The little girl arrived at the iron gates of Bellweather Manor during the worst rainstorm Hudson County had seen all autumn.

The movement was so fast Marco didn't even have time to raise his hands.

Luca slammed his uncle against the paneled wall of the hallway with enough force to make the brass picture lights rattle above them. His fingers dug deep into the soft tissue beneath Marco’s jaw, lifting the older man until his heels barely brushed the Persian runner.

“Her middle name is Grace,” Luca said into Marco’s ear, his voice a flat, dead whisper. “Her mother’s middle name was Grace. And if you raise your voice within fifty yards of her room again, Marco, I will take you down to the salt marshes behind the turnpike and bury you up to your chin before the tide turns.”

“Luca!” Vanessa screamed from the bottom of the stairs, rushing up three steps before Collins blocked her path with his broad, immovable frame. “Dominic, stop him! He’s out of his mind! He’s going to kill him!”

Dominic stepped out of the nursery, closing the door behind him until only an inch remained open, keeping Mila shielded from the violence in the hall.

“Luca,” Dominic said softly.

Luca didn't release his grip. He felt Marco’s pulse hammering like a trapped bird beneath his fingers. Marco’s eyes bulged, his hands clutching weakly at Luca’s wrists, gasping for air that wouldn't come.

“Put him down,” Dominic ordered. “Not because he doesn't deserve it, but because we do not butcher our own inside the house where our children sleep.”

Luca stared into Marco’s terrified eyes for three more seconds. Then, with a look of profound disgust, he released him.

Marco collapsed against the wainscoting, coughing violently, dragging air into his lungs, clutching his bruised throat with both hands.

“Get your things,” Dominic told Marco.

Marco looked up, wheezing. “What?”

“Take Vanessa. Take Sophie. Leave the estate before the sun comes up.”

Vanessa reached the top of the stairs, her face pale, her expensive silk blouse rumpled. “Dominic! You can't cast us out! We are your family! Marco built the transport arm from nothing!”

“Marco stole from his nephew,” Dominic said, stepping toward them until both backed away toward the staircase landing. “Marco used family funds to threaten a destitute woman and an unborn child. Marco brought shame upon this house that twenty years of confession could not cleanse.”

Dominic turned his gaze upon Vanessa. “You knew. You knew when she left. You were the one who suggested Marco check the carriage house safe that morning.”

Vanessa’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

“The trust is dissolved,” Dominic announced. His voice was final, carrying the absolute authority of a monarch handing down an irreversible decree. “The maritime seats will be placed under Luca’s sole authority at six o’clock this morning. Sophie will receive her university tuition from an independent account, provided she never enters Hudson County without Luca’s written permission. As for you two...”

Dominic paused, his eyes narrowing into cold slits.

“You have a house in Florida. It is registered under a shell corporation. Go there. If I see either of you north of the Delaware River before I am in the ground, Collins will not use the telephone. He will use the backhoe.”

“Dominic, please—” Marco croaked, his voice ruined by Luca’s grip.

“Go,” the Don said.

Marco dragged himself up by the bannister. He looked at Luca with a hatred so deep and venomous it seemed to distort the air between them, but beneath the hatred was a cold, sniveling terror. He knew his brother. He knew Dominic never spoke an idle sentence.

Without another word, Marco stumbled down the grand staircase, followed by Vanessa, whose high heels clicked in frantic, uneven rhythms against the marble below.

Down in the foyer, the heavy oak front doors opened, admitted a gust of wet, cold wind, and then slammed shut with a boom that resonated through the floorboards of the entire mansion.

Silence returned.

Luca stood in the empty corridor, his chest heaving, his hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline that had nowhere left to go.

Dominic walked over to him, resting a heavy hand upon Luca’s shoulder. For a long time, neither man spoke.

“You should have looked for her,” Dominic said quietly.

The words pierced Luca deeper than any bullet ever could.

“I know,” Luca whispered.

“You let your pride build a wall between your heart and the truth,” Dominic continued, his voice heavy with ancient regrets of his own. “Marco played you because he knew you would rather believe she was mercenary than believe she didn't want you. That is the Moretti curse, Luca. We think everyone has a price because we have paid so many.”

Dominic turned toward the nursery door.