Chapter 11 - The Child Who Never Died
Julian stared at Marco as if the warehouse had disappeared around him.
“Mother was pregnant?”
Marco pressed one hand against his bleeding thigh.
“Yes.”
Julian shook his head.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Marco’s face twisted.
“It was inconvenient.”
Giovanni’s expression hardened.
“Stop talking.”
Marco laughed.
“You still think you can order everyone around.”
Julian looked at his father.
“Was she pregnant?”
Giovanni said nothing.
That silence was worse than an answer.
Julian stepped closer.
“Was my mother pregnant when she died?”
Giovanni finally looked at him.
“Yes.”
Elena covered her mouth.
Julian’s chest tightened.
“How far along?”
Marco answered.
“Almost six months.”
Julian turned toward him.
“You knew?”
“I was twenty-four.”
Marco’s voice became bitter.
“I knew everything Father wanted me to know.”
Julian felt sick.
He had been twenty-six when their mother died.
He remembered the hospital room.
The closed curtains.
The smell of antiseptic.
The priest.
His father standing near the window.
Marco refusing to look at him.
And their mother lying beneath white sheets.
He had kissed her forehead.
He had believed cancer had taken her.
Now every memory felt poisoned.
“Why didn’t I know?”
Giovanni answered.
“Because she didn’t want you to.”
Julian looked at him.
“Don’t lie for her now.”
Giovanni’s jaw tightened.
“She planned to leave.”
“With the baby?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Giovanni stared at the concrete floor.
For the first time, he looked old.
Not weak.
Old.
“She discovered certain accounts.”
“The network?”
“Yes.”
“She threatened to expose you?”
“She threatened to destroy the entire family.”
Julian laughed without humor.
“By exposing crimes?”
“She wanted to hand everything to prosecutors.”
“That sounds like saving the family.”
“To idealists.”
Giovanni looked at him.
“Not to men who understand consequences.”
Julian took another step.
“What did you do?”
Giovanni remained silent.
Marco smiled grimly.
“Tell him.”
Giovanni’s eyes flashed.
“Be quiet.”
“No.”
Marco pushed himself against the container.
“I spent twelve years carrying your secret.”
Julian turned toward him.
“What secret?”
Marco looked at Julian.
“Mother didn’t die that night.”
Everything stopped.
Julian’s face emptied.
“What?”
Marco’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“She survived.”
Elena stared at him.
Julian did not move.
“You said she died.”
“She nearly did.”
“What happened?”
Marco’s eyes shifted toward Giovanni.
“Father arranged the hospital.”
Julian turned.
Giovanni said nothing.
Marco continued.
“The doctor was paid.”
“The records were changed.”
“She was declared dead.”
Julian’s breathing became shallow.
“No.”
“Julian.”
“No.”
“She woke up two days later.”
Julian grabbed Marco by the coat.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Marco grimaced from the pain.
“I saw her.”
Julian froze.
“What?”
“I saw her alive.”
“Where?”
“A private clinic outside Lugano.”
Julian released him slowly.
Marco continued.
“She begged me to help her.”
“Did you?”
Marco looked away.
That was the answer.
Julian’s face twisted with disgust.
“You left her there.”
“I was afraid.”
“You left our mother imprisoned?”
“I was afraid of him.”
Marco pointed at Giovanni.
Giovanni remained still.
Julian’s voice broke.
“She was alive.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
Marco swallowed.
“Three months.”
Julian closed his eyes.
Three months.
Three months during which he had mourned her.
Three months during which he had stood beside an empty grave.
Three months during which she had been somewhere waiting for help.
“And the baby?”
Marco looked at Henry Vale.
Henry’s face went pale.
Julian noticed.
“What?”
Marco answered.
“The baby lived.”
Elena’s hand found Julian’s.
He did not feel it.
“Where is the child?”
Marco laughed softly.
“You’ve already met her.”
Julian stared.
Marco lifted his eyes toward the dead screen.
“Camila.”
Silence.
Elena stopped breathing.
Julian took one step backward.
“No.”
Marco nodded.
“Camila is your sister.”
Julian’s mind rejected the words.
Camila.
The woman who had entered his life.
The woman who had kissed him.
The woman who had shared his bed.
The woman his father had deliberately placed beside him.
Julian’s stomach turned.
Giovanni finally spoke.
“I didn’t know.”
Julian spun toward him.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I did not know who she was when Bellweather began.”
Marco laughed.
“But you knew before Monaco.”
Giovanni looked at him.
Marco smiled.
“That’s why you changed the seating chart yourself.”
Julian’s face turned white.
“You knew.”
Giovanni’s silence confirmed it.
Elena whispered.
“Oh my God.”
Julian moved toward his father.
“You knew she was my sister.”
Giovanni raised his hands.
“I knew only weeks before the auction.”
“And you still put her beside me?”
“She needed access.”
“To what?”
“You.”
Julian punched him.
The sound echoed across the warehouse.
Giovanni hit the concrete.
One of the armed guards raised his gun.
Henry shouted.
“Don’t!”
Julian stood over his father.
“You made me sleep with my own sister.”
Giovanni wiped blood from his mouth.
“No.”
Julian froze.
Giovanni looked up.
“Camila knew.”
Julian’s face changed.
“She knew what?”
“Who she was.”
Elena whispered.
“Then why would she…”
Giovanni smiled bitterly.
“Because revenge makes people do ugly things.”
Julian felt physically ill.
Then the warehouse speakers crackled again.
Camila’s voice.
“He’s lying about one thing.”
Julian slowly turned toward the dark screen.
The image returned.
Camila stood in another room.
Her eyes were wet.
She no longer looked powerful.
She looked wounded.
“I never slept with you.”
Julian stared.
“What?”
She continued.
“You were drunk the first night.”
“I left before morning.”
“The other times…”
She swallowed.
“I made sure you believed what you needed to believe.”
Julian’s face went rigid.
Camila looked directly into the camera.
“I wanted you confused.”
“I wanted Giovanni afraid.”
“I wanted access to your systems.”
“But I never crossed that line.”
Julian said nothing.
“I hated you.”
Her voice cracked.
“But not for being my brother.”
May you like
“For being the son he chose to keep.”
The screen went dark again.
