18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
A ntonio
My hands drummed on the table as my right knee bounced restlessly beneath it. I felt antsy, a gnawing sensation coiling tighter with every passing minute.
“ What are you even doing here? ” The question echoed in my head, almost loud enough to drown out my pulse. For all I knew, ‘she ’—my so-called ‘ mother ’—would arrive armed with some ludicrous demands or fabricated stories. The urge to leave clawed at me, but another thought countered, “ Don’t you want to know the truth?”
Rumors that the winery was built on blood swirled through my mind. This time, they whispered that it was the very reason Elon disappeared. ‘ Elon ’. My friend, gone without a trace, leaving behind only a cryptic note: ‘I’m sorry’!
A surge of anger and unresolved questions fueled my determination to wait. One hour had passed, and Eve still hadn’t shown. I’d been warned—she always arrived late, relishing the control it gave her. Her sick idea of a power play.
Finally, the click of heels on the restaurant’s polished tiles drew my gaze upward. There she was—Eve. She glided into the room with a mask of feigned sophistication and the unmistakable glint of pride. Her designer bag, probably worth more than some people’s cars, landed on the table as she sat down leisurely.
She locked eyes with me and then waved a hand dismissively, summoning a waiter.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, my voice sharp.
“Who comes to a restaurant and doesn’t eat?” she retorted, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance.
“Do you think I have all day to watch you eat?” My frustration seeped through.
“But you waited an hour for me.” She didn’t even glance up from the menu.
I clenched my jaw. As much as I loathed to admit it, she was right. If I wanted answers, I had to endure her games. She ordered a full meal, not caring whether I’d join her or not, and indulged in every course. Typical Eve—someone else always footed the bill.
“Why didn’t you show up at the vineyard the other day?” I finally asked, trying to keep my composure. “You made me wait endlessly. And don’t give me that tired excuse about ‘other business.’ We both know your only business is wrecking lives.”
Her lips curled in a faint smile. “Oh, that… I had a manicure appointment and forgot to reschedule with you.”
The urge to snap back was almost overwhelming, but I swallowed the retort. Getting upset would only play into her hands. “Can we just get to the reason why we’re here?”
“Patience, young man. Haven’t you heard it’s a virtue?”
I scoffed. “I doubt the word ‘virtue’ even exists in your vocabulary, ‘Mother’.”
“Careful, or I’ll leave,” she warned, her gaze piercing.
Silence stretched between us, taut and brittle. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she set her fork down and leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous.
“Alright. Let’s get to it.” Her voice turned businesslike. “You want to know why I said the company was birthed in blood?”
I didn’t respond, just held her gaze, urging her to continue.
“Your beloved father bribed his way out of jail after killing his closest friend and business partner, Don. It was over a disagreement about ownership rights to a drink they co-discovered.”
A chill ran through me as memories of Don from my childhood flooded back. “You’re lying,” I managed, my voice thick. “Dad didn’t kill Uncle Don. He was his best friend.”
Eve’s smile widened, almost pitying. “Haven’t you ever wondered why your friend, Elon, disappeared without a goodbye? Just a note saying, ‘I’m sorry.’”
“How did you know about the note?”
“Your father only permitted the note—no explanations. He threatened Elon’s family, and they fled to Alaska to protect his life. Somewhere far away, where they wouldn’t be a threat to George and the winery. I had to step in and… facilitate things.”
My mind reeled. Alaska? Where Elon met Kendra…
Before I could respond, Eve snapped her fingers. A man in black approached, placing a large envelope in her left hand before striding away silently. He looked like a poor imitation of a “man in black” with that earpiece, standing out ridiculously in the blazing sun.
“Here.” Eve slammed the envelope onto the table. “Proof. All the evidence you need to confirm that your father built his empire off the blood of another.”
Hands trembling, I tore open the envelope and rifled through its contents. Photographs. Legal documents. Bank transactions. My stomach churned as damning evidence stared back at me.
***
I burst into my father’s office, with my stepmother trailing behind me.
“Explain this!” I threw the documents onto his desk, my voice raw with pain.
He glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Antonio, what’s going on?”
“How could you live like nothing happened after killing your best friend?”
He froze, the color draining from his face.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb! Elon’s disappearance. The bribes. The threats. All of it!” My voice cracked under the strain.
“Calm down, son.” His tone remained even, though his gaze flicked to my stepmother. “I’m guessing you finally met with your mother.”
“Don’t call me that!” I shouted. “All this time, you acted like a saint, and now… what? What’s left of the truth?”
Father took a deep breath, his expression hardening. “Most of what’s in here is misinformation. I gave the lawyers and detectives money, yes. But it wasn't what you think.”
“Liar!”
“I didn’t kill Don.” His voice was calm, yet I saw the storm behind his eyes. “And I never threatened Elon. Everything I did was to protect our family.”
“And to protect your company!”
He turned away, tossing the papers into his shredder. The machine whirred, swallowing the damning evidence whole.
“Forget about this, Antonio. For your own sake. Leave it be.” End of discussion.
This man was as tight lipped as a clamp. He never said anything he didn't want to. While it was good for business, it wasn’t what I needed at that point. He didn't deny most facts, especially the money and Elon's movement but he didn't move further. Claiming to protect the family when the evidence available was against him, just seemed like an excuse.
I stared at him, heart pounding. His silence was more damning than any confession. Without another word, I turned and stormed out, my stepmother’s triumphant gaze searing into my back.
As soon as I slid into the car, I slammed the door shut and turned the ignition. The low hum of the engine did nothing to drown out my turmoil, so I let out a raw, desperate scream.
Was everything I knew a lie? Had my entire life been built on falsehoods? And how was Elon tangled up in all this? A chaotic swirl of questions churned inside me. I needed to think—no, I needed to breathe.
Gripping the steering wheel, I pulled out and drove aimlessly through town, winding through familiar streets in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of clarity. After an hour, the ache in my chest eased just enough to let in a sliver of calm. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
I headed back to the apartment—my supposed sanctuary—but the thought of facing its empty silence made my throat tighten. Instead, I found myself veering toward Kendra’s place. It was past 7 p.m., so I knew she’d be home. I needed to see her—to feel the grounding warmth of her presence, the comfort of her arms around me.
I rapped a few impatient knocks on the door, then, remembering the doorbell, jabbed at it. My heart pounded as the seconds stretched. Finally, the door creaked open, and Kendra’s familiar smile peeked around the frame. Her expression shifted immediately when she caught sight of my face.
“What happened?” she asked softly, concern etching her brow as she stepped aside to let me in. The door clicked shut behind us, and she reached up, her hand brushing tenderly against my cheek.
I closed my eyes, leaning into her touch, savoring the brief moment of peace it brought. When I finally opened them, I saw the worry swimming in hers. I knew I’d promised to take things slow, but right now, I needed more than a comforting touch.
Without a word, I pulled her closer, before she could say anything, I cupped her face and captured her lips in a searing kiss.
I needed to feel something real.
***
I woke up the next morning to a text from my father. It was simple, it was straight to the point –
“Come home. It is time you know the truth.”