Chapter 2 - The Mother Everyone Trusted
“Tell him nothing.”
Patricia’s voice was low now.
Dangerously low.
Michael looked at her.
Then at Dante.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Dante asked.
Michael rubbed a hand over his face.
“About eight months ago, I noticed payments going out of Romano Foods that didn’t match vendor invoices.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Michael.”
“More than two million.”
Guests gasped.
Patricia laughed sharply.
“This is ridiculous.”
Michael continued.
“When I asked accounting about it, I was told they were executive distributions.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“I approve executive distributions.”
“I know.”
That answer changed the air.
Dante set Leo down beside his aunt Camille, who immediately lifted the toddler into her arms.
“Stay with him.”
Camille nodded.
Dante turned back.
“Who approved them?”
Michael looked at Patricia.
No one needed him to say the name.
Patricia raised her chin.
“Your father gave me authority in the company.”
“My father has been dead for three years.”
“And I helped build that company for thirty-five.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Patricia’s lips pressed together.
For most of Dante’s life, that look had ended arguments.
As a child, he feared it.
As a teenager, he obeyed it.
As an adult, he learned to ignore it.
But losing his father had changed something.
After Lorenzo Romano died, Patricia stepped back into Dante’s life with full force.
She arrived at the mansion every morning.
Changed household staff without asking.
Criticized Dante’s parenting.
Rearranged meetings.
Questioned every decision.
When Dante objected, Patricia always used the same weapon.
“Your father would be ashamed.”
Dante tolerated it because grief had exhausted him.
Then Leo was born.
Leo’s mother, Caroline, had died from a sudden postpartum cardiac complication eleven days later.
Dante had become a widowed father before he had even learned how to warm a bottle properly.
Patricia moved into the guest wing “temporarily.”
Temporary became eighteen months.
She chose Leo’s nanny.
Controlled his schedule.
Opened Dante’s mail.
Hosted family dinners in Dante’s house as though it were hers.
Whenever Dante pushed back, Patricia reminded everyone how much she was “helping.”
At the barbecue, Dante finally saw those years differently.
“You’ve been opening my mail.”
Patricia scoffed.
“I manage this household.”
“No. You live in it.”
Her face tightened.
Dante looked at the document.
“This notice was addressed to me.”
“You were busy.”
“So you hid it.”
“I handled it.”
“You forged my signature.”
Patricia’s anger flashed.
“I did what was necessary to protect this family.”
“From what?”
She didn’t answer.
Dante turned to Michael.
“You said there were other loans.”
Michael hesitated.
“The company warehouse.”
Dante went still.
“What about it?”
“There’s a lien.”
“How much?”
“Three-point-one million.”
Dante stared.
Michael continued quietly.
“And I think there’s something against the vineyard property too.”
Patricia suddenly grabbed Michael’s arm.
“You ungrateful little snake.”
Dante stepped between them.
“Touch him again and you’re leaving in handcuffs.”
Patricia’s eyes widened.
“You’re threatening your own mother?”
“I’m protecting my family.”
Patricia laughed bitterly.
“I am your family.”
Dante looked toward Leo.
The toddler was still crying quietly against Camille’s shoulder.
Then Dante looked back.
“You attacked my son.”
For the first time, Patricia had no answer.
But across the lawn, Dante’s older sister Vanessa slowly stood.
Her face was pale.
“Mom.”
Patricia looked at her.
Vanessa swallowed.
“What did you do with the money?”
Patricia’s expression changed.
Not fear.
Warning.
Dante saw it immediately.
And so did Vanessa.
“What?” Dante asked.
Vanessa shook her head too quickly.
“Nothing.”
“Vanessa.”
“I said nothing.”
Patricia stared at her daughter.
Vanessa looked away.
Dante suddenly understood something worse.
May you like
Patricia might have hidden the loans.
But she hadn’t hidden them from everyone.
