Page 280 of Legacy
Like she always has.
A knock interrupts the quiet.
“Come in,” I call, my voice rougher than I expect.
Silvio steps in, his expression unreadable.
“Don,” he says, giving Adriana a small nod of respect. “There are some things I need to tell you.”
Adriana rises, but I catch her wrist.
“Stay,” I say. Not a request.
She looks at me, searching my face for a beat before she settles beside me, standing like a queen at her king’s side.
Silvio hesitates. “This may change things. Everything, in fact.”
“Then start talking.”
My fingers tighten around Adriana’s.
I’m not letting go. Not again.
Silvio’s eyes flick between us. He doesn’t sit. Doesn’t move closer.
He just says it.
“Marcello knew.”
The words drop like stones into water, and for a second, I can’t even process the ripple.
“What?”
“He knew you were the one who killed Vartan Sarkisian. He took the blame to protect you.” Silvio swallows.
My stomach drops, lungs forget how to work.
Silvio continues, his voice rough. “He was going to move Lucia back into the estate. To keep her safe. But… he was too late.”
I can’t speak.
My mind spins—fractured memories, blood, my father’s voice, my mother’s smile, the weight of everything I’ve done pressing down so hard I can’t breathe.
Adriana squeezes my hand.
I realize I’m crushing hers.
I loosen my grip. Barely.
“How did he know?” I rasp.
Silvio gives a soft, bitter laugh. “He always knew his sons.”
The silence stretches, taut as piano wire.
Then Silvio says the words that shift the air.
“I knew when he did.”
