Chapter 12 - THE REFLECTION AT THE GATE
The night air was freezing as we walked down the marble steps toward the estate’s massive iron gates.
Luca walked slightly ahead of me, his hand resting on the grip of the gun tucked beneath his jacket. My father flanked my other side, leaning heavily on his cane, his breath puffing in white clouds.
On the other side of the wrought-iron bars stood a woman.
She wore a long, charcoal wool coat and leather gloves. She didn’t have any guards with her. She just stood there, perfectly still, watching us approach under the harsh glare of the security floodlights.
As we got closer, I felt a physical shock wave hit my chest.
It was me.
Or, a version of me. Her posture was stiffer, her jaw set tighter, but she had my mother’s eyes.
My father stopped walking. He gripped his cane with both hands, tears instantly welling in his eyes.
“Clara,” he whispered, speaking my mother’s name.
The woman’s eyes flicked to my father. For a fraction of a second, something flickered behind her cold exterior—a micro-expression of shock, or pain. But it was gone instantly, replaced by a mask of perfect indifference.
“Open the gate,” Luca ordered Marco.
The heavy iron doors buzzed and swung inward.
Chloe didn’t step onto the property. She remained on the exact property line.
“Luca Moretti,” Chloe said. Her voice was smooth, polished, and lacked any regional accent. “Dominic Falcone sends his regards. He heard about the unfortunate arrest of your fiancée. He believes this is a perfect time to renegotiate the territory borders.”
“I don’t negotiate with Dominic,” Luca said coldly. “And I don’t negotiate with messengers.”
Chloe smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’ll negotiate this time. Dominic knows about the weakness in your house.”
Her gaze shifted slowly from Luca to me.
She stared at me. I stared back. It was surreal. I felt an overwhelming urge to reach through the bars and pull her into a hug, but the ice in her eyes kept my feet planted.
“Hello, Emma,” she said softly.
“You know who I am,” I breathed.
“Of course I do,” Chloe said, tilting her head. “I’ve known I was a twin since I was twelve. I’ve been watching you for a very long time. Watching you play housekeeper. Watching you take care of a sick old man.”
My father let out a broken sob. “Chloe… I’m your father. I didn’t know. They told me you died.”
Chloe’s jaw tightened. She looked at him, and this time, the anger was palpable.
“You didn’t look very hard,” she said bitterly. “You took her,” she pointed at me, “and you hid. You got to have a father. You got to have a family. While I was raised by monsters who trained me to ruin people like him.” She gestured to Luca.
“Chloe, please,” I said, stepping forward. “We just found out tonight. The diary—Luca’s mother left a note—”
“I don’t care about notes,” Chloe snapped, her professional facade cracking for the first time. She reached into her coat pocket.
Marco immediately drew his weapon.
“Stand down, Marco,” Luca ordered, though he didn’t take his eyes off Chloe.
Chloe slowly pulled out a small, velvet box. She tossed it through the open gates.
It landed at my feet.
“Dominic gave me an order tonight,” Chloe said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He told me to come here, deliver his terms, and eliminate the gardener’s daughter to send a message.”
My father gasped.
I looked down at the velvet box, then back at my sister.
“But I’m not a monster,” Chloe said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Even if they tried to make me one.”
She looked at my father one last time, her expression softening just enough to break my heart.
“Dominic is coming for the estate, Luca,” she said quickly, stepping backward into the shadows. “He knows the Bellini alliance is dead. He’s attacking the ports tomorrow night. Be ready.”
“Chloe, wait!” I yelled, running to the gate.
But she was already turning away, slipping into the back of a waiting black sedan.
The car sped off into the darkness, leaving only the red glow of its taillights.
I fell to my knees on the cold asphalt and picked up the velvet box. My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a small, silver locket.
I pressed the clasp. It popped open.
Inside was a picture of my father, holding two tiny babies wrapped in pink blankets.
Luca knelt beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. My father stood over us, weeping silently as he stared at the locket.
“She didn’t come here to threaten us,” Luca realized, looking at the road where the car had vanished. “She came to warn us.”
I clutched the locket to my chest, looking up at Luca.
“She’s my sister,” I said fiercely. “She’s out there with them.”
Luca stood up, pulling me to my feet. His eyes were dark, burning with a new kind of fire.
“Not for long,” Luca said. He turned to Marco. “Call every man we have. Dominic Falcone wants a war? We’ll give him one. We’re getting her back.”
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I held my father’s hand, standing beside the man I loved, staring into the dark road ahead.
The secrets of the past were finally over. But the fight for our family had just begun.
