Chapter 2 - THE WHISPER OF BETRAYAL
The silence in the dining room felt heavier than lead.
Twenty-six relatives sat frozen in their seats.
No one dared to breathe.
Gabriel stood at the head of the table.
His broad shoulders were rigid under his custom suit.
His jaw worked, a muscle ticking violently near his ear.
“Sit down, Gabriel,” Nonna Antonella said.
Her voice was dangerously calm.
It was the voice that had commanded respect in Chicago for five decades.
Gabriel remained standing.
“Grandmother, this is a private matter.”
“Everything in this house is my matter,” she replied.
She did not blink.
Her dark eyes pierced straight through him.
“Isabella made a claim. Now answer her question.”
I looked up at my husband.
Seven years of marriage flashed before my eyes.
Seven years of believing we were partners.
Seven years of enduring midnight phone calls and hushed whispers.
“Gabriel?” I asked. My voice shook.
“Tell me what she meant.”
He avoided my gaze.
He looked down at the untouched Sunday roast.
“It was just talk, Claire.”
“Talk about what?”
My heart hammered against my ribs.
My breath hitched in my throat.
Isabella stood near the doorway, her arms crossed.
She no longer looked embarrassed.
She looked triumphant.
“Tell her, Gabriel,” Isabella goaded.
“Tell her what you told me about the estate.”
Antonella slammed her palm against the mahogany table.
The silver cutlery rattled.
“Enough!”
The old woman rose slowly to her feet.
She leaned heavily on her silver-topped cane.
“Gabriel Moretti. Look at me.”
Gabriel obeyed.
He looked like a guilty boy caught stealing from a vault.
“Did you promise her this house?” Antonella demanded.
“Did you promise her my home after I am gone?”
The silence stretched, suffocating and absolute.
Gabriel swallowed hard.
“Grandmother... the business is expanding.”
“Answer the question!”
“Yes,” Gabriel finally whispered.
The word dropped like a stone into a deep well.
My chest collapsed.
He had promised her this house.
Our family home.
The house where I had cared for his aging grandmother.
The house where I had built my entire life.
“You traded my home,” I whispered.
Gabriel reached out toward me.
“Claire, let me explain.”
“Don't touch me.”
I stood up so fast my chair screeched against the hardwood floor.
My hands trembled violently.
“You planned to throw me out,” I said.
“You and your mistress planned my eviction.”
Isabella stepped forward.
“Be realistic, Claire. You don't fit into his future.”
I turned on her with a fury I never knew I possessed.
“Get out.”
Isabella scoffed.
“Gabriel told me to stay.”
“Gabriel doesn't own this house yet,” Antonella interjected sharply.
The old woman stepped around the table.
She walked with agonizing slowness.
She stopped right beside me.
She placed a wrinkled, warm hand on my arm.
“And by the grace of God,” Antonella muttered, “he never will.”
Gabriel paled.
“Grandmother, what do you mean?”
Antonella smiled coldly.
“You assumed the estate automatically falls to you, didn't you?”
Gabriel frowned.
“I am the eldest grandson. The sole heir.”
“You were the sole heir,” Antonella corrected.
“Past tense.”
Panic flared in Gabriel's eyes.
“What did you do?”
Antonella turned away from him, looking directly at me.
May you like
“Come with me, Claire. Tonight, you learn the truth about your husband.”
[CLIFFHANGER: As Antonella leads Claire toward the locked study upstairs, Gabriel draws a hidden firearm and whispers to his cousin that nobody will ever see the updated will.]
