Chapter 13
Dominic died six weeks later.
Bianca attended the funeral.
Vittorio did not.
He sent flowers.
Not because he forgave Dominic.
Because death did not require pretending a person had been simple.
Dominic had lied to his children.
Manipulated Marcus.
Hidden history.
Entered Vittorio’s home secretly.
But he had also returned the evidence that exposed his own role in the original feud.
People could be guilty and truthful at the end.
Both could exist.
Bianca wrote Vittorio a letter after the funeral.
He read it once.
She did not ask him to take her back.
That surprised him.
She admitted she had resented Lucy.
Not because of anything Lucy did.
Because Lucy represented a part of Vittorio’s life Bianca could never control.
A dead mother.
An old family.
A love that existed before Bianca arrived.
She had mistaken closeness for competition.
Then she let resentment become cruelty.
One sentence stayed with Vittorio.
I kept telling myself she was spoiled because admitting I was jealous of a three-year-old would have made me hate myself.
Vittorio folded the letter.
He did not reply.
Lucy did not need Bianca’s self-awareness.
She needed distance.
Marcus remained in legal trouble related to child endangerment, unlawful confinement, financial fraud, and security violations tied to the hidden archive search.
The business case became complicated.
Not cinematic.
Audits.
Depositions.
Records.
Arguments over authorization.
Vittorio hated how slowly accountability moved.
Rachel reminded him that slow did not mean meaningless.
“You spent your whole life wanting problems solved in one room.”
“Yes.”
“This isn’t that world.”
“It never was.”
Rachel smiled slightly.
“Now you’re learning.”
Vittorio also faced consequences.
He had punched Marcus.
He had slapped Bianca.
He did not pretend otherwise.
His attorney negotiated the case based on the circumstances, but Vittorio accepted responsibility for his actions rather than demanding employees reshape their testimony to protect him.
Theresa approved.
Barely.
“You don’t get a medal.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because you keep reminding me.”
“That’s what sisters are for.”
For the first time in months, Vittorio laughed.
Upstairs, Lucy’s laughter followed.
It sounded different now.
May you like
Less cautious.
That mattered more.
