Chapter 8 - The Man Elena Feared More Than Dominic
Salvatore had expected Dominic.
He had not expected his father.
Vittorio Moretti was supposed to be dead.
Salvatore had stood at his grave five years earlier.
He had watched the coffin lowered.
Unlike Elena’s, that coffin had contained a body.
At least everyone believed it had.
Now Carmine’s drone camera showed an eighty-year-old man walking through the Red Hook warehouse with a cane.
Salvatore stared at the screen inside the unmarked SUV.
“No.”
Vincent looked over his shoulder.
His face collapsed.
“Father?”
Carmine said nothing.
Salvatore replayed the footage.
Same posture.
Same scar above the right eyebrow.
Same slight drag in the left leg from a bullet wound suffered before Salvatore was born.
Vittorio Moretti.
Founder of the modern Moretti empire.
Dead patriarch.
Alive monster.
“How?” Salvatore whispered.
Vincent looked sick.
“Dominic.”
Of course.
The fake funeral.
Closed coffin.
Private burial.
Dominic had arranged their father’s death just as he had arranged Elena’s.
Only one had been meant as protection.
The other had been camouflage.
Salvatore’s phone rang.
Vittorio.
He answered.
“Hello, son.”
Salvatore’s chest tightened.
“You should be dead.”
“I’ve been told that.”
“Where is Gabriel?”
“With me.”
Salvatore’s hand gripped the phone.
“If you hurt him—”
“Still making threats before understanding the situation. You always had too much fire.”
“You stole my child.”
“No. Dominic stole your child. I merely corrected his incompetence.”
Salvatore looked at Carmine.
Trace running.
“Why?”
“Because Elena took something from me.”
“The ledgers?”
Vittorio chuckled.
“Those ledgers could send half of New York to prison. I don’t care about prison.”
“What do you care about?”
“The key.”
Salvatore remembered Gabriel’s pendant.
“What key?”
“Ask your son.”
The line went dead.
Inside the warehouse, Gabriel stood beside Mrs. Alvarez.
Vittorio approached.
Up close he looked almost kind.
That frightened Gabriel most.
Men who shouted showed you where the danger was.
Men who smiled hid it.
“You have Elena’s eyes,” Vittorio said.
Gabriel remained silent.
“Did she tell you who I am?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That you hurt people and call it business.”
Vittorio smiled.
“She always had a dramatic streak.”
Mrs. Alvarez spat toward his shoes.
“You murdered women.”
Vittorio did not look at her.
“Your mother stole a brass key from my desk thirteen years ago.”
Gabriel said nothing.
“That key opens a private deposit vault in Geneva.”
Mrs. Alvarez laughed weakly.
“That’s what you think?”
Vittorio finally looked at her.
“What did Elena tell you?”
“Enough to know you’re going to die disappointed.”
Vittorio struck her with the cane.
Gabriel lunged.
Peppermint caught him.
“Don’t touch her!”
Vittorio looked amused.
“There he is. Moretti blood.”
“I’m not like you.”
“You’re exactly like us.”
“No.”
“Your father kills men.”
Gabriel’s face tightened.
“Your mother knew that.”
“She said he had darkness.”
Vittorio smiled.
“And yet she loved him.”
“She said darkness isn’t the same as evil.”
The smile vanished.
For a child, it was the most dangerous sentence he could have chosen.
Outside, Salvatore moved through stacked containers with Carmine and two men.
Vincent stayed in the vehicle to coordinate cameras.
Then his voice came through the earpiece.
“Sal.”
“What?”
“Police scanners just lit up.”
“For us?”
“No. Bomb threat at Pier 19.”
Salvatore understood.
Dominic was creating chaos elsewhere.
Or directing law enforcement away.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Vincent hesitated.
“There are thermal signatures on the warehouse roof.”
“How many?”
“Six.”
Salvatore stopped.
Snipers.
Vittorio knew he was coming.
“Back route?”
Carmine pointed toward an old storm channel.
“Maybe.”
They moved.
Inside, Vittorio checked his watch.
“Your father has always been predictable.”
Gabriel stared at him.
“He’ll come.”
“Yes.”
“He’ll save us.”
Vittorio leaned closer.
“Your father couldn’t save your mother.”
Gabriel’s eyes burned.
“That wasn’t because he didn’t love her.”
For the first time, Vittorio showed irritation.
“He chose power.”
“No.”
“You’re eight. What do you know?”
Gabriel lifted his chin.
“I know she wrote him letters every birthday.”
Vittorio froze.
Gabriel saw it.
“She kept copies.”
“What letters?”
“She said she sent them.”
Mrs. Alvarez closed her eyes.
Vittorio’s face hardened.
“Elena never contacted Salvatore.”
“She did.”
“No.”
“Every year.”
Vittorio turned toward one of his men.
“Find Dominic.”
Nobody moved fast enough.
“Now!”
Gabriel understood.
His mother’s letters had never reached Salvatore.
Someone intercepted them.
Someone close enough to control the family mail, staff, and security.
Dominic.
Vittorio had believed Elena silent.
Salvatore had believed Elena dead.
And Dominic had manipulated both.
A gunshot cracked outside.
Then another.
Lights shattered.
Darkness swallowed the warehouse.
Carmine’s voice roared somewhere beyond the crates.
“DOWN!”
Gabriel dropped.
Mrs. Alvarez screamed.
Men fired blindly.
Salvatore entered through smoke.
For one second, Gabriel saw him beneath emergency lights.
His father.
Gun raised.
Face wild.
Coming toward him.
Then Vittorio grabbed Gabriel from behind and pressed a pistol against the boy’s head.
Everything stopped.
Salvatore’s gun pointed directly at his father.
Vittorio smiled.
“Welcome home, son.”
Salvatore looked at Gabriel.
The child was trying not to cry.
“Let him go.”
“Bring me the key.”
“I don’t have it.”
“He does.”
Salvatore’s eyes moved to Gabriel.
Vittorio tightened his grip.
“Tell your father where Elena hid it.”
Gabriel’s lips trembled.
He looked at Salvatore.
May you like
Then he said the last thing anyone expected.
“I swallowed it.”
