Chapter 2 - The Mafia Boss Told Me My Father Was Dead—Then I Found His Photograph Inside a Locked Marlowe Safe
My mother's rehabilitation center smelled like lemon disinfectant and fear.
Vincent drove.
I sat beside him.
Neither of us spoke.
At 1:36 a.m., we entered through a side entrance guarded by two Marlowe men.
I hated that seeing them made me feel safer.
Mom was asleep.
A nurse assured me no one had touched her.
I kissed her forehead.
Then Vincent showed me the photograph.
My father stood outside a diner.
Older.
Thinner.
Gray hair.
But unmistakably Daniel Bennett.
On the back were six words.
ASK VINCENT WHAT HAPPENED IN 2011.
I looked at him.
“What happened in 2011?”
Vincent said nothing.
“Don't.”
“Claire.”
“No more deciding which truth I can handle.”
He looked tired.
“Your father found evidence that my wife was moving money.”
I froze.
“Evan's mother?”
“Isabelle.”
Everyone in Chicago knew the story.
Isabelle Marlowe died in a boating accident fifteen years earlier.
Vincent had raised Evan alone.
“You said she died before my father disappeared.”
“She did.”
“Then how was she moving money?”
“Before she died.”
Vincent sat.
For the first time, the most feared man I knew looked old.
“Isabelle came from the DeLuca family.”
I knew the name.
Rivals.
Enemies.
Men who had spent twenty years trying to destroy the Marlowes.
“Our marriage ended a war,” Vincent said.
“You loved her?”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised me.
He noticed.
“I wasn't always incapable of normal emotion.”
“I never said you were.”
“You've thought it.”
Possibly.
He continued.
“Daniel discovered Isabelle had transferred seventeen million dollars into offshore accounts connected to her brother, Anthony DeLuca.”
“What happened?”
“I confronted her.”
“And?”
“She admitted it.”
Vincent looked toward the window.
“She said Anthony was threatening Evan.”
My chest tightened.
Evan had been fifteen.
“She was paying him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you believe her?”
“I wanted to.”
Three weeks later, Isabelle died.
Boat explosion.
No survivors.
Then my father disappeared.
“You thought Dad killed her?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I thought he knew who did.”
“And you let him disappear?”
Vincent looked at me.
“I helped him.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“What?”
“Your father came to me.”
“He said someone inside the organization wanted him dead.”
“He had evidence.”
“I gave him money.”
“A new identity.”
“A way out.”
My hands shook.
“You helped my father abandon us.”
Vincent flinched.
“I believed you were going with him.”
“What?”
“He told me he would collect you and your mother.”
“He never came.”
“I didn't know.”
“How could you not know?”
“Because two days later, the man I sent with him was found dead.”
Vincent's voice hardened.
“I assumed Daniel had been killed too.”
“And us?”
“I checked.”
“When?”
“Years later.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“Too late.”
I stood.
“You knew my father had planned to leave with us.”
“Yes.”
“You knew someone might have killed him.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“No.”
I laughed bitterly.
“And you wonder why I look for exits.”
Vincent looked devastated.
Good.
The next morning, Evan arrived.
He had a bruise on his knuckles.
Vincent's jaw had a matching bruise.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Evan looked at me.
“Can we talk?”
Vincent stood.
“I'll leave.”
Evan stared.
“That's new.”
Vincent ignored him.
After he left, Evan sat.
“I owe you an apology.”
“I owe you one too.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You tried to talk.”
“I didn't listen.”
“I wanted the proposal more than I wanted the answer.”
That hurt because it was true.
“I did love you,” I said.
“I know.”
“You deserved honesty sooner.”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
“But I also deserved to ask you privately.”
“Yes.”
A faint smile.
“We were terrible at this.”
“We were.”
Then his expression changed.
“My father loves you.”
My heart tightened.
“He hasn't said that.”
“He doesn't have to.”
Evan looked toward the door.
“I've spent thirty years learning his face.”
I said nothing.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“That I want him?”
Evan thought.
“Yes.”
Honest.
“But not the way it did last night.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Last night I thought he'd stolen you.”
“And now?”
“I realized you aren't something either of us can steal.”
I almost cried.
Evan reached into his pocket.
His mother's engagement ring.
He placed it on the table.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“This ring.”
I stared.
“Mom's ring?”
“Yes.”
“Dad gave it to me six months ago.”
“Why?”
“He didn't.”
I frowned.
“I found it.”
“Where?”
“In his private safe.”
My pulse changed.
“What else was inside?”
Evan looked at me.
“A file with your name.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Claire Bennett.”
“Three years before you started working for him.”
My blood went cold.
“That isn't possible.”
“I saw it.”
“Why didn't you ask him?”
“I did.”
“What did he say?”
“That it was none of my business.”
I stood.
“Where is the safe?”
“Claire.”
“Where?”
He told me.
Vincent's Lake Forest residence.
Private office.
Hidden behind a painting.
Evan still knew the code.
That evening, I went.
Not alone.
Evan came.
Vincent was meeting attorneys downtown.
The safe opened.
Inside were files.
Cash.
Weapons.
Old photographs.
Then:
BENNETT, DANIEL
And beneath it:
BENNETT, CLAIRE
My hands shook.
I opened mine.
Photographs.
Me at eighteen.
College graduation.
My first hospital administration job.
My mother's stroke.
My apartment.
My first interview with Marlowe Holdings.
Vincent had been watching me for years.
I felt violated.
Then I found a handwritten note.
Daniel's daughter. Keep her outside the organization. If anything happens to me, Nora handles protection. She must never know why.
Signed:
V.M.
I turned.
Evan looked pale.
“He protected you.”
“He watched me.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
I opened Daniel's file.
Inside was a letter.
Addressed to Vincent.
Fourteen years old.
Vincent, if you are reading this, Isabelle wasn't betraying you. She was building evidence against Anthony. The money was bait. Someone inside your house told Anthony she was cooperating. That person killed her.
My heart pounded.
The next line:
I know who it is.
The page ended.
Second page missing.
“Where is it?”
Evan whispered.
We searched.
Nothing.
Then the office door closed behind us.
Vincent stood there.
His expression was terrifying.
“What are you doing?”
I held up the file.
“Learning how long you've been lying to me.”
He looked at Evan.
“You opened my safe?”
“Yes.”
“Leave.”
“No.”
“Evan.”
“She deserves answers.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
Then I held up Daniel's letter.
“Where is page two?”
Vincent went still.
“You've seen this?”
“Yes.”
“Where is the second page?”
“I never had it.”
“Dad knew who killed Isabelle.”
“Yes.”
Evan stepped forward.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Then a voice came from the doorway.
Nora.
“I do.”
We turned.
Vincent's sister stood perfectly still.
Her face had lost all color.
Evan stared.
“Aunt Nora?”
She looked at Vincent.
“I've been trying to protect you for fifteen years.”
Vincent's expression changed.
“From what?”
Nora began crying.
“From your son.”
Silence.
Evan laughed.
“What?”
Nora looked at him.
“Not you.”
My stomach dropped.
Vincent became completely still.
Nora continued.
“Your other son.”
Vincent stared at his sister.
“I don't have another son.”
Nora closed her eyes.
“Yes, Vincent.”
May you like
“You do.”
---
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