Chapter 8 - THE NAME ON THE CERTIFICATE
-8
For most of his life, Vittorio had believed Enzo DeLuca was his father.
Not believed in the casual way people accepted ordinary facts.
He had built his identity around it.
Enzo’s temper.
Enzo’s discipline.
Enzo’s old-fashioned loyalty.
Enzo’s habit of standing at windows when thinking.
Vittorio had copied that without realizing.
Now a single document threatened to turn memory into performance.
Dominic Vale.
Celeste’s father.
Matteo’s godfather.
The man who had attacked Matteo.
The man who had helped Bernadette hide the ledger.
According to the newly discovered birth certificate, Dominic Vale was Vittorio’s biological father.
Vittorio read the document three times.
“Could be fake.”
Detective Ellis nodded.
“It could.”
“Is it?”
“We’re verifying.”
“Why would Celeste have it?”
“That’s a better question.”
Matteo stood across the room, pale.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Dad?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re older than me.”
“By seven years. I wasn’t in the room when you were born.”
Vittorio gave him a sharp look.
Matteo raised his hands.
“Bad joke.”
Vittorio returned to the document.
Bernadette DeLuca.
Mother.
Dominic Vale.
Father.
Signed by a physician whose name Vittorio did not recognize.
The certificate had never been filed with the state.
It looked like a hospital original.
A private record.
“Why keep it?”
Matteo asked.
“Leverage,” Vittorio said.
“Against Enzo?”
“Or Dominic.”
Ellis added, “Or Vittorio.”
Vittorio looked at her.
She continued.
“If your father believed you were his biological child but somebody had proof otherwise, that could be used to manipulate him.”
“He raised me.”
“I’m not questioning that.”
Matteo sat down.
“Dad knew.”
Vittorio turned.
“How?”
“The diary.”
“What about it?”
“There was an entry I didn’t understand.”
Matteo opened the scanned pages.
Twenty-nine years ago.
One year before Matteo disappeared.
Bernadette says blood should not matter after all these years.
Easy for her to say.
The boy is mine because I raised him.
I will never tell Vittorio.
Dominic believes his secret gives him power.
He is wrong.
Vittorio felt something ache behind his ribs.
Enzo knew.
And still called him his son.
That should have comforted him.
Instead it made the entire tragedy more complicated.
“What was Dominic threatening?”
Matteo kept reading.
Another entry.
D says he wants his share recognized.
Bernadette says she can control him.
I told her control has poisoned this house.
She laughed.
That sentence echoed.
Control has poisoned this house.
Perhaps Enzo had meant it metaphorically.
Perhaps not.
Detective Ellis received a call.
She stepped outside.
When she returned, her expression had sharpened.
“The certificate is probably authentic.”
Vittorio said nothing.
“The doctor worked at a private clinic where your mother gave birth. Records were later transferred to another facility.”
“State certificate?”
“Lists Enzo.”
“So this was hidden.”
“Yes.”
“Did Enzo legally adopt me?”
“Not necessary if he was presumed father and recognized you.”
Vittorio did not care about legality.
He cared about motive.
“Celeste.”
Ellis nodded.
“We’re obtaining a warrant.”
“Is she still at her office?”
“She left.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“We don’t know.”
Vittorio looked at Marco.
“Find her.”
Ellis immediately said, “Do not interfere with police.”
“I said find, not touch.”
“You have a flexible relationship with those words.”
Vittorio ignored her.
Matteo remained focused on Enzo’s diary.
“Here.”
“What?”
“Dominic wanted Vittorio recognized.”
“Why?”
Matteo read aloud.
Dominic says if the truth comes out, Vittorio’s ownership changes everything.
Bernadette insists the corporate documents protect us.
I no longer understand which of them is using the other.
Vittorio frowned.
“My ownership?”
Then he understood.
The oldest family assets did not originate entirely with Enzo.
Part of DeLuca Holdings had been formed through a partnership between Enzo and Dominic before Vittorio was born.
Dominic later sold his legal ownership.
But what if side agreements existed?
What if the hidden paternity mattered to succession rights in some private trust?
Marco began calling corporate counsel.
Not Vale & Vale.
Independent counsel.
Within two hours, they found a dormant trust established by Dominic’s mother.
It contained minority shares in several holding companies later consolidated into the DeLuca empire.
The beneficiary language was unusual.
Dominic Vale and his lawful descendants.
If Vittorio was Dominic’s biological son and the hidden certificate could be authenticated—
Vittorio might have inherited assets that Celeste believed belonged to her.
Matteo stared.
“So Celeste has a financial reason to hate you.”
“More than that,” Vittorio said.
“If I establish paternity, her share could be reduced.”
Ellis returned with another update.
Police had found Celeste’s car.
Abandoned near the Hudson.
No Celeste.
Inside the trunk were shredded documents.
A laptop.
Two passports.
Cash.
“She ran,” Matteo said.
“Looks like it,” Ellis replied.
“Then arrest Bernadette.”
“We are.”
Bernadette was taken into custody that afternoon.
This time, she was charged in connection with Luca’s poisoning.
Vittorio did not attend.
He watched the news from the apartment with the sound muted.
Bernadette appeared composed while police led her down courthouse steps.
She glanced toward the cameras.
For one second, Vittorio saw the old woman from the patio.
Not frightened now.
Calculating.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Vittorio.”
Celeste.
He stood.
“Where are you?”
“You always were impatient.”
“You sent someone to Luca.”
“I sent no one.”
“Karen Wills says otherwise.”
“Karen Wills is a liar.”
“You have my birth certificate.”
A pause.
“So they found the box.”
“What does Dominic have to do with this?”
“He has everything to do with it.”
“He’s dead.”
“So are many people who still control your life.”
Vittorio gripped the phone.
“You knew Bernadette was poisoning Luca.”
“No.”
“You knew she poisoned Sofia.”
Another pause.
That silence answered enough.
“What happened to my wife?”
“Ask your mother.”
“I’m asking you.”
“She was warned.”
“By who?”
“Everyone.”
“Did you help kill her?”
Celeste’s voice changed.
“You still think death is the worst thing your family did.”
Vittorio felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
“Your mother did not build her power by killing people.”
“Then how?”
“By rewriting them.”
He frowned.
“Rewriting what?”
“Their medical records. Their finances. Their reputations. Their legal competence. She didn’t need bodies, Vittorio. She needed signatures.”
Vittorio remembered Enzo’s decline.
The repeated illnesses.
Guardianship plans.
The ledger.
“Why help her?”
Celeste laughed softly.
“Because my father did.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No. The answer is that by the time I realized what our parents had built, I was already part of it.”
“You could have stopped.”
“So could your father.”
“So could Matteo.”
Matteo looked up at his name.
Celeste continued.
“So could Sofia.”
Vittorio’s voice dropped.
“Do not say her name.”
“She was clever. Too clever.”
“What did she discover?”
“That the DeLuca fortune was not merely manipulated.”
Vittorio waited.
“It was stolen.”
“From who?”
“Families. Partners. Investors. People declared incompetent after convenient illnesses. Widows pressured into transfers. Men ruined by medical records that suddenly appeared.”
Vittorio felt nauseated.
“How much?”
“Enough that if the truth comes out, your empire becomes evidence.”
The room went silent.
Vittorio looked around at the apartment.
At the security men.
At the wealth that had shaped his life.
“How much did Enzo know?”
“Enough to hate himself.”
“And Bernadette?”
“She knew everything.”
“Where are the original records?”
Celeste laughed.
“You think I’m going to tell you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you called me.”
Silence.
That landed.
Celeste had not called to gloat.
She needed something.
“What do you want?”
“The blue box.”
“The police have it.”
“Not that one.”
Vittorio frowned.
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Where are the others?”
“One disappeared with Sofia.”
His heart stopped.
“What?”
“And one disappeared with Matteo.”
Vittorio looked at his brother.
Matteo shook his head.
“I don’t have it.”
Celeste heard the silence.
Then whispered, “He’s there, isn’t he?”
Vittorio ended the call.
Too late.
Matteo stared at him.
“She knows I’m alive.”
“Yes.”
Marco’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
He looked at Vittorio.
“Someone just broke into Elaine Mercer’s house.”
Matteo shot to his feet.
“Is she alive?”
Marco listened.
Then nodded.
“She wasn’t home.”
“Anything taken?”
Marco’s eyes hardened.
“All of Matteo’s letters.”
The past was no longer sitting quietly in storage.
May you like
Someone was actively erasing it again.
And now they knew Matteo had returned.
