Chapter 1 - THE FUNERAL SHE NEVER MEANT TO ATTEND
The first thing Riona Mallister felt when Aldrich Ferrante stopped in front of her was not fear.
It was recognition.
Eight years disappeared in a single second.
The basilica seemed to shrink around them.
Voices blurred.
Black coats and mourning dresses became indistinct shapes.
Even the bells outside seemed to fade into the background.
Aldrich stared at her as if someone had reached into his chest and pulled something out that he had buried so deeply he had convinced himself it no longer existed.
“Riona.”
He said her name quietly.
Not angrily.
Not accusingly.
Almost as if he had forgotten how it sounded until that moment.
She tightened her fingers around Anel’s hand.
“Excuse me.”
She tried to step around him.
He moved with her.
She stopped.
So did he.
For eight years, she had imagined hundreds of possible reunions.
In some, Aldrich was furious.
In others, he was indifferent.
Sometimes she imagined herself strong enough to look him in the eye and tell him she had never stopped loving him.
Sometimes she imagined herself walking past without saying a word.
She had never imagined this.
Standing beneath the stained-glass windows of Saint Patrick’s Basilica.
Her seven-year-old son beside her.
Aldrich only three feet away.
Aldrich’s eyes dropped.
To Anel.
The boy was looking up at him with quiet curiosity.
His dark hair was slightly too long because Riona had cut it herself last week.
His black coat was inexpensive but carefully brushed.
One hand remained wrapped around Riona’s.
The other held a tiny wooden fox.
Aldrich's gaze moved over the child.
Then back to Riona.
Something changed in his face.
The stillness broke.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
His breathing stopped for a fraction of a second.
His eyes returned to Anel.
The resemblance was subtle if someone didn't know where to look.
The shape of the jaw.
The gray-green eyes.
The slight tilt of the head when he was studying something unfamiliar.
Aldrich looked at the child again.
“How old is he?”
Riona's heart slammed against her ribs.
She knew this moment would come someday.
She had spent years preparing for it.
She had rehearsed explanations.
She had created entire speeches in her head while sitting beside Anel’s bed at night.
None of them survived the reality of Aldrich standing in front of her.
“Seven.”
Aldrich went completely still.
The math happened behind his eyes.
She watched him calculate.
Seven.
Eight years since she disappeared.
Eight years since he believed she had betrayed him.
Eight years since the night he told her to leave.
Seven years old.
Aldrich looked at Anel again.
The color drained from his face.
“Who is he?”
Riona's throat tightened.
“My son.”
Aldrich barely breathed the next question.
“Who is his father?”
Anel's small hand tightened around hers.
Riona looked at Aldrich.
“Please move.”
His jaw tightened.
“Riona.”
“Not here.”
“Who is his father?”
She could feel people beginning to notice.
Ferrante men were watching.
Members of the family had stopped moving.
Someone whispered near the front.
Aldrich looked like a man standing on the edge of something he had never anticipated.
Riona wanted to tell him.
She wanted to scream it.
She wanted to say the name that had lived inside her for seven years.
Instead, she took a step backward.
Aldrich's expression hardened.
“You came here for my grandfather.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I needed something.”
“What?”
She hesitated.
“A ledger.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What ledger?”
“Your grandfather promised it to me.”
Aldrich stared.
“Before he died?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Cosmo promise you anything?”
Riona looked at the coffin.
“Because he knew the truth.”
Aldrich's face changed.
“What truth?”
She shook her head.
“Not here.”
Then Anel looked up at Aldrich.
For the first time, their eyes met directly.
Gray-green.
Identical.
Aldrich's breath caught.
The boy studied him for a moment.
Then he asked Riona in a small voice.
“Mama, is he important?”
Aldrich heard it.
Mama.
The word struck him harder than a gunshot.
Riona closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Anel nodded as if that answer were enough.
Aldrich looked at Riona.
“You have a son.”
“Yes.”
“My grandfather knew about him?”
“Yes.”
Aldrich stepped closer.
“Does he know who I am?”
Riona's heart broke.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you didn't know who I was.”
His face tightened.
“That isn't an answer.”
“It is the only one you deserve.”
Silence.
Aldrich's men shifted nearby.
One of them whispered something in his ear.
He ignored him.
His eyes remained on Riona.
“I believed you betrayed me.”
“You did.”
“You knew what I thought.”
“Yes.”
“You left without fighting.”
“I had already spent my last breath trying to make you listen.”
“I was told you sold information.”
“I didn't.”
“I saw the records.”
“They were forged.”
“You could have proved it.”
“To you?”
Her voice shook.
“I tried.”
Aldrich's face hardened.
“Why didn't you come back?”
Riona looked at Anel.
“Because I had him.”
Aldrich stared.
The meaning landed.
Slowly.
Painfully.
“You were pregnant.”
“No.”
“You didn't know?”
“I knew.”
His face changed.
“You knew he was mine?”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
Aldrich closed his eyes.
For one second, he looked like a man who had been physically struck.
“When?”
“The night you told me you believed I had sold you out.”
His jaw trembled.
“You were pregnant then?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't tell me.”
“You didn't let me.”
He looked at Anel.
Seven.
Seven years.
A child.
His child.
The child he had never known existed.
Aldrich's voice became rough.
“Why did Cosmo know?”
Riona's eyes filled with tears.
“Because he found me.”
“When?”
“Two months after Anel was born.”
Aldrich looked at the coffin.
His grandfather.
Cosmo had known.
And apparently had kept the secret.
“Why?”
“Because your grandfather understood what your father never did.”
“What?”
“That sometimes protecting the family means protecting the truth from the family.”
Aldrich looked at her.
Then at Anel.
Then back at her.
“What does the ledger contain?”
“The proof that I never betrayed you.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Where is it?”
“Your grandfather hid it.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Aldrich's expression shifted.
“What do you mean you don't know?”
“I was told to retrieve it at the funeral.”
“By whom?”
“Cosmo.”
“How?”
“A letter.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
He stared.
“My grandfather sent you a letter.”
“Yes.”
“After he knew he was dying.”
“Yes.”
Aldrich stepped closer.
“And he asked you to come back.”
Riona nodded.
“He said you were finally ready to know.”
“Ready for what?”
Riona looked into his eyes.
“For what happened eight years ago.”
Before Aldrich could respond, a man appeared beside them.
Roland Vain.
The same man who had handed Aldrich the folder eight years earlier.
The same man who had accused Riona of selling Ferrante secrets.
The same man who had watched Aldrich throw her out.
Roland smiled.
“Quite the reunion.”
Riona froze.
Aldrich slowly turned.
“Roland.”
The older man adjusted his coat.
“I didn't expect to see her.”
Aldrich's eyes narrowed.
“Did you know she was coming?”
“No.”
Riona looked between them.
Roland's gaze slid to Anel.
For the first time, genuine fear appeared on his face.
That was enough.
Riona knew.
Roland knew.
He understood exactly what Aldrich was beginning to understand.
Aldrich stepped in front of Riona.
“Leave.”
Roland blinked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Leave.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked.”
Roland's smile vanished.
“Aldrich, your grandfather's funeral is not the place for—”
“I said leave.”
Roland obeyed.
But before he walked away, he leaned closer to Aldrich.
“You should be careful what you uncover.”
Then he left.
Riona watched him disappear into the crowd.
Aldrich turned.
“What did he mean?”
She looked toward the exit.
“We need to go.”
“Together?”
“No.”
Aldrich caught her wrist.
She looked at his hand.
He released her immediately.
“I need answers.”
“So do I.”
He stared at her.
“Then we're getting them together.”
Riona shook her head.
“You're not ready.”
“You don't get to decide that anymore.”
She looked at him.
“You’re right.”
Then she placed something in his hand.
A small brass key.
His grandfather's initials were engraved on it.
“Midnight,” she whispered.
“Where?”
“The old Ferrante boathouse.”
“What about you?”
“I'll be there.”
“And Anel?”
Her eyes hardened.
“He stays away from you until I know I can trust you.”
Aldrich's expression broke.
“You think I would hurt him?”
“I think eight years ago you hurt me without hearing me.”
“I was wrong.”
“You don't get to say that yet.”
Then she turned.
Anel followed.
Aldrich stood beneath the stained glass watching them leave.
The little boy looked back once.
For one second, father and son stared at each other without knowing the truth of the bond between them.
But Aldrich knew.
He knew now.
Somewhere deep inside him, beneath the shock and disbelief, one fact had already become impossible to deny.
May you like
The boy was his.
And someone had spent seven years making sure he never knew.
