Chapter 4 - Her Family Was Part Of The Secret
Clare spent the next hour refusing to believe him.
Not because Nicholas sounded uncertain.
Because he sounded certain.
Too certain.
Her mother had died when Clare was fourteen.
Her father had died six years later.
She had spent most of her adult life accepting that the Bennett family history was simple.
Quiet.
Ordinary.
Now a mafia boss was telling her that everything she knew had been constructed around a lie.
"Prove it."
Nicholas didn't hesitate.
He gave Matteo a nod.
Matteo placed a file on the table.
Inside were documents.
Old bank transfers.
Photographs.
Handwritten notes.
And a birth record.
The name on the original record was Clare Anna Duca.
She stared.
"No."
The word came out broken.
Nicholas watched her carefully.
"Your mother changed the record."
"You're lying."
"Your mother did it to protect you."
"From what?"
"My father."
Clare's breathing became shallow.
"Why would your father care about me?"
"Because you were his granddaughter."
She nearly laughed.
Instead she cried.
Quietly at first.
Then uncontrollably.
Nicholas did not touch her.
He simply stood nearby.
For once, he seemed to understand that not every wound could be fixed by force.
Hours later, Clare sat alone beside Kara's bed.
The little girl had fallen asleep holding her stuffed rabbit.
Nicholas appeared in the doorway.
"She likes you."
Clare looked at him.
"Don't."
He stopped.
"I'm angry."
"I know."
"I'm angry at my mother."
"I know."
"I'm angry at you."
"I know."
She wiped her eyes.
"Why did you tell me?"
"Because Gray knows."
She looked up.
"What?"
"He's searching for you."
"Why?"
"Because the truth about your birth is connected to the money your grandfather stole from the organization."
"I don't want his money."
"It's not about money."
"Then what?"
Nicholas leaned against the doorframe.
"Control."
He explained everything.
His father, Marco Duca, had built an empire through legitimate businesses and illegal ones.
But before his death, Marco had hidden evidence of financial crimes, political corruption, and trafficking networks.
Then he had disappeared.
Nicholas had spent years trying to recover the files.
So had Adrian Gray.
So had Evelyn.
Clare's mother had found the final piece.
And hidden it.
Inside Clare's childhood home.
"That's why my mother left?"
"Yes."
"Why did she die?"
Nicholas's eyes hardened.
"We don't know."
"Someone killed her."
He didn't answer.
Clare knew.
The truth had finally become impossible to avoid.
Her mother's death had not been an accident.
That night, they returned to the Bellweather.
Not because it was safe.
Because they needed access to the hotel archives.
Clare used her employee badge.
They entered through the laundry corridor.
Nicholas followed.
"You're very calm."
"I'm terrified."
"You don't look terrified."
"I'm a hotel maid. We learn not to scream when rich people leave disgusting things in bathtubs."
He laughed.
A real laugh.
Small.
Unexpected.
Clare looked at him.
He seemed different for one second.
Less like a mafia boss.
More like a man who had forgotten how to be human.
They reached the archive room.
Clare unlocked the cabinet.
Inside were old guest records.
She searched the year her mother had worked at the hotel.
There.
A reservation under an alias.
Anna Bennett.
Suite 3904.
Nicholas read the notation.
"Private meeting. M.D."
"Marco Duca," Clare whispered.
She opened another file.
A photograph fell out.
Her mother.
Nicholas.
Marco.
And another woman.
Evelyn.
Clare stared.
"Why was Evelyn there?"
Nicholas took the photograph.
"Because she was my father's accountant."
Clare looked at him.
"And she was working with my mother."
Before he could answer, the lights went out.
The archive door slammed shut.
Clare heard footsteps.
Then a voice.
"You should have stayed away from the dead."
Nicholas drew his gun.
"Gray."
The voice laughed.
A metallic sound echoed through the dark.
"Hello, Nicholas."
Clare grabbed the flashlight.
"They're surrounding us."
Nicholas positioned himself between her and the door.
"Don't move."
"That's becoming your favorite phrase."
"Clare."
She looked at him.
"Don't."
A gunshot shattered the lock.
Nicholas fired back.
The door burst open.
Two men rushed inside.
Nicholas moved faster than Clare thought possible.
He slammed the first into a shelf.
The second raised his weapon.
Clare grabbed a fire extinguisher and swung.
It connected with his wrist.
The gun fell.
Nicholas stared at her.
She stared back.
"I panicked."
"You hit a man with a fire extinguisher."
"Yes."
"Good."
They ran.
Up two flights.
Across the ballroom.
Into the kitchen.
Out through the delivery entrance.
A black SUV waited.
Matteo opened the door.
"Get in."
Clare climbed inside.
Nicholas followed.
The SUV sped away.
After several minutes, he looked at her.
"You saved my life."
"You saved mine first."
"That's not how this works."
"What?"
"You don't owe me your life because I protected you."
She looked out the window.
"Good."
"Good?"
"I don't want to owe a mafia boss anything."
He looked at her.
"I don't want you to."
They drove through the rain.
Neither spoke.
Then Clare said quietly, "Nicholas?"
"Yes."
"If my mother knew your father..."
He waited.
"What did she hide?"
He answered with one sentence.
"A ledger."
May you like
"And what's in it?"
"Enough to destroy everyone."
