Chapter 7 — The Brother
Chapter 7 — The Brother
The house stood beyond a forest of dead trees.
No lights.
No road.
No neighbors.
Nothing but an iron gate hanging crookedly from two stone pillars and a narrow driveway disappearing beneath the snow.
My mother stared through the windshield.
“This is it.”
Alessandro looked at the abandoned property.
“Who lived here?”
She hesitated.
“Your grandfather.”
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
“My grandfather died before I was born.”
“That is what you were told.”
I looked at her.
“How many lies have you told us?”
She closed her eyes.
“Enough to keep you alive.”
Alessandro's voice was cold.
“And now?”
“Now the lies are killing you.”
The convoy stopped.
Matteo stepped out first.
He studied the house through binoculars.
“No movement.”
Alessandro looked at him.
“That doesn't mean anything.”
“I know.”
He turned toward me.
“Stay behind me.”
I nodded.
My mother remained inside the SUV.
Daniel looked at her.
“You're coming.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“You know what's inside.”
“Yes.”
“Then you're coming.”
She stared at him.
Finally, she stepped out.
The front door was unlocked.
That frightened me more than a locked door would have.
We entered.
The house smelled of dust and old wood.
The furniture was covered in white sheets.
A grandfather clock stood against the wall.
Its hands had stopped at 3:17.
Alessandro noticed it.
“That's the time of the accident.”
My stomach tightened.
Daniel walked toward the clock.
He touched the glass.
“This wasn't here when I came last time.”
Alessandro looked at him.
“You've been here?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Once.”
“When?”
“After the accident.”
“You were alive.”
“Yes.”
“And you came here?”
“I was looking for someone.”
“Who?”
Daniel didn't answer.
My mother did.
“His brother.”
Alessandro went completely still.
“What brother?”
My mother looked at him.
“Your father had another son.”
Silence.
I stared at Alessandro.
He looked genuinely shocked.
“I don't have a brother.”
“You do.”
“Who?”
My mother whispered:
“Michael.”
Daniel's face tightened.
Alessandro shook his head.
“Michael died when he was eight.”
“No.”
My mother looked toward the staircase.
“He was taken.”
“By whom?”
“Your father.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because Michael was born with a claim to the trust.”
“And I wasn't?”
“You were his replacement.”
The words landed like a blow.
I watched Alessandro absorb them.
For the first time since I'd met him, he looked like a wounded son instead of a powerful man.
“My father replaced his own son?”
My mother nodded.
“Michael disappeared.”
“And nobody searched?”
“People searched.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“My mother knew?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't she tell me?”
“Because she was afraid your father would take you too.”
A sound came from upstairs.
One floorboard creaked.
Everyone froze.
Matteo raised his weapon.
Another creak.
Then silence.
Alessandro motioned toward the staircase.
We moved slowly.
The second floor contained four bedrooms.
Three were empty.
The fourth had a child's room.
A small bed.
A wooden train.
A faded photograph.
I walked closer.
The photograph showed two boys.
One was Alessandro.
The other looked almost identical.
But there was something different in the second boy's expression.
He wasn't smiling.
On the back was a name.
Michael.
Alessandro picked it up.
His hand trembled.
“He was real.”
My mother nodded.
“He was your brother.”
Alessandro stared at the photograph.
“Why did I forget him?”
“Because your father made sure you did.”
Daniel looked at the room.
“He used doctors.”
I turned toward him.
“What?”
“After Michael disappeared, Alessandro was told his brother had died.”
“But why would he forget him?”
Daniel looked at Alessandro.
“Because you were eight.”
Alessandro's eyes darkened.
“You're saying I was manipulated.”
“Yes.”
“By my own father.”
“Yes.”
Before anyone could speak, a voice came from the hallway.
“Not manipulated.”
We turned.
A man stood at the far end.
Black coat.
Tall.
Dark hair.
A scar ran from his temple to his jaw.
He was holding a gun.
But he wasn't pointing it at us.
He was pointing it at Daniel.
“Controlled.”
Daniel froze.
“Michael.”
The man smiled.
“Hello, brother.”
Alessandro stared.
The room seemed to stop breathing.
Michael slowly lowered the gun.
“You grew up.”
Alessandro's voice was barely audible.
“So did you.”
Michael laughed.
“I wasn't supposed to.”
Nobody moved.
Michael walked toward us.
He looked at Alessandro with an expression I couldn't read.
Love.
Anger.
Resentment.
Perhaps all three.
Alessandro studied his face.
“You're alive.”
“Obviously.”
“I thought you died.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you come back?”
Michael's smile disappeared.
“Because your father told me you would kill me.”
Alessandro frowned.
“I would never.”
Michael laughed bitterly.
“You were eight.”
“I don't remember.”
“That was the point.”
He reached into his coat.
I flinched.
He pulled out a small photograph.
He handed it to Alessandro.
It showed the two brothers as children.
On the back was handwriting.
ONE SON WILL INHERIT. THE OTHER WILL DISAPPEAR.
Alessandro stared at it.
“Father wrote this.”
Michael nodded.
“He chose you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were easier to control.”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“And you?”
“I asked questions.”
Michael looked at me.
“People who ask questions don't survive in our family.”
I felt a chill.
“Why did you take Emma?”
Michael's eyes hardened.
“I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
“Lorenzo.”
Alessandro stepped forward.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“Where is my daughter?”
Michael looked at him.
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“I can't tell you.”
Alessandro's voice became dangerous.
“Michael.”
“You think I'm afraid of you?”
“No.”
Alessandro moved closer.
“You're afraid of him.”
Michael's expression changed.
For the first time, he looked afraid.
“Yes.”
Michael took us downstairs.
Behind the library was another hidden passage.
At the end was a steel door.
He entered a code.
The door opened.
Inside was a small command room.
Screens.
Computers.
Maps.
Photographs.
And one enormous board covering the wall.
At the center was Emma.
Surrounded by photographs of me.
Alessandro.
Daniel.
Lorenzo.
Michael.
My mother.
I stared.
“How long have you been watching us?”
Michael answered:
“Years.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew Lorenzo would come for you eventually.”
“You could have warned me.”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Every time I got close, he found me.”
I looked at him.
“Then why let Emma be taken?”
“I didn't.”
Michael pointed toward the screen.
A live video appeared.
Emma was sitting in a room.
Alive.
She was holding Mr. Rabbit.
My heart broke.
“Emma!”
She looked toward the camera.
“Mama?”
I stepped forward.
Michael stopped me.
“It's a live feed.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“Lorenzo moves her every few hours.”
Alessandro stared at the screen.
“Then how do you track her?”
Michael pointed toward a tiny symbol beside the video.
“Her toy.”
I looked at Mr. Rabbit.
“What?”
“I put a tracker inside it.”
My heart stopped.
“You gave her that toy?”
“No.”
Michael looked at Alessandro.
“Your father did.”
Alessandro frowned.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to know where she was.”
I looked at the screen.
Emma hugged the rabbit.
Then she whispered:
“Mama.”
I leaned closer.
“What?”
She looked toward someone outside the camera.
Her expression changed.
She said something.
Michael increased the audio.
A man's voice came through.
“Tell your mother the truth.”
Emma shook her head.
“I don't know.”
The man laughed.
“Your grandmother knows.”
My mother stepped backward.
She went pale.
“Turn it off.”
I looked at her.
“What truth?”
She shook her head.
“Turn it off.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“What did he mean?”
She didn't answer.
Michael looked at her.
“You never told them.”
“Told them what?”
Michael's expression became grim.
“That Emma isn't the only child.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
He pointed to another screen.
A photograph appeared.
A baby.
A hospital bracelet.
A date.
Three years ago.
I stared.
The name on the bracelet was:
EVA CARTER.
I shook my head.
“No.”
Michael looked at me.
“She was born the same night as Emma.”
My mother began crying.
I turned toward her.
“Mom.”
She whispered:
“I tried to save both of you.”
“Both?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
My mother looked at Alessandro.
“Lorenzo has her.”
The room went silent.
Alessandro's voice became dangerously quiet.
“How old is she?”
“Three.”
“Then why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because she isn't just your daughter.”
I looked at my mother.
“What does that mean?”
She swallowed.
“Eva was created from the same genetic material as Emma.”
Daniel's face changed.
Michael stared at the screen.
Alessandro said:
“There were two embryos.”
My mother nodded.
“One was implanted in Anna.”
“And the other?”
“Another woman.”
“Who?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Me.”
I stopped breathing.
My mother looked at me.
“I carried Eva.”
Silence.
“You…”
“Yes.”
“You had another child?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Lorenzo took her.”
I felt tears fill my eyes.
“Why?”
“Because he needed a second heir.”
Michael stepped closer.
“And that's why Emma was never the real target.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Lorenzo doesn't need Emma.”
Michael pointed to the screen.
“He needs Eva.”
Alessandro's face hardened.
“Where is she?”
Michael brought up a map.
A red dot appeared.
Northern Wisconsin.
An old church.
“That's where Lorenzo is taking her.”
Daniel grabbed his coat.
“Then we go now.”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
Alessandro looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because it's a trap.”
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
Michael stepped closer.
“Lorenzo wants you there.”
“Then he'll get me.”
“He wants you angry.”
“I am.”
“He wants you reckless.”
Alessandro's eyes became cold.
“Then I'll disappoint him.”
Michael smiled faintly.
“Good.”
The convoy left twenty minutes later.
This time Michael came with us.
I sat beside Alessandro.
Daniel was in the vehicle behind us.
My mother remained under heavy guard.
Snow fell harder.
Alessandro stared through the window.
“You have a brother.”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
“You have a daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And another child who may be yours.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head.
“Three days ago I thought my life was simple.”
I smiled sadly.
“So did I.”
He looked at me.
Then his hand moved across the seat.
He took mine.
I didn't pull away.
“I'll bring both girls home.”
I looked at him.
“Promise?”
He squeezed my hand.
“Promise.”
The old church appeared through the snow.
Dark.
Abandoned.
But one light burned inside.
Michael looked at it.
“She's here.”
Alessandro opened the door.
Daniel stopped him.
“Wait.”
A sound came from the church.
A child's laughter.
Then another.
Emma.
Alessandro froze.
Michael looked toward the building.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because Emma isn't there.”
The church doors opened.
A woman stepped outside.
She held a little girl.
Three years old.
Dark curls.
Yellow sweater.
Mr. Rabbit in her arms.
I screamed:
“Emma!”
The child looked toward me.
But she wasn't Emma.
She looked almost identical.
Except for one difference.
Her eyes were green.
She smiled.
And behind her stood Lorenzo Moretti.
He looked directly at Alessandro.
Then he said:
“Meet your second daughter.”
Alessandro stopped breathing.
The little girl raised one hand.
May you like
And whispered:
“Daddy?”
