Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Was Born a Costello
Chloe stared at Beatrice.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Gabriel finally broke the silence.
“Leo?”
Beatrice nodded.
Chloe laughed once.
It sounded wrong even to her.
“That’s impossible.”
Beatrice signed.
I saw the birthmark.
Chloe’s hands dropped.
“What birthmark?”
On his shoulder.
Small crescent.
Chloe stopped breathing.
Leo had one.
A dark crescent beneath his left shoulder blade.
He used to joke that it looked like a badly drawn moon.
Gabriel sat down.
Chloe looked at him.
He looked just as stunned as she felt.
“Leo was adopted?”
She whispered.
Beatrice signed.
Protected.
“My parents never told me.”
Margaret promised Isabella.
“Why would my parents keep that from me?”
Because knowing was dangerous.
Chloe turned away.
Everything suddenly felt unstable.
Leo’s childhood.
His adoption records.
His strange lack of baby photographs before nine months old.
Their mother always claiming the early photographs had been lost in a basement flood.
Chloe had never questioned it.
Why would she?
Leo had been her brother.
Blood did not matter.
But apparently blood had mattered to somebody.
Gabriel stood.
“If Leo was my cousin, that means Isabella may still be alive.”
Beatrice’s expression darkened.
Maybe.
Chloe rounded on him.
“That is what you care about?”
Gabriel blinked.
“My brother was murdered because of your family.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Chloe shoved the letter from Leo against his chest.
“You keep saying that.”
“Stop saying you know.”
“You didn’t sit beside him when he learned he would never hear music.”
“You didn’t spend nights translating teachers who refused to learn how to communicate with him.”
“You didn’t watch him pretend he wasn’t hurt when kids mocked the way he spoke.”
“You didn’t identify him after that crash.”
Gabriel’s face changed.
Chloe’s eyes burned.
“I did.”
She stepped closer.
“I was the one who walked into that hospital room.”
“I was the one who recognized his sneakers.”
“I was the one who called my mother.”
“I was the one who had to tell her that her son was never coming home.”
Gabriel did not interrupt.
“So don’t tell me you know.”
Her voice broke.
“You don’t.”
Gabriel nodded slowly.
“You’re right.”
That answer hurt more than an argument would have.
Chloe turned away.
Beatrice came to her.
She signed.
He was loved.
Chloe wiped her eyes.
“Yes.”
That matters.
“Yes.”
More than blood.
Chloe nodded.
“Always.”
By morning Gabriel’s investigators had confirmed enough to make denial impossible.
Leo’s original birth certificate had been sealed.
The attorney who handled the records had worked for a Costello-controlled foundation.
Margaret Bennett’s maiden name appeared in correspondence connected to Isabella Costello.
And DNA from Leo’s stored medical sample produced a family match to Gabriel.
Leo had been a Costello by blood.
A Bennett by every choice that mattered.
The discovery also answered one terrible question.
Dominic had not targeted Leo randomly.
Someone had recognized him.
Someone had known Isabella’s child had survived.
Gabriel called an emergency meeting.
Chloe sat beside Beatrice.
This time nobody told her she did not belong.
Gabriel placed photographs across the table.
“Dominic stole cargo.”
He pointed to Victor Sanz.
“Victor handled transport.”
Then to Marco.
“Marco handled communication.”
A fourth photograph showed a woman in a red coat entering a hotel.
Her face was hidden.
“This woman met them at least four times.”
Chloe frowned.
“Could that be Isabella?”
Beatrice shook her head.
Gabriel agreed.
“My aunt would be in her sixties now.”
“The woman in those images walks younger.”
“How young?”
“Forties, maybe.”
Chloe thought about what Beatrice had said.
“Isabella had only one child?”
Beatrice looked away.
Gabriel noticed.
“Ma.”
Beatrice signed.
One son.
“Leo.”
Beatrice nodded.
Chloe asked carefully.
“Did Isabella have siblings besides Gabriel’s father?”
Beatrice shook her head.
Gabriel leaned forward.
“What aren’t you telling us?”
Beatrice stared at him.
Then she signed.
Your father had another daughter.
Gabriel froze.
“With who?”
A woman in Sicily.
“Did you know her?”
No.
“Name?”
Sofia.
Gabriel looked at his attorney.
The man immediately started typing.
Chloe watched Beatrice.
“You think the woman in the red coat is Sofia?”
Beatrice nodded.
Gabriel’s face hardened.
“That would make her my half-sister.”
Chloe stared.
“And Leo’s aunt.”
“Yes.”
A security officer entered.
“Mr. Costello.”
Gabriel turned.
“We got a hit.”
“On Sofia?”
“No.”
The man placed a passport image on the screen.
“On Isabella.”
Beatrice stood.
Gabriel stared.
The photograph showed an elegant gray-haired woman arriving at Chicago Midway Airport three days earlier.
Chloe’s heart pounded.
“She’s alive.”
Gabriel said nothing.
The security officer continued.
“She traveled under the name Isabella Moreau.”
“Where is she now?”
“We don’t know.”
“Find her.”
Chloe suddenly noticed Beatrice signing.
Wait.
Gabriel looked at her.
“What?”
Chloe translated.
“She says wait.”
Beatrice signed again.
If Isabella wanted you to find her, you would.
Chloe looked at Gabriel.
“She thinks Isabella is hiding from you.”
“Why?”
Beatrice’s expression was sad.
Because she does not know who you became.
Gabriel looked away.
Chloe understood.
For nineteen years Isabella’s last memory of the Costello family had been Gabriel’s father trying to kill her.
Why would she trust his son?
Gabriel sank into a chair.
“How do I prove I’m not him?”
Beatrice signed.
Do something he would never do.
“What?”
She looked toward Chloe.
Tell the truth.
That afternoon Gabriel did something that shocked his lawyers.
He called a press conference.
Chloe refused to attend.
She watched from the townhouse television with Beatrice.
Gabriel stood in front of Costello Shipping headquarters.
Cameras flashed.
Reporters shouted.
Gabriel raised one hand.
The room quieted.
“Nineteen years ago, members of my family participated in criminal activity involving port contracts, falsified manifests, intimidation, and financial fraud.”
Chloe looked at Beatrice.
The older woman stared at the screen.
Gabriel continued.
“I recently learned that some of those activities never ended.”
“My companies were used.”
“My name protected people who did not deserve protection.”
“Whether I personally authorized their actions does not erase my responsibility to expose them.”
Reporters erupted.
Gabriel kept speaking.
“I have turned company records over to federal investigators.”
“I am suspending operations at three subsidiaries.”
“And I am asking anyone harmed by those operations to come forward.”
A reporter shouted.
“Mr. Costello, are you admitting your organization is involved with organized crime?”
Gabriel almost smiled.
“I think most of Chicago formed an opinion about that before this morning.”
Even Chloe laughed.
Then Gabriel’s expression became serious.
“One more thing.”
He looked directly into the cameras.
“If Isabella Costello is watching, I want her to know my mother is alive.”
Beatrice’s breath caught.
Gabriel continued.
“She misses you.”
“She never believed you betrayed this family.”
“And if you are afraid of me because of what my father did, you have every right to be.”
“I will not ask you to trust me.”
“I am asking for the opportunity to earn it.”
Beatrice began crying.
Chloe took her hand.
Gabriel lifted his own hand toward the cameras.
Then, clumsily but clearly, he signed.
I am listening now.
Beatrice covered her mouth.
Chloe squeezed her fingers.
The press conference ended.
Three hours later a package arrived.
No return address.
Security scanned it before opening.
Inside was a red scarf.
A photograph.
And a note.
The photograph showed Leo as a baby.
He was sleeping in the arms of a young dark-haired woman.
Isabella.
Behind the photograph was a handwritten message.
Gabriel.
Your mother was always braver than the rest of us.
If she says you can be trusted, I will consider believing her.
But Sofia knows Chloe is with you.
She does not want your money.
She does not want your companies.
She wants the one thing our father denied her.
The Costello name.
And she believes Chloe is the last obstacle.
Gabriel looked up from the note.
Chloe frowned.
“Why me?”
Beatrice read the letter.
Then she signed.
Because Leo is dead.
Gabriel understood before Chloe did.
His face went cold.
“If Leo was Isabella’s son…”
Chloe finished.
“Then his next of kin matters.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Especially if my father changed inheritance documents.”
Chloe laughed in disbelief.
“I’m not Leo’s biological sister.”
“No.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“But legally you are.”
His attorney stepped forward.
“And according to Illinois probate law, depending on how certain trusts were structured, Chloe may have inherited Leo’s claim.”
Chloe stared.
“What claim?”
The attorney hesitated.
Gabriel answered.
“Half of the Costello family holdings.”
Chloe’s mouth fell open.
“No.”
Gabriel nodded grimly.
“And if Sofia wants control, you just became the most important person in Chicago she needs removed.”
At that exact moment every phone in the room vibrated.
A security alert.
Gabriel opened his.
The color drained from his face.
“What?”
Chloe asked.
He turned the phone toward her.
A photograph had been sent from an unknown number.
It showed Patrick Doyle’s daughter outside an elementary school.
Beside her stood a woman in a red coat.
May you like
The message beneath it contained only one sentence.
BRING CHLOE TO IL CANTO TONIGHT OR THE NEXT CHILD PAYS FOR LEO.
