Chapter 10 - the bloodline war
The thunder cracked overhead, shaking the remaining timbers of the collapsed cabin.
Victor stood frozen for a second, his mind assembling three decades of mob warfare into a single, horrifying picture.
The Bellaro and Moretti families had slaughtered each other for forty years. Men had died in the streets of Brooklyn and Manhattan over territory, docks, and casino rights.
Yet at the very top, Silvio Bellaro and Lorenzo Moretti had arranged a secret truce through a blood marriage between Elena and Lorenzo.
“Silvio hid Celeste with the Vance family after Lorenzo was assassinated,” Julian said, his voice rising over the wind. “He paid our father millions of dollars to raise her as a Vance so the Moretti capos wouldn't hunt her down and use her as a puppet. But when Silvio grew old and sick, he realized the truth.”
“What truth?” Clara asked, her voice trembling slightly as she held the old cassette tapes.
“That Victor would never accept peace,” Julian said, pointing directly at Victor. “Your father knew that if you found out Celeste had Moretti blood, you would never marry her to unite the two families. So Silvio planned to reveal it on his deathbed—to force the merger!”
“My father never forced anyone into anything,” Victor growled, his dark eyes flashing with lethal fury. “And he would never give the Bellaro seat to a woman who poisoned his brother!”
Julian’s eyes darted toward the forest road. “Celeste didn't poison Thomas! She went to that hospice to offer Thomas protection! She wanted him to come home!”
“Then why did she bring cyanide?” Clara said coldly.
Julian stopped talking. The color drained from his lips.
Clara held up the leather-bound medical journal from the rusted box. She opened it to the final bookmarked page.
“This isn't Silvio’s handwriting,” Clara said, looking up at Victor. “This is the head physician's log from St. Anthony’s Hospice. The toxic screen was done three days after Thomas died. His heart stopped because of high-dose digitalis mixed into his evening tea. And the guest log notes that Celeste brought him a thermos of homemade broth that very evening.”
Julian stumbled back against the chimney, looking like a man standing before a firing squad. “She... she told me it was a heart attack. She swore to me...”
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“She lied to you, Julian,” Victor said, stepping forward until the barrel of his gun was an inch from Julian’s forehead. “Just like she lied to me. Just like she lied to the entire city.”
***
