Chapter 11 - The Boy in the Van
Matteo woke on a concrete floor.
His wrists were bound.
A yellow bulb hung overhead.
The room smelled of oil, wet wood and river water.
He did not cry.
His mother had taught him crying was useful only when someone kind could hear.
Nobody kind was nearby.
Victor sat across from him.
Shoulder still bandaged.
“You look like him.”
Matteo said nothing.
“Gabriel.”
Still nothing.
Victor leaned forward.
“You know he’s your father now.”
Matteo looked away.
“That hurts, doesn’t it?”
“You shot an old woman.”
Victor’s expression tightened.
“She betrayed me.”
“You killed her.”
“She made her choice.”
“So did you.”
For a moment, Victor looked almost amused.
“Elena taught you to talk like that?”
“She taught me not to trust men who explain why hurting people is necessary.”
The amusement disappeared.
Victor stood.
“You know what your mother did?”
Matteo said nothing.
“She helped Gabriel steal from me.”
“No.”
“She hid the ledger.”
“No.”
“She destroyed my life.”
“You already had one.”
Victor turned.
“What?”
“You had a house.”
Matteo looked around the warehouse.
“Money. People who worked for you. A family who let you live with them.”
Victor stared.
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know what having nothing looks like.”
That landed.
Matteo continued.
“You had things.”
“I wanted my name.”
“You had one.”
“Not mine.”
Matteo shrugged.
“My mother changed our name four times.”
Victor slapped the table beside him.
“ENOUGH.”
Matteo flinched but did not look away.
Victor breathed heavily.
Then calmed.
“You’re going to help me.”
“No.”
“I haven’t told you how.”
“No.”
Victor smiled.
“Gabriel will come for you.”
Matteo’s chest hurt.
“He doesn’t know me.”
“He will come because of guilt.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No. But it works.”
Outside the room, a door opened.
Victor’s men were preparing.
Weapons.
Vehicles.
An ambush.
Matteo listened carefully.
Three men downstairs.
One at the river entrance.
Victor.
Maybe more.
He moved his wrists.
The rope was nylon.
Tight.
But the metal chair beside him had a broken edge.
His mother had taught him one more thing.
Never waste time wishing someone would rescue you if there was anything left you could do yourself.
Across the city, Salvatore was tearing through every contact he had.
Traffic cameras.
Police informants.
Port workers.
Toll data.
Gabriel stood in the study looking like a man being punished by every year he had missed at once.
“You should have told me,” Salvatore said.
“I didn’t know.”
“You knew you and Elena—”
Gabriel looked sharply at him.
“We had one night.”
“One?”
“One.”
“And she disappeared weeks later.”
“I thought because Victor discovered her helping me.”
“You never considered pregnancy?”
“Elena told me she couldn’t have children.”
Salvatore stopped.
“She told you that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Bianca, seated nearby, whispered, “To make sure you stayed gone.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“She knew if you believed there was a child, you would come back.”
Salvatore understood.
“And Victor would follow.”
Gabriel covered his face.
For seventeen years he had lived with strategy.
Now the strategy had a face.
Eight years old.
Wet shoes.
Calm eyes.
Carmine rushed in.
“We found the van.”
“Where?”
“Abandoned near Red Hook.”
“Cameras?”
“One vehicle left the area fifteen minutes later. Box truck registered to a defunct shipping company.”
Gabriel looked up.
“What company?”
“Harbor North Logistics.”
Gabriel went still.
“I know it.”
Salvatore turned.
“Where?”
“Old Vescari warehouse on the East River.”
They moved.
No sirens.
No police.
Victor had too many connections left to trust public systems.
The warehouse appeared abandoned.
Salvatore knew better.
Carmine positioned teams.
Gabriel insisted on going inside.
“This is my fault.”
“No,” Salvatore said.
“He’s my son.”
“And that makes you useful to Victor.”
“It also makes me the one who goes first.”
Salvatore stared at his brother.
Then handed him a gun.
“Don’t die again.”
Gabriel nodded.
Inside, Matteo had nearly cut through the rope.
Victor’s phone rang.
“Ready?”
A man answered through speaker.
“They’re approaching from the north.”
Victor smiled.
“Of course they are.”
Matteo understood.
Victor knew.
There was a traitor feeding him their movements.
Who?
Carmine?
No.
Bianca?
Possible.
One of the guards?
More likely.
Victor walked toward the door.
“You stay here.”
Matteo continued sawing the rope once he left.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
The fibers snapped.
He freed himself.
The door was locked.
Window too small.
Vent.
Again.
He climbed onto the chair and removed the grate.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Matteo crawled.
Below, Victor’s men moved toward the north loading doors.
The south side was nearly empty.
Matteo reached a vent over the main floor.
He saw Gabriel enter below.
For the first time, he looked properly at his father.
The same eyes.
Different face.
A man who had not known he existed.
Matteo did not know what to feel.
Then he saw something else.
A red laser dot moved across Gabriel’s chest.
Sniper.
Matteo shouted.
“DOWN!”
Gabriel dropped.
A shot shattered the wall.
Salvatore fired toward the catwalk.
Carmine’s men stormed the floor.
Victor grabbed Matteo from behind as he climbed out of the vent.
A gun pressed against the boy’s neck.
Everything stopped.
Victor dragged him toward the river doors.
“BACK OFF!”
Gabriel lowered his weapon.
“Take me.”
Victor laughed.
“You?”
“I’m the one you wanted dead.”
“You’re old news.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“He’s your blood.”
Victor’s face twisted.
“So was I.”
“Exactly.”
That stopped him.
Gabriel slowly put his gun down.
“You know what it feels like to be the child nobody claimed.”
Victor’s eyes flickered.
“Don’t.”
“You spent your whole life punishing us for what Father did to you.”
“Shut up.”
“And now you’re doing it to another boy.”
Victor’s hand trembled.
Matteo felt it.
Gabriel stepped closer.
“You can still stop.”
Victor’s jaw clenched.
“No.”
He shoved Matteo away and raised the gun toward Gabriel.
Matteo struck Victor’s wounded shoulder.
Victor screamed.
Salvatore fired.
The bullet struck Victor’s hand.
His gun flew.
Gabriel grabbed Matteo.
Carmine tackled Victor.
Within seconds, it was over.
Almost.
One of Victor’s men tried to flee.
Salvatore recognized him.
Dario.
The young guard from the front gate.
The man who had watched Matteo arrive.
The traitor inside the house.
Carmine looked stunned.
“Dario?”
Dario raised his weapon.
A shot fired.
He fell.
Victor had picked up a second gun with his left hand.
Dario died before he could speak.
Victor smiled through pain.
“No witnesses.”
Salvatore looked at him.
“Why kill your own man?”
“Because you still don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
Victor laughed.
“I’m not the only one who wanted the boy.”
Gabriel tightened his arms around Matteo.
Victor looked straight at him.
“Elena wasn’t poisoned because of the ledger.”
“Then why?” Gabriel demanded.
May you like
Victor smiled.
“Because of what Matteo remembers.”
