Chapter 8: The Truth Written in Blood
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
The document sat on the table between us.
A simple piece of paper.
A few printed words.
A few signatures.
And somehow, it carried more weight than every weapon in the house.
Because weapons could hurt a body.
But truth could destroy a life.
I looked at Marcus.
Then at Katherine.
Then down at the document again.
"No.""
The word left my mouth quietly.
Not because I was certain.
Because I needed it to be impossible.
Marcus didn't move.
"Roman—"
"No.""
I picked up the paper.
My hands were steady.
That scared me.
Because inside, everything was breaking.
I read the name.
The date.
The information.
Then I looked at the line.
*Father: Unknown.*
My eyes narrowed.
"What is this?""
Marcus swallowed.
"The original birth record.""
Katherine immediately shook her head.
"He's lying.""
I turned toward her.
"Are you?""
She stopped.
That pause was everything.
I looked back at Marcus.
"Explain.""
He stepped closer.
"I found it six months ago.""
"Where?""
"In the old family archives.""
I laughed once.
A bitter sound.
"Of course.""
The family archives.
Another place filled with secrets.
Another room where everyone knew the truth except me.
Marcus continued.
"Your father kept records of everything.""
"My father kept records of my daughter?""
"Not just her.""
He looked at Katherine.
"Of everyone.""
Katherine's face changed.
She wasn't angry anymore.
She was terrified.
I noticed.
"Why would my father have Clara's birth records?""
Nobody answered.
Then Salvatore spoke.
"Because Angelo knew something was wrong.""
I looked at him.
"And you knew?""
His eyes lowered.
That was answer enough.
I felt something inside me crack.
"How long?""
Salvatore remained silent.
"How long did you know there was a possibility Clara wasn't mine?""
His voice was quiet.
"Since she was born.""
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
Twelve years.
No.
Three years.
Three years of my daughter's life.
Three years where people around me carried a secret.
"You all knew.""
Nobody defended themselves.
That hurt more.
I looked at Clara.
She was sitting beside me, holding her stuffed rabbit.
Completely unaware.
She looked at me with tired eyes.
"Daddy?""
I forced myself to kneel beside her.
"I'm here.""
"Are you mad?""
The question broke something in me.
Not because of the document.
Not because of Katherine.
Because my daughter thought my silence meant anger toward her.
I touched her cheek.
"Never.""
She smiled slightly.
Then rested her head against my shoulder.
Whatever paper said.
Whatever blood said.
Whatever secrets existed.
She was still the little girl who called me Daddy.
No document could erase three years of love.
But it could explain why everyone had been hiding.
I stood.
"Start talking.""
Katherine wiped her face.
"I was pregnant before I met you.""
The words hit me.
Not because of the pregnancy.
Because of the timing.
I looked at her.
"What?""
She closed her eyes.
"I didn't know who the father was.""
Marcus looked away.
Salvatore remained silent.
I felt sick.
"You let me believe she was mine.""
"I wanted her to be yours.""
Her voice cracked.
"I wanted a family.""
"You wanted a family?""
My voice rose.
"You built one on a lie.""
Katherine cried quietly.
"I was afraid.""
"Of what?""
She looked at me.
"Of losing everything.""
There it was again.
The same reason.
Fear.
Money.
Security.
Survival.
But fear didn't excuse what she did.
It only explained it.
"Who was the father?""
Katherine looked down.
"I don't know.""
The answer surprised me.
"You don't know?""
She shook her head.
"It happened before I met you.""
I looked at Marcus.
He didn't meet my eyes.
"You know.""
He was silent.
"Marcus.""
He sighed.
Then said:
"Yes.""
My entire body went still.
"You know who Clara's father is?""
Marcus nodded.
"Yes.""
"Who?""
He looked at Katherine.
She closed her eyes.
Then whispered:
"Angelo.""
Nobody moved.
My father's name.
Again.
Impossible.
My father.
The man who was supposed to be dead.
The man who had called my wife.
The man who knew Clara mattered.
I shook my head.
"No.""
Marcus looked at me.
"Roman.""
"No.""
I stepped back.
"My father died before Clara was born.""
Salvatore spoke carefully.
"No.""
I looked at him.
"What did you say?""
Salvatore's face was full of regret.
"Angelo disappeared before Clara was born.""
The room tilted.
Disappeared.
Not died.
Disappeared.
A lifetime of assumptions collapsed.
I looked at Katherine.
"You were with my father?""
She nodded slowly.
"Once.""
"When?""
"Before you and I married.""
I stared at her.
The woman I had loved.
The man who raised me.
The family I thought I knew.
All connected by a secret buried beneath years of lies.
"Why didn't he claim her?""
Katherine looked toward the window.
"Because he believed someone was trying to destroy him.""
"Who?""
She shook her head.
"I never knew.""
Marcus interrupted.
"That's why Angelo contacted me.""
I turned.
"What?""
"He wanted me to protect Clara.""
The room went silent.
"From who?""
Marcus looked at the folder.
"From the person who knew her existence could destroy everything.""
I felt anger rising.
"Enough.""
Everyone stopped.
"I am done with half-truths.""
I pointed at Marcus.
"You knew Clara might be my sister.""
He nodded.
"You knew my father was alive.""
He nodded.
"You knew Katherine was hiding things.""
Another nod.
"And you still let me sit at that table tonight?""
His eyes filled with guilt.
"I was trying to find proof.""
"Proof?""
I laughed.
"My daughter almost watched me drink poison.""
His expression broke.
"I know.""
"No.""
I stepped closer.
"You don't know.""
The room was silent.
Because nobody did.
Nobody knew what it felt like to look at your child and realize someone had tried to take you away from her.
Then Katherine spoke.
"Roman.""
I turned.
She was crying.
But this time, I didn't know if it was guilt or fear.
"The poison wasn't meant for you.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
She looked at the glass.
"The wine was supposed to prove something.""
I frowned.
"What are you talking about?""
She swallowed.
"The person behind this wanted you to die.""
"Yes.""
"No.""
She shook her head.
"They wanted everyone to believe you died because of your own choices.""
I didn't understand.
Then Marcus opened another file.
Inside was a photograph.
A security image.
A person standing in my office.
Holding the wine bottle.
I looked closer.
The image was blurry.
But the person was recognizable.
The person had been inside my house.
Inside my office.
Inside my family.
My hands tightened.
Because it wasn't Katherine.
It wasn't Marcus.
It wasn't a stranger.
It was someone I had protected for years.
Someone who had sat at my table.
Someone who had called me family.
Salvatore whispered:
"No.""
I looked at him.
"Who is it?""
Nobody answered.
I already knew.
The photograph showed my uncle.
The man who had raised me after my father disappeared.
The man who had spent the entire night pretending to protect me.
Salvatore looked at the image.
His face collapsed.
Then the front doors of the house opened.
A voice echoed through the hallway.
"Roman.""
Everyone turned.
The voice was older.
Tired.
Familiar.
My father stood in the doorway.
Alive.
And the first words he spoke were not an apology.
Not an explanation.
They were a warning.
"Do not trust the man standing next to you.""
May you like
Every person in the room looked toward Salvatore.
And Salvatore reached slowly for his weapon.
