Chapter 7 - The Price of Rosa
Rosa Moretti had spent forty-three years inside the family house.
She knew where every gun was hidden.
Every stair that creaked.
Every Moretti secret that had ever been whispered near a kitchen door.
If Victor Hale wanted information, Rosa was dangerous.
If he wanted leverage, she was priceless.
Salvatore stood over the map in the storage unit.
“When did she disappear?”
“Thirty-six minutes ago,” Carmine said.
“How?”
“Service exit. Camera feed looped.”
“Victor designed the system.”
“Yes.”
“Vehicle?”
“Black sedan. Plates stolen.”
“Traffic cameras?”
“Working it.”
Bianca stood nearby, distraught.
“This is because of me.”
Salvatore ignored her.
Guilt was useless until everyone came home alive.
Matteo stood near Elena’s wall.
“What does Victor want?”
“No.”
The boy frowned.
“No what?”
“You’re not involved in this part.”
“He wants me.”
“That’s exactly why.”
“He took Rosa after threatening me.”
“Matteo.”
“My mother told me people who take hostages don’t really want the hostage.”
Salvatore looked at him.
“They want somebody else to move.”
The room went silent.
Elena again.
Always Elena.
“What else did she teach you?”
Matteo shrugged.
“She watched crime shows.”
Carmine actually laughed.
It was brief, but needed.
Then Matteo pointed at Elena’s map.
“Maybe Rosa isn’t the move.”
Salvatore frowned.
“What?”
“He took her from the house.”
“Yes.”
“After you found this place.”
“Yes.”
“How would he know?”
Carmine looked around.
“Tracker.”
They searched the vehicles.
Nothing.
Phones.
Nothing.
Shoes.
Nothing.
Then Matteo took the hospital bracelet out of the metal box.
“This came from the bank.”
Salvatore stared.
The small plastic bracelet had been handled by Ms. Evers before the attack.
Carmine sliced it open.
A wafer-thin tracking transmitter fell onto the table.
“Victor knew we’d open the box.”
Salvatore’s face hardened.
“So the bank attack wasn’t meant to kill us.”
“It was meant to tag us.”
Matteo looked at Elena’s wall.
“He wanted this place.”
Salvatore understood immediately.
“What’s missing?”
They searched.
One drawer had been forced.
Inside were empty folders.
Carmine found an inventory list taped beneath the desk.
Three items listed.
Photographs.
Bank records.
Bellini audio cassette.
The cassette was gone.
“What was on it?” Bianca whispered.
Only one way to know.
Victor had it.
Salvatore’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered on speaker.
Victor Hale spoke calmly.
“I wondered how long Elena would lead you around by the hand.”
“Where’s Rosa?”
“Safe.”
“If you touch her—”
“You’ll kill me. Yes. You’ve always been wonderfully predictable.”
Bianca closed her eyes.
Victor continued.
“Ask Mother if she remembers singing to me.”
Salvatore looked at Bianca.
She stared back, horrified.
Victor laughed softly.
“She won’t. I was only two when your father took me away.”
Salvatore’s grip tightened on the phone.
“What do you want?”
“The key from Elena’s box.”
“What does it open?”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“Then Elena trusted the child more than she trusted you.”
Matteo looked at the brass key.
Salvatore covered it with his hand.
“Rosa first.”
“Bring the key to Pier 39 at midnight.”
“Proof she’s alive.”
A sound.
Then Rosa’s voice.
“Salvatore, don’t—”
A slap.
Salvatore’s entire body changed.
Victor came back.
“She remains unharmed if you arrive alone.”
“You know I won’t.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why I said it.”
The call ended.
Bianca sat down.
Carmine immediately began planning.
“Pier 39 gives us bad sight lines. Water on two sides. Warehouses behind.”
“He expects surveillance.”
“Of course.”
“We’ll give him some.”
“And the real team?”
“Underwater approach from the south.”
Matteo watched.
Salvatore noticed.
“You stay here with Bianca.”
“No.”
“Not negotiable.”
“Yes, it is.”
Salvatore turned slowly.
“No, Matteo. It isn’t.”
“Victor wants the key.”
“He’s not getting it.”
“He thinks I know something.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Then you’re staying.”
Matteo’s expression tightened.
“If Rosa gets hurt because—”
“Listen to me.”
Salvatore crouched.
“You are not responsible for what bad men choose to do.”
Matteo looked away.
“My mother used to say that.”
“Then believe her.”
“She didn’t.”
That hurt.
Salvatore softened.
“Maybe she wanted you to do better than she did.”
At midnight, rain returned.
Pier 39 sat abandoned except for one yellow light above a warehouse door.
Salvatore walked alone down the dock.
At least he looked alone.
Carmine had men positioned in boats.
Two snipers watched from rooftops.
Another team waited inside a fish-processing building.
Salvatore carried the brass key.
Not the original.
A copy.
Victor emerged from the warehouse.
No weapon visible.
“Little brother.”
Salvatore felt nothing hearing it.
“You don’t get to call me that.”
Victor smiled.
“You think Gabriel does?”
“Where’s Rosa?”
Victor snapped his fingers.
Two men brought her out.
Her hands were bound.
Blood at her lip.
Alive.
Salvatore’s gaze went cold.
“Release her.”
“The key.”
Salvatore held it up.
Victor stepped closer.
“You look like him.”
“Father?”
“Yes.”
“Funny. He hid you.”
Victor’s smile disappeared.
“He stole me.”
“From the Vescari?”
“From my mother.”
“And then?”
“He turned me into a servant in my own family.”
“You were his security chief.”
“I was his son.”
Victor’s voice cracked for the first time.
“And every morning I opened doors for the sons he claimed.”
Salvatore saw it then.
Not greed.
Not merely power.
A lifetime of humiliation fermented into hatred.
“You opened the Bellini gate.”
Victor smiled again.
“Elena saw.”
“Why kill our own men?”
“To weaken you.”
“And Gabriel?”
“Too curious.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“That was my mistake.”
Salvatore took one step forward.
“What does the key open?”
“The Black Ledger.”
“Where?”
Victor laughed.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t need your key.”
Behind Victor, Rosa shifted her weight.
Salvatore saw her eyes move.
Left.
Then up.
A signal.
Someone above.
Salvatore glanced without turning his head.
A shadow in the warehouse rafters.
Not one of his men.
Victor noticed the movement.
Too late.
A shot exploded.
Victor staggered.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
Chaos erupted.
Carmine’s team moved.
Victor’s men fired.
Salvatore rushed Rosa.
The hidden shooter fired again.
Not at Salvatore.
At Victor.
Victor dove behind a crate.
“WHO ARE YOU?”
A figure moved along the upper catwalk.
Salvatore glimpsed gray hair.
Then the man leapt down behind stacked containers and disappeared through a side exit.
Carmine shouted.
“Boss! Rosa!”
Salvatore cut Rosa’s hands free.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Who was that shooter?”
Rosa looked at the doorway.
Her eyes filled.
“I know that walk.”
Salvatore froze.
“What?”
“I watched him learn it after he broke his ankle at twelve.”
May you like
She grabbed Salvatore’s arm.
“That was Gabriel.”
