Carlo was your father.” Yes. Lucia married Carlo, not cousin. Continue.
Lucia took a breath.
“Carlo was your father. He married me instead. That humiliation never left Rocco.”
Sienna stared.
“So this war is partly because you rejected him thirty years ago?”
“Men have started wars for less.”
Dante looked furious.
“Why was the contract in that box?”
“Because the contract was written beside a second document.”
“What document?”
Lucia’s voice lowered.
“A list of assets transferred to Santoro as compensation when I refused.”
Sienna felt cold.
“Assets meaning?”
“Businesses.”
“Anything else?”
Lucia looked at Dante.
“One child.”
The room went silent.
Sienna stopped breathing.
“What?”
Lucia whispered:
“Luca’s baby.”
Dante’s face emptied.
Lucia continued.
“Carlo promised Santoro custody of the child if the family peace collapsed.”
Sienna stepped back.
“You mean me.”
“I don’t know.”
Her voice broke.
“That is why Marco hid you.”
Sienna stared at the woman who had used her as a fake fiancée in a tea shop.
Twenty-eight years earlier, Lucia had escaped one forced engagement.
And somewhere in the documents that followed, a baby had been promised as compensation.
May you like
If Sienna was that baby, Rocco Santoro had not merely discovered her by accident.
He may have believed she had belonged to him all along.
