Chapter 3 - The Secret in the Cellar
Vincent gasped for air, his face turning a deep, mottled purple before Damian finally released his grip. The older man stumbled, clutching his throat, coughing violently. The arrogance had been temporarily choked out of him, replaced by a venomous, unadulterated hatred.
""You're making a catastrophic mistake, Damian,"" Vincent wheezed, adjusting his silk tie with shaking fingers. ""Playing savior to stray dogs will get you killed. The family syndicate is already questioning your leadership after Leonardo's death. Aligning yourself with trash makes you look weak.""
""My strength is none of your concern,"" Damian replied coldly, smoothing the lapels of his suit jacket as if brushing away dirt. ""Leave. Now. Before I forget that my father asked me to keep you breathing.""
Vincent cast one last murderous glare toward Emma and me before turning on his heel and storming out of the dining room, his cane clicking sharply against the marble corridor until the sound faded into silence.
Emma was trembling against my legs. I lifted her into my arms, holding her tiny frame tight. ""Mr. Belucci, we need to leave. That man... he looked at Emma like he wanted to erase her. I can't put my baby in danger.""
""You are safer inside these walls than anywhere in the city of Chicago,"" Damian said, stepping closer. For the first time, his gaze dropped to my throat, where the collar of my worn maid’s uniform sat open. ""Where is the locket, Grace?""
My breath caught. ""What locket?""
""The one your mother left you. If Julianna was your mother, she wouldn't have left you with nothing. She was paranoid, meticulous, and terrified of my uncle. What did she give you?""
My heart hammered against my ribs. I had hidden the silver locket inside the inner lining of my boot for years, terrified that someone in the shelter or the tenements would steal it for scrap silver. Reluctantly, I set Emma down on the chair, pulled up my pant leg, and extracted the tarnished silver oval.
Damian took it from my palm. His thumb grazed the engraved wild rose on the front. A sharp intake of breath escaped his lips. ""Turn it over,"" he murmured, his voice thick with an emotion I couldn't decipher.
I turned it over. On the back, nearly worn away by friction, were three Roman numerals: VII - XIV - IX.
""July 14, 1909,"" Damian read quietly. ""The founding date of the Belucci family vineyard in Sicily. My father had three of these lockets custom-made by an artisan in Florence. One for himself, one for me, and one for his bride, Julianna. The locking mechanism isn't decorative, Grace. It's a key.""
Before I could wrap my mind around his words, Margaret entered the room, accompanied by Dr. Evans, an elderly gentleman carrying a leather medical kit. Margaret’s eyes were rimmed with red, as though she had been crying for hours.
""Mr. Damian,"" Margaret whispered, wringing her apron. ""If you are going to open the vault in the wine cellar, you need to know the truth before Vincent finds out what you're doing.""
""What truth, Margaret?"" Damian demanded, stepping toward the old housekeeper. ""What did my father hide from me before he died?""
""Your father didn't hide it to hurt you,"" Margaret sobbed, looking nervously toward the doorway. ""He hid it to keep Grace alive! Julianna didn't die in an accident fifteen years ago. Her car was run off the road by hitmen hired by Vincent! Vincent discovered that Julianna had an illegitimate daughter from a previous relationship before she met Leonardo. Vincent knew that Leonardo planned to legally adopt Grace and write her into the family trust!""
The room spun violently. I reached out, steadying myself against the heavy dining table. ""My mother... was hunted?""
""Julianna survived the crash,"" Margaret revealed, tears streaming freely down her wrinkled cheeks. ""She crawled out of the wreckage and hid in a storm drain while Vincent’s men searched the shoreline. She knew that if Vincent ever discovered where she had hidden you, he would slaughter you both to secure his claim over the fifty-million-dollar inheritance. So she made the ultimate sacrifice. She vanished completely, allowing the world to believe she was dead, and begged your father from afar never to seek you out until Vincent was powerless.""
""Where is she now?"" I cried out, the agonizing ache of a motherless child erupting from deep within my soul. ""Is she alive? Tell me she's alive!""
Margaret bowed her head, weeping openly. ""She passed away three years ago in a quiet convent in Vermont, Grace. Tuberculosis. She spent her final days praying for you every single hour. And before she died, she sent a letter to Leonardo. That letter is locked in the hidden safe beneath the wine cellar. A safe that requires two keys to open.""
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Damian reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out a silver chain from around his neck. Dangling from the end was an identical silver locket, engraved with the same wild rose.
He looked at me, his eyes blazing with an unyielding, protective fire. ""Doctor, take a swab from Emma and Grace immediately. Run an expedited DNA test against my father’s stored genetic profile in our private medical lab. I want scientific proof within four hours. And Grace..."" He reached out, gently wrapping his strong fingers around my trembling hand. ""You and your daughter will never run again. Tonight, we open that safe.""
