Chapter 133 *
Lorenzo's POV
I was going through the quarterly reports when Marco knocked on my office door.
"Boss." His face was tight. "You need to see this."
I didn't look up from the spreadsheet. "Can it wait?"
"No sir. It really can't."
Something in his voice made me stop. I'd known Marco for fifteen years. He didn't scare easily.
I set down my pen. "Come in."
He crossed the room in three steps. Dropped a sealed manila envelope on my desk.
The thing was thick. Heavy. Like it was packed with documents.
"What is this?" I asked.
"The report you asked for. About the adoption." Marco's jaw was tight. "The private investigator finished digging."
My stomach dropped.
I'd hired someone to look into Zelda's background.
I should've done it years ago. But we'd all been so happy when she came home. So relieved.
God brought her back to us. That's what Mom had said.
I picked up the envelope. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"You read this?" I asked Marco.
"No sir. He gave it directly to me. Said you'd want to see it first."
I nodded. "Close the door on your way out."
Marco left without another word. The door clicked shut.
I sat there for a long moment. Just staring at the envelope.
Then I ripped it open.
The first page was a summary. Bullet points. The investigator's key findings.
My eyes scanned down the list.
Then stopped.
I read the line again. Slower this time.
DNA paternity test confirms: Zelda Romano is the biological daughter of Salvatore Romano and Miranda Kestrel.
The words didn't make sense. I read them a third time.
My hands started shaking.
I flipped to the next page. Birth certificate. Original, not the amended adoption paperwork.
I turned another page. Photographs. Miranda and my father. Entering a hotel together. Multiple dates. Multiple locations.
My vision started tunneling.
I kept flipping. Bank statements. Monthly transfers from one of Dad's shell accounts to Miranda's personal account. Going back twenty-three years.
Hospital records. Miranda gave birth at a private clinic in Vermont. Salvatore Romano listed as the father. He'd paid the medical bills in cash.
The room was spinning.
I forced myself to keep reading. To see all of it.
More photos. Miranda with a baby. The infant had the same eyes as me. The same nose as Nico. The same jaw as Graham.
Because she was our sister. Our actual sister.
Not adopted. Not some miracle child who happened to look like us.
Our father's bastard daughter.
My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped the papers.
I thought about the day Zelda came home. How Mom had cried. How she'd pulled that little girl into her arms and held her like she'd never let go.
"I knew you'd come back to us. I always knew."
The adoption agency had told us the birth parents were dead. Car accident. No other family.
All lies. Because there was no adoption agency. No tragic accident. No fate bringing her home.
Just my father's mistress. Dumping her bastard on us. Making us raise her.
My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth would crack.
I'd bought Zelda a four-hundred-thousand-dollar tiara at a Sotheby's auction. Just because she mentioned liking it.
I'd personally vetted every boy she ever dated. Threatened half of them. Broke the nose of one who got too handsy.
I'd been her big brother. Her protector.
And the whole time, she'd been lying to my face.
I was cold to her for a few days. Just a few days. Because she'd been treating Scarlett like garbage.
And her response? Conspire with her mother to have me killed.
Even a fucking dog would show some loyalty after years.
But not Zelda.
A bitter laugh escaped my throat. It sounded wrong in the quiet office.
I looked at the photo again. Miranda Kestrel holding baby Zelda.
The woman looked pleased with herself. Like she'd won something.
She'd gotten millions from my father. Monthly payments for two decades.
She'd gotten her daughter raised in luxury. And now she wanted more. Wanted her son Owen to take over the family business.
Wanted to get rid of the legitimate heir. Me.
I felt something hot and sharp twist in my chest.
I thought about Scarlett. My actual sister.
She came home six months ago. And what did I do?
I gave her the smallest guest room. The one that used to be for the help.
I let her wear hand-me-downs while Zelda got Chanel straight from Paris.
I stood there at that fucking party and watched Dad publicly disown her. Didn't say a word.
I tried to force her into marrying a crippled Santoro. For business.
And when she finally had enough and left? I used the cold shoulder. Made her feel like she'd abandoned us.
Meanwhile, Zelda was living like a princess in the room that should've been Scarlett's.
The memory hit me like a punch to the gut.
I'd asked Scarlett something. Just casual conversation. "You settling in okay?"
Nothing major. Just checking in.
The next morning, she'd brought me coffee. My exact order. Three sugars. No cream.
"Thanks for asking yesterday. About how I was doing. It meant a lot."
That was all it took.
One casual question. And she remembered. And she thanked me.
That's the difference between blood and lies. Between real family and whatever the fuck Zelda was.
My nails were digging into my palms. I looked down. Saw crescents of blood on my skin.
I forced my hands to relax. Took a slow breath. I couldn't lose control.
I made myself read the rest of the report. The investigator had been thorough.
Nausea rose in my throat.
I wanted to put bullets in both Miranda and Zelda. Wanted to watch them bleed out.
But I couldn't. Dad still controlled the family. Still made the final decisions.
And I didn't know which way he'd jump.
Would he choose his legitimate sons? The family business? His reputation?
Or would he choose his mistress? His bastard children?
I couldn't risk it. Couldn't make a move until I knew for sure.
If I went to war with Miranda and lost Dad's support, the whole family would fracture.
I walked back to my desk. Started feeding pages into the shredder.
When the last page was destroyed, I buzzed Marco.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Come back in."
He appeared in the doorway. His face was carefully neutral.
"This stays between us." My voice came out flat. Empty. "You tell no one. Especially not my father."
Marco nodded. "Understood."
"I mean it, Marco." I looked him dead in the eye. "No one. Not your wife. Not your priest. No one."
"I got it, boss. My lips are sealed."
"Capisce?"
"Capisce."
He left. The door closed again.
I sat there in the silence.
My phone buzzed. A text from Mom.
Come home early tonight. We're celebrating. Zelda has wonderful news!