Chapter 7 - The Confession
Vincent’s protective instincts flared instantly. He kept one arm firmly around Elena’s waist as he turned to face the house manager.
What are you talking about, Mrs. Doyle? Vincent asked, his tone shifting back to the commanding, quiet voice of a boss.
Mrs. Doyle stepped out onto the balcony, the moonlight catching her short silver hair. She looked at Elena with profound apology before meeting Vincent’s intense gaze.
James Reyes is not just a man who worked for the Rossi syndicate, Mrs. Doyle began, her voice steady but laced with old pain. His real name is James Marquette. He is your younger cousin.
Vincent froze. His entire body went rigid as stone.
Elena gasped, stepping back slightly, her mind reeling. James was a Marquette?
Yes, Mrs. Doyle continued. When your uncle was killed in the syndicate wars twenty years ago, James was just a boy. I was his nanny back then, before I became your house manager. I helped him run away. I helped him change his name to Reyes so he could live a normal life, far away from the mafia.
Vincent’s sharp features twisted with a terrifying, boiling anger. You knew? You knew he was alive, and you let him steal from a rival cartel? You let him abandon his wife and child?
I didn't know he had become corrupt! Mrs. Doyle pleaded, tears finally breaking her composed facade. He contacted me four years ago, terrified. He said the Rossis were going to kill him. He begged me for money to disappear. I gave him my savings. I told him to take his pregnant wife and run. I had no idea he left Elena behind to face the fallout alone until she walked into this kitchen looking for a job.
Vincent stepped away from Elena, pacing the balcony like a caged predator. His mind raced. James was blood. The man who had abandoned Elena, the man who had traded his own daughter to the Rossis, was family.
Why didn't you tell me when Elena arrived? Vincent demanded, his gray eyes blazing with furious betrayal.
Because I knew what you would do to him! Mrs. Doyle cried. If you knew he was a Marquette who had betrayed his own blood by abandoning his child, you would have killed him yourself. I was trying to spare you the sin of killing your own family.
Elena watched the massive, intimidating man struggle with the weight of the betrayal. She stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Vincent’s tense, muscular back.
Vincent, Elena said softly, her voice a soothing balm against his rage. It doesn't matter who he is. He is nothing to me now. You are Lily’s father in every way that counts.
Vincent turned to her, his anger melting at the sight of her pure, unwavering love. He pulled her into his arms again, holding her tight.
He looked at Mrs. Doyle. The older woman was shaking, expecting to be banished from the estate or worse.
You kept a secret that endangered my house, Vincent said coldly. But you also brought Elena and Lily to my door. For that, you will remain in your position. But you will never speak to James again.
Thank you, sir, Mrs. Doyle whispered, bowing her head deeply before retreating back into the mansion.
The next morning, Vincent took Marco and drove to the warehouse where James was being held. The warehouse was heavily guarded, the bright sunlight outside contrasting with the dim, cold interior.
James was tied to a chair, looking pathetic and bruised, though Vincent’s men had orders not to break him.
Vincent walked in, looking immaculate in his white dress shirt and dark trousers. He stood over his cousin, radiating absolute, terrifying power.
Vincent! James cried, looking up. Come on, man. We’re blood. You can't keep me locked up like this. Give me some cash, let me see Elena, and I’ll disappear again. I promise.
Vincent stared at him with pure disgust. You are a coward, James. You left your wife to drown in medical debt for a child you never bothered to meet. You don't deserve the Marquette name, and you certainly don't deserve Elena.
What are you going to do to me? James stammered, shrinking back against the chair.
I bought your life from the Rossis, Vincent said, his voice quiet and lethal. That means I own it. You are going to sign divorce papers today. You are going to sign over all parental rights to Lily. And then, Marco is going to put you on a cargo ship heading to South America. If you ever return to the United States, if you ever breathe Elena’s name again, I will not be as merciful as I am today.
May you like
James nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face. I’ll sign! I’ll sign whatever you want! Just let me live!
Vincent turned his back on the pathetic man, his heart completely detached from the blood they shared. He walked out of the warehouse, stepping into the bright, cinematic sunlight, ready to return to the only family that mattered.
