Page 86 of Bit's Bliss

Once he went upstairs and we heard the door close, my father looked up. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice strained and barely above a whisper. “Both of you.”

“Is it safe to talk?” my uncle asked, also in a low tone of voice.

My father smiled as much as sneered. “Based on everything I’ve said, every name I’ve called Burke, I doubt I’d still be alive if they were listening in.”

“Dad, what happened?”

He lowered his head again, and I could see he was crying.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

He raised his head again and looked from me to Uncle Michael. “We need to.”

“Okay,” I whispered, waiting for him to begin.

“You’d been dating Burke for a few months when he and I met up in the winery. I thought it was random, but now I realize nothing was with him. Not even meeting you.” He brushed his face on his shoulder and took a deep breath. “From that day on, he carefully pieced together the plan that landed us in this room.”

“He forced you to sell the winery?” my uncle asked.

“At first, I thought he was trying to help me save it. You know, for Eberly. He was aware enough to know that we were in trouble, like so many of us were after the pandemic and subsequent saturation of the market. I told him too much that day.”

“Is that when he suggested selling to the consortium?” I asked.

“He offered it as one option, but given the other choices, that made the most sense. When I told him I needed to discuss it with you first, that was the day my life descended into hell.”

I listened as he struggled to tell me how Tiernan had threatened my life if my dad didn’t go along with his demands.

“By that point, you were engaged, and as much as I wanted to come clean, I couldn’t. Burke made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that if I did…” He cried openly so hard that his body shook. “He’s not who he says he is,” he was finally able to say. “He’s connected to organized crime, one of the most powerful criminal enterprises in the world.”

“The Irish mob?” Uncle Michael asked.

“Yes, and Burke is not his real name, although he hasn’t let on what it is.”

“That’s the reason you didn’t involve law enforcement,” my uncle added.

“I couldn’t risk it.”

“Understood.”

My dad turned to me. “After forging your signature on the winery sale, he forced me to mortgage the house. Nancy works for him, along with the goons who abducted the two of you.”

“Earlier today, she testified that I signed the paperwork.”

“Burke used her to keep me in line when he wasn’t around to do it himself.”

“He said you were the one to call off the wedding.”

“I was—in a way. All along, he believed that, by marrying you, he’d be able to get his hands on your trust fund. When I told him he wouldn’t through marriage, that it was stated within the terms of the fiduciary fund and that it was irrevocable, he went along with ending the engagement.”

“Why did he give up so easily?”

“I thought the same thing, but quickly realized he hadn’t.”

“Is that the day you left?”

“It was. He intended to kidnap you, Eberly, and demand the full amount of the trust as ransom. Once he had the money, I knew he’d kill us both. I decided to strike first.” He broke down again. “I failed.”

“He figured out I was the trustee,” Uncle Michael said more than asked.