Chapter 5 - MY MOTHER KNEW THE TRUTH BEFORE I DID
Emma’s wedding went forward.
That sounds impossible considering everything happening around us.
But Mom insisted.
“If I die before seeing one of my daughters walk down that aisle because some rich criminal has family problems, I will haunt all of you.”
Dominic blinked.
Dad nodded.
“She means it.”
So Saturday morning arrived.
Snow began falling around dawn.
The farmhouse filled with flowers, cousins, curling irons, crying bridesmaids and enough food to survive a siege.
Dominic’s security stayed invisible.
Mostly.
One man posed as a photographer’s assistant.
Another repaired a fence for three hours.
Dad liked him enough to offer employment.
Dominic himself wore a dark suit.
No tie pin.
No obvious watch.
Still looked as though he had accidentally wandered into the countryside from a magazine advertisement for expensive danger.
Mom saw him and smiled.
“You clean up.”
“I’m told.”
“You nervous?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
He looked at me across the kitchen.
Mom followed his eyes.
Her smile changed.
Later, while Emma was getting dressed, Mom asked Dominic to help her outside.
I watched from the window.
They sat beneath a covered porch heater.
Alone.
I told myself not to listen.
Then Mom waved me away from the glass.
Apparently dying had improved her eyesight.
I learned what they discussed later.
Mom asked him one question.
“If my daughter tells you no, what happens?”
Dominic answered:
“Nothing.”
Mom stared.
“No punishment?”
“No.”
“No lost job?”
“No.”
“No disappearing apartment lease?”
“No.”
“You don’t send men to scare someone?”
His expression hardened.
“Never her.”
Mom shook her head.
“Wrong answer.”
Dominic frowned.
She said:
“Never anyone.”
That stayed with him.
At noon, Emma married David beneath an arch of winter branches in the old barn.
Dad cried before Emma reached him.
He denied it afterward.
Lily scattered flower petals in one giant pile.
Then forgot her job and waved at Dominic.
He waved back.
During the vows, I looked toward Mom.
She was watching me.
Not Emma.
Me.
Then she looked at Dominic.
I understood.
She knew.
Maybe before I did.
At the reception, Ryan appeared again.
This time with a lawyer.
Dad nearly threw both men out.
Dominic stopped him.
“Let him speak.”
Ryan looked surprised.
So was I.
The lawyer handed me papers.
Temporary petition to establish paternity and visitation.
My hands shook.
“You filed this yesterday?”
Ryan looked ashamed.
“The attorney handled it.”
“Paid by whom?”
Silence.
Dominic said:
“Vittorio Moretti.”
The lawyer’s face changed.
Ryan looked at him.
“I didn’t know the name.”
“But you accepted the money.”
“Yes.”
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“Why?”
Ryan’s eyes went toward Lily dancing with Emma.
“I saw pictures.”
“What pictures?”
“Someone sent them.”
Of Lily.
School.
My apartment.
Dominic’s building.
He looked genuinely disturbed.
“They said if I didn’t file, someone worse might come after her.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Ryan did something unexpected.
He handed Dominic his phone.
“Keep it.”
Dominic stared.
“Everything they sent me is there.”
“You’re withdrawing the petition?”
Ryan looked at Lily again.
“Yes.”
I stopped.
“Why?”
His face broke.
“Because I walked in yesterday thinking maybe I could pretend the last three years didn’t happen.”
He swallowed.
“Then she looked at me like I was a stranger.”
“You are.”
“I know.”
There was no argument.
“I don’t deserve to scare her because some man paid for paperwork.”
Something inside me loosened.
Not forgiveness.
But rage had less work to do.
Ryan left.
Dominic handed the phone to Marco’s man.
Then he found me behind the barn fifteen minutes later.
“You’re crying.”
“I noticed.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
I laughed through tears.
“You always ask that now.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because apparently I’ve been doing relationships incorrectly for thirty-eight years.”
I looked at him.
“You haven’t been in a relationship with me.”
His expression softened.
“Not yet.”
My heart did something stupid.
Then a shout came from inside.
“Mom!”
I ran.
Margaret Carter had collapsed beside the dance floor.
The music stopped.
Dad was already on his knees.
Mom’s eyes were open, but her breathing was shallow.
“Call an ambulance!”
Dominic moved before anyone else.
Space cleared.
His security man had emergency training.
Oxygen appeared from the medical kit Dominic had quietly ordered brought to the farm.
I looked at him.
“You brought oxygen?”
He met my eyes.
“Your mother is sick.”
Of course.
Of course he had prepared.
The ambulance arrived.
Mom refused the hospital.
Then collapsed again.
That ended the argument.
We followed.
At the emergency department, the doctor said pneumonia.
Cancer had weakened her immune system.
They admitted her.
Emma sat in her wedding dress beside the bed.
Dad held Mom’s hand.
Lily slept across two chairs.
Dominic remained in the hallway.
I found him there at three in the morning.
“You can come in.”
“That room belongs to your family.”
I looked at him.
“You’re standing outside it.”
“Yes.”
“Dominic.”
He looked tired.
Human.
“You belong closer than the hallway.”
Something changed in his face.
He followed me in.
Mom woke near dawn.
She saw Dominic.
Then me.
Her mouth moved.
“Boyfriend?”
I leaned closer.
“What?”
She smiled weakly.
“Still fake?”
I looked at Dominic.
He looked at me.
I answered honestly.
“I don’t know.”
Mom seemed satisfied.
Then Dominic’s phone rang.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
Marco.
Dominic stepped away and answered.
His expression hardened.
“What happened?”
A pause.
Then:
“Keep him there.”
He ended the call.
I knew immediately.
“Vittorio?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
Dominic looked at Mom.
Then at Lily.
“My uncle just tried to move three hundred million dollars out of a Moretti holding company without authorization.”
I stared.
“He’s taking your company?”
“He’s trying.”
“Because you stayed?”
“Yes.”
I expected him to leave.
Instead, he pulled a chair beside Mom’s bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Staying.”
“Dominic, this is hundreds of millions of dollars.”
He looked at me.
“You told me fear doesn’t get to choose.”
My eyes filled.
He opened his laptop.
“I can ruin my uncle from Pennsylvania.”
Mom, barely awake, whispered:
“I like him.”
Dad looked deeply offended.
And for the next six hours, while my mother slept and snow covered the hospital parking lot, Dominic Moretti fought for control of his empire from a plastic chair beside her bed.
Not because the company mattered more.
May you like
Because for the first time, it didn’t.
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