Chapter 3 - The Dead Man in the Photograph
The note shook in my hands.
I read it again.
Do not trust anyone who tells you your father died from an accident.
My father had been a mechanic.
Not a criminal.
Not a powerful businessman.
Not anyone who belonged in a mansion full of armed guards and private doctors.
He fixed cars in a small garage outside Kingston. He taught Noah how to change oil. He taught me to drive in the back lot behind the diner where I later got my first job.
He died when a truck crossed the center line during a snowstorm.
That was all I had ever known.
But Lorenzo Romano looked at me like he had been holding this secret for years.
“Your father,” he whispered. “Daniel Carter.”
My knees weakened.
“You knew him?”
Lorenzo’s eyes closed briefly.
“Saved me.”
Dr. Pennington looked confused.
“Mr. Romano, you need to conserve your strength.”
But Lorenzo ignored him.
“Years ago. Miami.”
I stared at him.
My father had never mentioned Miami.
“He worked… on boats,” Lorenzo continued.
My father did work on boats once, before I was born. He told me it was a temporary job repairing engines along the coast.
I had never asked details.
“You were in Miami,” I said.
Lorenzo managed the smallest nod.
“Your father found… records.”
“What records?”
Lorenzo’s eyes opened.
His gaze moved toward the security cameras in the corners of the room.
Then toward the door.
“Dante.”
The name hit like ice.
“Dante knew my father?”
Lorenzo’s fingers curled against the sheets.
“Dante was there.”
A loud knock hit the door.
Everyone froze.
Then Dante walked in.
He looked exactly as he had before.
Controlled.
Elegant.
Unshaken.
But his eyes went immediately to the note in my hand.
“What is that?” he asked.
I folded it quickly.
“Nothing.”
Dante smiled.
“Mia, you should know that lying is dangerous in this house.”
Lorenzo made a rough sound.
Dante looked at him.
“Brother,” he said softly. “You are still recovering. You should not upset yourself.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
Even weakened, he looked ready to kill.
Dante turned back to me.
“Come with me.”
I did not move.
“No.”
His smile faded.
“This is not a request.”
Before anyone could react, Lorenzo’s monitor alarm began screaming.
His heart rate spiked.
Doctors rushed to the bed.
Lorenzo’s hand reached toward me.
“Mia,” he gasped.
May you like
Dante took one step closer.
Then every light in the room went out.
