Chapter 3 - Sins of the Fathers
The atmosphere inside the private medical wing of St. Jude’s Hospital was suffocatingly tense. The hospital, owned entirely through shell companies controlled by the Vale syndicate, had been cleared of non-essential personnel within twenty minutes of Dominic's arrival.
Dominic stood outside the pediatric intensive care suite, his pristine white shirt stained with dirt and rain, staring through the glass wall. Inside, the smaller twin, Leo, was hooked up to IV drips and a oxygen monitor. The doctor had diagnosed severe pneumonia brought on by malnutrition and prolonged exposure to extreme cold. In the adjoining room, the older twin, Ethan, was fast asleep under heavy blankets after eating three full meals provided by the hospital kitchen.
Claire sat on the edge of Leo’s bed, holding her son's small hand against her cheek, weeping silently.
Behind Dominic, the floor-to-ceiling glass reflected the imposing figure of his right-hand man, Marco, who had just arrived with a thick leather dossier.
"Boss," Marco murmured quietly. "We ran the background checks you requested. Every paper trail, every bank statement from five years ago."
Dominic didn't turn around. "Tell me."
"It was your father, old man Vale, and Anthony Bellini," Marco revealed, his voice laced with grim resignation. "Five years ago, when you were in New York negotiating the initial treaty, your father had Claire kidnapped. They forged the transfer receipts for the five million dollars to make it look like she took a payout. Then your father's men dropped her in a homeless shelter in Detroit with nothing but the clothes on her back and told her if she ever returned to Chicago or contacted you, they would execute you both."
Dominic’s knuckles turned white against the glass partition. "And the man they said she ran away with?"
"A fabricated identity," Marco answered. "She was completely alone, Boss. She found out she was pregnant two weeks after she was dumped in Detroit. She worked three jobs until the boys were born, but when the boys got sick last year, she moved back to the outer fringes of Chicago because the free clinics here were better. She's been living in an abandoned basement in Englewood, selling scrap metal just to buy formula and pay rent."
A terrifying silence fell over the hallway. Dominic's breath was slow, deliberate, and icy cold. Five years of bitterness, five years of drinking himself to sleep, five years of accepting a loveless marriage with Vanessa Bellini—all built on a masterfully orchestrated lie designed by his own late father and the Bellini family to secure an alliance.
The door to the room opened, and Claire stepped out into the quiet corridor. She looked exhausted, her eyes red and swollen, but her posture remained guarded.
"He's resting," she said quietly. "The doctor said the antibiotics are working. He's going to be okay."
Dominic turned to her, his expression a mixture of profound agony and restrained rage. "Claire..."
"Don't," she said, raising a hand. "Don't look at me like that, Dominic. Don't act like you care now. You built your high fortress while we starved in the gutters."
"I didn't know, Claire," Dominic choked out, taking a small step forward. "On my life, on my soul... I believed you left me. My father showed me bank transfers. He showed me photos—"
"And you believed him!" Claire screamed softly, tears streaming down her face. "You knew what kind of monster your father was! You knew what he was capable of, yet you believed I would sell what we had for money? I loved you, Dominic! I would have died for you! But you let them destroy us!"
"I am going to fix this," Dominic swore, his gray eyes burning with an unholy vengeance. "I swear to you, Claire, on the lives of our sons, everyone who touched you, everyone who put you in that street tonight, will pay."
"I don't want your revenge!" Claire cried, grasping his bloodied, mud-stained sleeve. "I don't want your money, and I don't want your war! I just want my boys to be safe! Look at yourself, Dominic. You're still the head of a syndicate. Your world will only destroy them!"
Before Dominic could answer, the elevator doors at the end of the hall opened with a chime.
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Vanessa Bellini walked out, flanked by four armed Bellini family enforcers. Her eyes were sharp with malice, her white Chanel coat replaced with a dark tailored suit.
"How touching," Vanessa sneered, stepping down the hallway. "The mafia king dropping to his knees for a rat and her bastards."
