Chapter 4 - The Half-Sister
The world spun out of focus, leaving only the terrified face of the woman clutching the baby.
Mia?
My half-sister?
I stared at her, then at my father, who was suddenly thrashing against his restraints, his bruised face contorted in panic.
“No! Leave them out of this, Caruso! You promised!” he screamed, his voice cracking.
Nico turned to him, his expression completely blank.
“I promised to protect your legitimate family, James. I made no such guarantees about your secret one.”
I felt like I was suffocating.
Twenty-one years.
Twenty-one years I thought I was an only child, the sole heir to the Hart empire, the only target of my father's cold, calculating expectations.
And all this time, there was Mia.
“Who is she?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “Who is she really, Nico?”
Nico gestured for his men to bring Mia closer.
She was trembling violently, clutching the baby—a little boy with a shock of dark hair—to her chest.
“Mia Hart,” Nico supplied helpfully. “Or rather, Mia Rossi. Your father has been very busy over the years, Evelyn. Maintaining two families requires a lot of... creative accounting.”
My father squeezed his eyes shut, defeated.
“She doesn't know anything,” he pleaded. “She’s innocent. Let her go.”
“Innocent?” Nico scoffed. “Her mother was my family’s bookkeeper, James. The one who supposedly died in that tragic car accident five years ago. The one who, funnily enough, transferred five million dollars to an offshore account right before she died.”
Nico leaned in close to my father.
“Did you really think I wouldn't find out? Did you really think you could use my money to fund your secret life?”
The betrayal hit me like a physical blow.
My father hadn’t sold me to the mob to save his business.
He had sold me to pay off the debt he incurred stealing from them to support his other daughter.
“Let them go,” I said, surprised by the strength in my own voice.
Nico raised an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Let Mia and the baby go. They have nothing to do with this.”
“They have everything to do with this,” Nico countered. “They are leverage.”
“Leverage for what?”
“For the rest of the money, Evelyn. James didn't just steal five million. He stole twenty.”
Nico turned to me, his cold eyes finally showing a flicker of genuine anger.
“And you, my dear wife, are going to help me get it back.”
“How?” I spat. “I don't have twenty million dollars.”
“No,” Nico smiled, a chilling, humorless expression. “But you have the access codes to the offshore accounts. Your father transferred them to your name yesterday morning.”
I stared at him, stunned.
Before I could process this, Mia suddenly screamed, dropping the baby’s blanket.
It wasn't a blanket.
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It was a duffel bag.
And it was packed tight with bricks of C4 explosive.
