Chapter 10 - The war had never been about the Bellandi family.It had been about me.
My mother had sent me away because she needed me gone.
Then she staged the disappearances.
The false attacks.
The intercepted messages.
Every battle had pushed me farther from the estate.
Farther from Grace.
Farther from the truth.
“You sent me into the war to die.”
My mother nodded.
“You were becoming impossible to control.”
Grace stared at her.
“You tried to kill your own son.”
“He was my greatest mistake.”
The words hit harder than any bullet.
I raised my gun.
My father stepped between us.
“Luca.”
“Move.”
“She wants you angry.”
“I don't care.”
“Move.”
My father didn't.
My mother smiled.
“You see?”
She looked at him.
“You always protect him.”
Then a sniper round shattered the windshield.
Everyone ducked.
My father fell.
“Dad!”
Blood spread across his chest.
Grace screamed.
I dragged him behind the vehicle.
He was alive.
Barely.
“We need to go,” Adrian shouted.
Another shot hit the hood.
We fled through the mountain road.
The estate burned behind us.
By dawn, we reached a safe house.
My father lay unconscious.
Grace sat with the baby.
I stared through the window.
Everything I had believed about my family was gone.
Then Adrian placed a folder beside me.
“There's one more thing.”
I opened it.
Inside was DNA testing.
My name.
My father's name.
And another result.
The child.
I stared at the percentages.
“This says he's not…”
Adrian stopped me.
“Keep reading.”
I did.
The biological father was confirmed as me.
But another line caught my eye.
Maternal genetic anomaly detected.
Grace's eyes filled with fear.
“What does that mean?”
Adrian looked at her.
“It means the baby inherited the mutation resistance from your bloodline.”
Grace shook her head.
“My family has no connection to yours.”
Adrian looked at me.
“That's where you're wrong.”
He opened another document.
Grace's maiden name appeared.
Grace Vale.
Below it was a family history.
A name.
Isabella Ferraro.
My grandfather's sister.
My blood froze.
“Grace is related to us?”
Adrian nodded.
“Distantly.”
Grace stood.
“No.”
Adrian continued.
“That's why your mother wanted the marriage.”
I turned toward him.
“You're saying my mother arranged my marriage?”
“Years before you met Grace.”
Grace looked sick.
“I met Luca by coincidence.”
Adrian shook his head.
“You thought you did.”
She stared at him.
“I don't understand.”
He handed her a photograph.
It showed Grace as a little girl.
Standing beside my mother.
Grace's breathing stopped.
“I've never seen this.”
Adrian replied:
“She has.”
He pointed toward the woman in the photograph.
My mother.
Then toward a little girl.
Grace.
And beside them stood a younger version of my father.
Grace whispered:
“No…”
I looked at the picture again.
On the back was handwriting.
I recognized it.
My mother's.
THE GIRL WILL MARRY LUCA.
Underneath:
THEIR CHILD WILL RESTORE THE BLOODLINE.
Grace dropped the photograph.
“Your mother knew about us before we ever met.”
I couldn't speak.
Then the safe house phone rang.
Adrian answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
He listened.
Then hung up.
“What happened?”
He looked at me.
“Your father woke up.”
“That's good.”
“No.”
Adrian's eyes were dark.
“He escaped.”
“Escaped?”
“From the safe room.”
“How?”
He looked toward the security monitors.
Every camera was dead.
Then one screen flickered back on.
My father stood in the hallway.
May you like
Holding the baby.
And beside him was my mother.
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