Chapter 4 - THE UNCLE WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
Vittorio Romano had spent forty years making himself indispensable.
He controlled family introductions.
Managed old business relationships.
And knew which secrets belonged in locked drawers.
Gabriel trusted him because Vittorio had helped raise him after his father's death.
But trust was beginning to crack.
The morning after the wedding, Gabriel met with Marco and his attorney, Evelyn Price.
They reviewed the hotel footage.
Arthur Bell had moved the equipment case through a service corridor.
Vittorio had entered the same corridor twelve minutes earlier.
Then the camera feed went dark.
Gabriel stared at the screen.
“Convenient.”
Evelyn nodded.
“The outage is being investigated.”
Marco leaned forward.
“Arthur's financial records show unexplained deposits.”
Gabriel looked up.
“From whom?”
“An intermediary company.”
“Owned by?”
Marco hesitated.
“Still being verified.”
Meanwhile, I was sitting in the conservatory when Elena Romano entered.
She wore pearls.
A tailored cream suit.
And the expression of a woman who had never apologized in her life.
“Catherine.”
I looked up.
“Good morning.”
She sat across from me.
“I understand Gabriel made a scene last night.”
I folded my hands.
“He was concerned.”
Elena laughed softly.
“About your hand?”
I stared.
She continued.
“You should have told him it was nothing.”
I felt heat rise in my face.
“It wasn't nothing.”
Her expression hardened.
“You don't understand this family.”
I looked at her.
“Then explain it.”
She leaned forward.
“People like you come and go. The Romano name remains.”
I swallowed.
“I'm Gabriel's wife.”
She smiled coldly.
“On paper.”
I stood.
“Excuse me.”
She reached for my wrist.
I flinched.
Elena noticed.
For a moment, something uncertain crossed her face.
Then she released me.
“Don't be dramatic.”
I walked away.
That afternoon, Gabriel found me in the library.
I was trying to turn a page with my injured hand.
He sat beside me.
“Mom came to see you.”
I looked up.
“How do you know?”
“She told me.”
I sighed.
“Of course.”
He studied my face.
“What did she say?”
I hesitated.
Then told him.
Every word.
Gabriel listened.
When I finished, he looked toward the window.
Then said:
“She won't speak to you that way again.”
I smiled sadly.
“You can't control what she thinks.”
“No,” he said. “But I can control what I tolerate in my home.”
That evening, Elena received a message from her son.
May you like
You owe Catherine an apology. Until you can offer one sincerely, you are not welcome at the estate.
For the first time in decades, Elena Romano realized her son was no longer willing to sacrifice someone else's dignity to keep the family comfortable.
