Chapter 5 - THE CONTRACT WITH MY SIGNATURE
The document appeared the next morning.
My signature.
My name.
My supposed agreement to marry Anthony Russo Jr.
Tony’s twenty-nine-year-old nephew.
I stared at it until the letters blurred.
“That is not my signature.”
Sophia placed another document beside it.
“It resembles signatures from your driver’s license and tax returns.”
“Because Regina had access to those.”
“I believe you.”
“Will a judge?”
“We need more.”
Michael stood near the window.
Silent.
Watching.
I hated how safe his silence felt.
“Where does the fifty thousand go?”
Sophia pointed.
“To Regina as ‘family settlement administrator.’”
I almost laughed.
“My stepmother sold me and gave herself a professional title.”
“The agreement also says you acknowledged inherited obligations.”
“I didn't.”
“We establish that.”
“How?”
“Forensic handwriting. Metadata. Witnesses.”
“Regina?”
“Finding her would help.”
Michael spoke.
“We’ll find her.”
Sophia looked at him.
“Legally.”
Michael stared.
“I know what legally means.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I like repeating it around you.”
I nearly smiled.
Later that day, Michael drove me to the courthouse.
He insisted on coming but remained outside the hearing room.
“Why?”
I asked.
“Why what?”
“Not enter.”
“Because Tony’s attorney wants this to look like I’m controlling you.”
“That is surprisingly self-aware.”
“I contain multitudes.”
I laughed.
He looked pleased with himself.
Inside, Tony’s lawyer described me as unstable.
A runaway.
A woman who accepted money then changed her mind after discovering a valuable trust.
Sophia calmly dismantled the argument.
No bank deposit to me.
No verified witness to my signature.
No communication between me and Anthony Jr.
The judge refused to enforce any marriage-related provision.
Obviously.
But he temporarily froze the disputed portion of my inherited interest pending verification of the alleged debt.
Half victory.
Half cage.
Outside, Michael stood when I emerged.
“Well?”
“Frozen.”
“For how long?”
“We don't know.”
His jaw tightened.
I surprised myself by saying:
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Fix it.”
He looked at me.
“I wasn't going to.”
“Yes, you were.”
A pause.
“Maybe.”
“I need to do this.”
“I know.”
That answer came easier now.
Something between us was changing.
That frightened me almost as much as Tony.
At Michael’s house, Zach had created wedding invitations.
Crayons.
Three pages.
One showed me in a purple dress.
One showed Zach wearing a cape.
The third showed Michael standing beside us with a giant frown.
“What is this?” Michael asked.
“You at the wedding.”
“Why am I angry?”
“You don’t like weddings.”
“I don’t like this wedding.”
Zach whispered to me:
“He’s jealous.”
Michael nearly choked on coffee.
I laughed.
“Zach.”
“What?”
“Your father is not jealous.”
Michael said nothing.
That was suspicious.
Teresa watched us from across the kitchen.
Later she found me alone.
“Be careful with my son.”
I stiffened.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I know.”
“That sounded like an accusation.”
“It wasn't.”
She sat.
“Michael spent four years becoming stone after Elena died.”
“His wife.”
“Yes.”
“He loved her.”
“Completely.”
I looked down.
“Then why are you warning me?”
“Because Zach is not the only one starting to look at you like you belong here.”
My pulse jumped.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Teresa smiled sadly.
“I raised him.”
“I’m a problem he feels guilty about because my father saved him.”
“Perhaps.”
“Exactly.”
“Perhaps guilt is why he opened the door.”
She looked toward the hallway Michael had just crossed.
“It isn't why he keeps checking whether you ate.”
I had noticed that too.
I changed the subject.
“You knew my father.”
Teresa nodded.
“Gabriel was kind.”
“What else?”
“He loved you.”
My throat tightened.
“He also made mistakes.”
“Like?”
“He trusted Regina too long.”
“What did she do?”
Teresa hesitated.
Then:
“She was not a stranger to Tony when she met your father.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Michael only learned recently.”
“Explain.”
“Regina worked at a private club Tony partially controlled.”
“How long?”
“Years.”
“So her meeting Dad wasn't random.”
“We don't think so.”
My stomach turned.
“She targeted him.”
“Maybe.”
“Because of Bellweather?”
“Possibly.”
I stood.
“Michael didn’t tell me.”
“He was waiting for confirmation.”
“Everyone keeps waiting to tell me my own life.”
Teresa looked ashamed.
“You’re right.”
I found Michael in his office.
“You knew Regina worked for Tony.”
His face hardened.
“Mother.”
“Do not blame her.”
“I was confirming.”
“No.”
I closed the door.
“You don’t get to decide when I can handle facts.”
He stared at me.
“You’re right.”
That answer disarmed me.
“I hate when you do that.”
“Agree?”
“Yes.”
“I can become less reasonable.”
“I’m sure.”
Then he opened a file.
Regina’s employment records.
Photographs from nine years ago.
Tony.
Regina.
A charity event.
Two years before she met my father.
“She knew him.”
“Yes.”
“So the marriage to Dad was planned.”
“We think Tony wanted someone close to Gabriel after Victor began moving assets.”
“Did Regina love my father?”
Michael looked uncomfortable.
“I can't answer that.”
Neither could I.
That somehow hurt most.
Later, Luca found a former employee who remembered Regina copying Gabriel’s office keys.
Another recalled seeing her photograph documents.
Piece by piece, my childhood became a crime scene.
Then a package arrived.
No return address.
Inside was the original alleged marriage contract.
Sophia immediately sealed it for forensic testing.
But there was something else.
A note.
ASK MICHAEL WHAT HE DID WITH THE SECOND CAR.
I looked at him.
His face went blank.
“What second car?”
No answer.
“Michael.”
He closed the door.
“The night your father died, there were two vehicles.”
“You said his car.”
“There was another.”
“Who was driving?”
Silence.
“Tony?”
“No.”
“Regina?”
Michael looked at me.
“No.”
“Then who?”
He exhaled.
“My brother.”
I stared.
“You have a brother?”
“Had.”
“What happened?”
“He disappeared after the crash.”
My pulse quickened.
“Why?”
“Because I believed he was the one who gave Tony the route.”
“You thought your brother helped kill my father?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I ordered him out of New York.”
“Did you kill him?”
Michael's eyes flashed.
“No.”
“Where is he?”
“I haven't seen him in seven years.”
Then Luca entered without knocking.
He looked shaken.
“Boss.”
Michael turned.
“What?”
“We found Regina.”
“Where?”
“New Jersey.”
I stood.
Luca continued.
“She’s not alone.”
“Tony?”
“No.”
He looked directly at Michael.
“Your brother.”
The room became completely silent.
May you like
Michael’s supposedly vanished brother had been with my stepmother all along.
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