Chapter 3 - The Death Certificate Was A Lie
By sunrise, John Barone had vanished.
His office was empty.
His home was empty.
His bank accounts had been drained.
His car was abandoned at the airport.
Simon stood in the middle of Barone's office while Vincent looked through drawers.
"He knew," Vincent said.
Simon stared at a wall of legal certificates.
"He always knew."
"You want him dead."
"I want him alive."
Vincent looked surprised.
Simon turned.
"Alive long enough to tell me who else was involved."
The search expanded.
The Castellanos had men across the city.
But Barone had prepared.
He had been moving money for years.
By noon, Simon discovered something worse.
His brother had a trust.
A trust worth twenty-three million dollars.
Created at birth.
Locked until Eli turned eighteen.
The trust had been transferred after the crash.
Into an account controlled by John Barone.
Simon felt sick.
"He didn't just disappear my brother."
Vincent read the document.
"He stole his inheritance."
Simon nodded.
"And probably used the family company to cover it."
The implications were enormous.
Every contract.
Every property.
Every account.
The missing money could explain why the family had spent years fighting rival organizations.
Maybe the financial pressure had been manufactured.
Maybe enemies hadn't been as strong as they seemed.
Maybe someone had been stealing from Simon while convincing him he was losing to everyone else.
The betrayal was internal.
And it had started with a child.
Meanwhile, Marisol sat at the kitchen table in Simon's estate.
She had been given a guest room.
She didn't sleep there.
She didn't trust luxury enough to rest inside it.
Eli sat across from her.
"You were right."
Marisol looked up.
"About what?"
"Simon."
She swallowed.
"What about him?"
"He was my brother."
She nodded.
"I know."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know."
"You knew the picture."
"I didn't know what it meant."
"You knew I wasn't really your son."
Marisol's eyes filled.
"I knew I hadn't given birth to you."
Eli looked down.
"I'm sorry."
She immediately reached across the table.
"Don't ever say that."
"But—"
"You were never a burden."
He stared at her.
"You were a little boy who needed someone."
"And you took me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Marisol smiled through tears.
"Because you grabbed my sleeve."
Eli laughed softly.
"I was annoying."
"You still are."
Maddie ran into the room.
"Eli!"
"What?"
"We have a mansion now."
"It's not ours."
"It has a staircase."
"So?"
"It's giant."
She leaned closer.
"And Simon has a pool."
Eli stared.
"Really?"
Maddie nodded.
"He's secretly Santa."
Marisol laughed.
Simon entered the kitchen.
"You've been discussing my pool?"
Maddie pointed at him.
"You're Santa."
Simon looked at Marisol.
"Apparently."
Maddie ran off.
Eli remained.
Simon sat across from him.
For a while they said nothing.
Then Simon placed something on the table.
A small wooden box.
Eli looked at it.
"What's that?"
"Yours."
Inside was the silver bracelet.
The original.
Simon had carried it for seven years.
Or thought he had.
This one was from his memory.
A duplicate made by the family jeweler.
Eli touched it.
"Mine is downstairs."
Simon looked up.
"What?"
"My bracelet."
"Where?"
"Mom has it."
Marisol froze.
She had forgotten.
She rushed to the bedroom.
Minutes later she returned with a small envelope.
Inside was a silver bracelet blackened with age.
Simon held it.
The engraving had been almost erased.
E.C.
He turned it over.
On the inside was another line.
Roo.
His breath stopped.
He looked at Eli.
"You never lost it."
Eli shook his head.
"I didn't want to."
Simon handed it back.
"You keep it."
Eli closed his fingers around it.
Simon looked at him.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Okay."
"What do you remember from the fire?"
Eli thought.
"Mom."
"My mother?"
"No."
"Your mother?"
"I don't know who."
He closed his eyes.
"She was screaming."
Simon went still.
"What was she saying?"
"Run."
"Anything else?"
Eli's brow furrowed.
"She gave me to somebody."
"Who?"
"A man."
"Do you remember his face?"
"No."
"His voice?"
Eli shook his head.
Then his eyes opened.
"But he smelled like oranges."
Simon looked at Vincent.
Oranges.
Cordelia had always kept orange peel in the kitchen.
But that couldn't mean anything.
Could it?
Suddenly Eli said:
"And he said, 'Your brother doesn't know.'"
Simon felt ice move through him.
Someone had been talking to Eli that night.
Someone who knew Simon.
Someone who knew the Castellano family.
Someone who planned to make Simon believe the child had died.
At the same time, a phone rang.
Vincent answered.
He listened.
Then looked at Simon.
"We found Barone."
"Where?"
"Biloxi."
Simon stood.
"Let's go."
Marisol grabbed his sleeve.
"Simon."
He turned.
"Bring him back."
She looked at Eli.
"Alive."
Simon nodded.
"I promise."
In Biloxi, they found Barone in a motel room.
He didn't resist.
He sat on the edge of the bed with his hands visible.
"You're late," he said.
Simon entered alone.
"Where is the rest?"
Barone smiled.
"You know."
"Who took my brother?"
Barone said nothing.
Simon placed the photograph on the table.
"You."
"No."
"Then who?"
"You won't believe me."
"Try."
Barone looked tired.
"The order came from someone you never suspected."
Simon waited.
"Your father."
The room went silent.
Simon stared.
"My father died before the crash."
"Yes."
"So how?"
Barone leaned forward.
"Your father ordered the child moved before the crash ever happened."
Simon felt his world shift.
"What are you talking about?"
"Eli was not supposed to be at the house that morning."
"What?"
"Someone was coming for him."
"Who?"
"Your father's enemy."
"Then why hide him?"
Barone laughed bitterly.
"Because your father knew he couldn't protect both sons."
Simon stared.
"You're lying."
"Ask Cordelia."
Simon froze.
Barone continued.
"Your father believed there was a traitor inside the family."
"Who?"
Barone smiled.
"That's the part I never figured out."
Simon grabbed him by the collar.
"Who arranged the crash?"
Barone looked directly into his eyes.
"I did."
The confession landed like a gunshot.
"Why?"
"Because I was told to make the world believe Eli died."
"By whom?"
Barone said the name.
Simon released him.
His face had gone completely blank.
"Who?"
May you like
Barone whispered:
"Your mother."
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