Chapter 4 - The Anticipated Return
The following morning, the Philadelphia dawn broke through heavy, bruised clouds. Olivia was up before sunrise, scrubbing the marble floors of the grand foyer where the debris of yesterday's shattered engagement still seemed to linger. Celeste had been locked in the west wing guest suite under 24-hour surveillance, her designer gowns packed into suitcases awaiting a permanent exile.
At 8:00 AM sharp, a sleek black town car pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the estate.
Marco stood on the front porch, flanked by two security guards. Olivia watched from the parlor window as the heavy back door of the car opened. A tall, pale man stepped out into the crisp morning air. Daniel Bellini looked older, leaner, the harsh light of freedom catching the sharp angles of a face that bore a striking resemblance to Marco's. But his eyes carried the heavy weight of two years spent paying for someone else's sins.
The brothers stood ten feet apart. For a long, agonizing moment, neither man spoke. The wind rustled through the oak trees, carrying the scent of damp earth.
"You're late," Marco finally said, though his voice lacked its usual harshness.
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Daniel gave a tired, cynical smile. "Traffic coming out of federal custody is always a nightmare, brother."
Marco stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Instead of the blow Olivia expected, Marco grabbed his younger brother by the back of the neck and pulled him into a fierce, suffocating embrace—the kind only two men who had survived a war together could share.
