Chapter 10 - The Other DucaThe Face That Shouldn't Exist
For several minutes nobody spoke.
The image remained burned into my mind.
A man standing behind the woman pretending to be my mother.
My face.
My height.
My eyes.
But older.
Sharper.
Different somehow.
Daniel looked at the frozen screen.
“I know him.”
I turned.
“Who?”
“The man from the documents.”
“What's his name?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Victor.”
“Victor what?”
“Victor Duca.”
The room went silent.
“My grandfather had another son.”
Marcus looked shocked.
“I've never heard that name.”
“Neither had I.”
Daniel pointed toward the screen.
“He's the one Adrian answers to.”
I stared at the man.
A secret son.
Another Duca.
And suddenly the family history began rearranging itself in my head.
My father.
My mother.
Adrian.
Elena.
Daniel.
And Victor.
Five people tied together by a secret no one had wanted me to discover.
But why had Victor waited twenty-three years?
Marcus enlarged the image.
The woman posing as my mother turned her head.
Victor leaned toward her.
They spoke.
The audio was poor.
But Marcus isolated the recording.
A sentence emerged.
“Tell him Daniel is not the heir.”
I felt a chill.
Victor continued,
“His brother is.”
I stared.
My brother.
Adrian.
Marcus shook his head.
“That makes no legal sense.”
Unless...
I remembered Elena's statement.
My grandfather had created a trust for Daniel.
But perhaps that trust wasn't the entire inheritance.
Perhaps there was a second layer.
I searched the family records.
Nothing.
Then Grace spoke.
“Your mother had another will.”
I looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Caleb found it.”
“Where?”
“He hid it.”
“Where?”
Grace pointed to Mia.
Mia immediately understood.
“The doll.”
She ran to a small backpack.
Inside was a fabric doll with one missing eye.
She pulled open the seam.
A small brass key fell out.
Marcus caught it.
“What does this open?”
Grace whispered,
“Harriet's jewelry box.”
I stared at her.
“My mother's jewelry box was never found.”
Grace shook her head.
“It wasn't supposed to be.”
We drove to my old family storage facility.
Inside a sealed crate sat a black wooden box.
The key fit.
The lid opened.
Inside were letters.
Photographs.
And a final will.
My mother's handwriting covered the first page.
My son,
I am writing this because I no longer trust your father.
My hands went cold.
The letter continued.
There are two boys.
Only one of them carries the Duca blood that will protect this family from destruction.
I frowned.
Adrian.
Me.
Which one?
Then the next line answered.
Duca's legal records contain one lie.
Huy Duca is not the name on the original birth certificate.
I stared.
The room spun.
I read it again.
Then again.
My name.
My entire identity.
A lie.
Marcus whispered,
“What does that mean?”
I kept reading.
Your father changed the record because the real child could not safely remain in Boston.
I was twelve when she wrote this.
I knew my parents had been secretive.
But this?
No.
Impossible.
The final paragraph was worse.
If Adrian finds out where the real heir is, he will kill him.
I looked up.
“Who is the real heir?”
Marcus turned pale.
The answer might be inside the next envelope.
My fingers shook as I opened it.
A photograph fell out.
A newborn baby.
A woman holding him.
Elena.
And standing beside her...
My mother.
On the back, three words.
THE ORIGINAL SON.
I turned the photograph over.
The baby's face was partially covered.
But one tiny detail was visible.
A birthmark.
Near the left ear.
I touched my own ear.
Nothing.
No birthmark.
Daniel saw my face.
“Mr. Duca?”
I whispered,
“Where is Adrian?”
Marcus looked at me.
“Probably in your house.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“He isn't there.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he wants me to think he is.”
I looked at the photograph.
“Find him.”
Marcus reached for his phone.
Too late.
A message arrived.
One sentence.
FROM ADRIAN.
You finally found out who you are.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
But you're still looking at the wrong brother.
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