Chapter 11 — The Third Heir
The tunnel was barely wide enough for two people.
My mother pulled me forward through the darkness while Liam followed close behind.
Somewhere above us, gunshots echoed through the farmhouse.
Then came shouting.
Alessandro.
Marco.
Gabriel.
I turned.
“I can't leave them.”
My mother tightened her grip.
“If you go back, Stefano gets exactly what he wants.”
“But Alessandro—”
“He can protect himself.”
“You don't know him.”
My mother stopped.
Her eyes met mine.
“I know his father.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“No.”
Her expression softened.
“You're right.”
For the first time, I saw something almost like regret in her eyes.
“I don't know the man Alessandro became.”
“Then why do you hate him?”
“Because I spent twenty-five years believing his family destroyed everything I loved.”
I swallowed.
“Did they?”
She looked away.
“I don't know anymore.”
We continued through the tunnel.
After several minutes, we reached a metal door.
My mother entered a code.
The door opened.
A small underground room appeared.
Medical supplies.
Water.
Blankets.
A radio.
Food.
It was clearly designed to survive weeks underground.
Liam stared.
“You've been preparing for this.”
My mother nodded.
“For years.”
I turned toward her.
“Why?”
“Because I knew eventually they would find you.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
She sat down.
Her hands were trembling.
I had never seen my mother afraid.
Not even in my childhood memories.
Now she looked exhausted.
“Your father made me promise never to return.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew the truth would put you in danger.”
“What truth?”
She looked at me.
“You weren't supposed to be the third heir.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Your grandfather never intended to give you part of the Vitali empire.”
“Then why did he?”
“He didn't.”
My mother leaned forward.
“Your father changed the trust.”
“Why?”
“Because he discovered something about the original succession.”
“What?”
She hesitated.
Then said:
“Marco isn't the first heir.”
I remembered Alessandro saying the same thing.
“Who is?”
She looked at me.
“You.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“You were born before Marco.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It does if the records were changed.”
She opened an old folder.
Inside were original birth records.
My birth date.
My mother's signature.
And a second document.
A handwritten statement from my grandfather.
Elizabeth is the first legitimate heir.
I stared at it.
“Why would he write that?”
“Because he knew you were his granddaughter.”
“I thought I was your daughter.”
“You are.”
“Then why would I be the heir?”
She closed her eyes.
“Because your father wasn't the only man who loved me.”
I felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
“My father.”
I stared.
“My grandfather?”
She nodded.
“Your biological grandfather was a Vitali.”
I couldn't speak.
“My father was Alessandro's grandfather.”
The room seemed to disappear.
My mother continued.
“I was his daughter.”
“So I'm…”
“A Vitali.”
The word echoed in my head.
My entire life had been built around hiding that name.
And it had been mine all along.
Liam sat beside me.
I couldn't look at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Stefano would have killed you.”
“Would he?”
“He already tried.”
“When?”
“The night you were born.”
I looked up.
“What?”
My mother began crying silently.
“Stefano ordered the hospital to destroy your birth record.”
“But why?”
“Because your grandfather had changed the succession.”
She looked at me.
“You were the first legitimate child born after the family succession agreement.”
I shook my head.
“Then Marco?”
“Marco was born to another branch.”
“And Gabriel?”
“Also.”
I stared.
“So why did everyone believe Marco was the heir?”
“Because Stefano changed the records.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted the entire empire.”
The room went silent.
Then the radio crackled.
A man's voice came through.
“Elizabeth.”
I froze.
Alessandro.
I rushed toward it.
“Alessandro?”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“I don't know.”
My mother took the radio.
“Alessandro.”
Silence.
Then:
“Isabella.”
My mother closed her eyes.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Still in the farmhouse.”
My mother looked at me.
“Leave.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because Marco is injured.”
My mother's face changed.
“How badly?”
“Bad.”
She stood.
“I'll come back.”
“No.”
“Alessandro—”
“Stay with Elizabeth.”
His voice became firm.
“I can get Marco out.”
My mother looked at me.
Then back at the radio.
“You sound like your father.”
A pause.
“Maybe that's not an insult.”
My mother almost smiled.
Then the radio went silent.
I looked at her.
“You care about him.”
She shook her head.
“I care about you.”
“That wasn't my question.”
She didn't answer.
A loud metallic sound came from the tunnel.
Someone was opening the door.
My mother grabbed a weapon.
Liam stood.
“Who is it?”
No answer.
Then the door opened.
Alessandro appeared.
Blood covered his sleeve.
But he was standing.
My heart jumped.
“Alessandro.”
He looked at me.
Then immediately at my mother.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Finally he said:
“I thought you were dead.”
My mother lowered the weapon.
“I thought your family wanted me dead.”
“They did.”
“Did?”
Alessandro nodded.
“Not anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because Stefano betrayed them.”
My mother stared.
“And you?”
“I never knew what he was doing.”
She looked at him.
“Do you believe that?”
“Yes.”
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Alessandro looked at me.
“Marco is alive.”
I exhaled.
“What about Gabriel?”
“Alive.”
“And Stefano?”
“Gone.”
My mother whispered:
“He won't stop.”
“No,” Alessandro said.
“He won't.”
Then he pulled a small object from his pocket.
A ring.
I recognized it.
My father's.
“How did you get that?”
“Stefano dropped it.”
My mother stared at the ring.
Then her face went white.
“That's not Stefano's.”
Alessandro frowned.
“What?”
She pointed at the inscription inside.
“Your father's initials.”
He turned the ring.
There were three letters.
V.H.
I stared.
“Victor Harper.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
She whispered:
“That isn't your father's name.”
I felt my blood run cold.
“What are you saying?”
She looked at me.
“Your father was never Daniel Harper.”
Silence.
Alessandro's face changed.
“Who was he?”
My mother looked toward the tunnel entrance.
“His real name was Victor Vitali.”
I stopped breathing.
Alessandro stared at me.
“Your father was my uncle.”
The man everyone thought had died decades ago.
The man who supposedly betrayed Marco.
The man who had supposedly helped Stefano.
My father.
May you like
Was a Vitali.
And suddenly every lie became possible.
