Chapter 16 - the woman in white called Dominic by the name only his mother knew
Dominic did not sleep on the flight to Sicily.
The photograph remained on the table in front of him.
The silver-haired woman.
Vivienne.
And the man who looked enough like Dominic to make Frank stare twice before saying:
“Boss… you sure your father didn’t have another son?”
Dominic had not answered.
The private jet touched down outside Palermo before sunset.
Dominic brought twelve men.
Then dismissed ten of them at the airport.
Frank stared.
“You’re going into a Valerio compound with two guards?”
“I’m going to meet my mother.”
“If she’s really your mother.”
Dominic looked at the gold signet ring.
Exactly.
A black sedan waited outside.
No weapons visible.
The driver handed Dominic an envelope.
Inside:
Directions.
And one sentence.
COME WITHOUT THE COMMISSION.
Dominic almost laughed.
His mother had apparently been alive forty years and already thought she could give orders.
He went anyway.
The villa was not in Palermo.
It sat high above the Sicilian coast, surrounded by olive groves and pale limestone walls.
No armed army waited at the gate.
Only an elderly housekeeper.
She looked at Dominic.
Then began crying.
“Domenico.”
Dominic froze.
Nobody called him that.
Not since childhood.
His mother had used it when he had nightmares.
The memory came from somewhere so deep it almost felt invented.
The housekeeper whispered:
“Your mother is waiting.”
Dominic entered.
Adriana Valerio stood on the terrace.
The woman from the photograph.
Closer now.
Late sixties.
Elegant.
Composed.
But her hands shook around the teacup.
Dominic stopped twenty feet away.
“You’re dead.”
Adriana’s eyes filled.
“So were you.”
His jaw tightened.
“Where is my daughter?”
“Safe.”
“That is not an answer.”
A shadow moved behind the terrace doors.
The man from the photograph stepped outside.
Dominic’s body went rigid.
Same height.
Same shoulders.
Same dark eyes.
A slightly thinner scar across the chin.
The stranger stared at Dominic with an expression that looked almost as disturbed as Dominic felt.
Then he said:
“I wondered whether seeing you would feel like looking in a mirror.”
Dominic turned toward Adriana.
“Who is he?”
She closed her eyes.
“Your brother.”
“Marcus is in federal custody.”
“Marcus was never my son.”
Dominic remembered his father’s letter.
Salvatore Moretti’s child.
Adopted after war.
Then he looked back toward the stranger.
“My father never told me about another child.”
“No,” Adriana whispered.
“He made sure you wouldn’t know.”
The stranger stepped forward.
“My name is Dante.”
Dominic looked at him.
“How old?”
Dante smiled bitterly.
“Forty-two.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
His own age.
Then Adriana said:
“Seven minutes.”
Dominic slowly turned.
“What?”
“You were born seven minutes before him.”
Silence.
Frank muttered something under his breath.
Dominic stared at Dante.
Twin.
Not younger brother.
Not cousin.
Identical twin.
A second Valerio son erased so completely that Dominic had never heard his name.
Then a little voice came from inside.
“Daddy?”
Dominic turned.
Clara stood in the doorway.
Safe.
Clean.
No restraints.
Elena immediately behind her.
Dominic crossed the terrace in seconds and dropped to one knee.
Clara ran into him.
He held her so tightly Elena finally whispered:
“Dominic.”
He loosened his arms.
Right.
Clara was a child.
Not something to seize back.
She touched his cheek.
“You came.”
“Always.”
Then Dominic looked at Elena.
Her expression held relief.
And guilt.
“You knew her.”
Elena looked toward Adriana.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
Elena swallowed.
“Since the day Clara was born.”
Dominic stood slowly.
The terrace seemed to tilt.
“You knew my mother was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I had a twin.”
Elena’s voice broke.
“Yes.”
Dominic took one step backward.
Not toward her.
Away.
Because the rage inside him felt too large.
Dante spoke.
“Before you decide everyone here is your enemy, there are documents you need to see.”
Dominic’s gaze cut toward him.
“Do not tell me what I need.”
“Fine.”
Dante held out a folder.
“Then decide whether you want to know why your father separated us before either of us could speak.”
Dominic looked at Clara.
Then Elena.
Then his mother.
Then the twin brother whose existence had been erased from his entire life.
Finally:
“Show me.”
Adriana opened the folder.
The first page was a birth certificate.
Not one child.
Two.
Dominic Paolo Valerio.
Dante Paolo Valerio.
Then underneath it—
a document signed by Dominic’s father forty-two years earlier.
SEPARATION AND SUCCESSION ACCORD.
And beside his father’s signature—
May you like
was Adriana’s.
👉 Dominic had flown to Sicily expecting to rescue Clara from another enemy, only to discover his mother had helped sign the agreement that erased his own twin brother from the Valerio family.
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