Chapter 19 - The Last Test Before Nine
The federal investigation exploded across New York.
Officials resigned.
Two retired police commanders were arrested.
Several cases reopened.
News helicopters hovered near Moretti properties.
For the first time, Salvatore's name appeared in headlines without him controlling the story.
Yet inside the temporary safe house, Leo cared about only one thing.
"Can I have chocolate cake?"
Salvatore stared.
"That's your concern?"
"It's my birthday."
"In four days."
"I need to plan."
Salvatore looked toward Carmine.
"Do children plan cake four days early?"
Carmine shrugged.
"I plan whiskey months early."
"Useless."
Leo chose chocolate.
Then changed to vanilla.
Then chocolate with vanilla icing.
Then asked if a cake could have both.
Salvatore ordered three.
For forty-eight hours, life seemed almost ordinary.
Matteo recovered from surgery.
Dominic entered federal protective custody in exchange for testimony.
Rebecca survived and was charged with conspiracy, kidnapping, attempted murder, and Elena's poisoning.
Sophia remained with her foster family.
Daniel agreed to meet Matteo.
Privately.
No cameras.
No lawyers.
No inheritance discussion.
Matteo spent three hours choosing a shirt.
Salvatore mocked him mercilessly.
Then helped him choose.
Family had become strange.
On October eleventh, Nathaniel arrived with the trust documents.
"Tomorrow at 11:42 a.m., the transfer becomes irrevocable."
"To Leo."
"Through you as guardian."
Salvatore pushed the papers back.
"No."
Nathaniel frowned.
"What?"
"I don't want it."
"The trust controls nearly one hundred and eighty million dollars."
"It belongs to Leo."
"Legally, you would manage it."
"That's the problem."
Leo entered carrying a plate of cookies.
"What's the problem?"
Salvatore looked at him.
"The money."
Leo sat.
"I don't want it."
Nathaniel looked as if both father and son had lost their minds.
Salvatore almost smiled.
"What do you want?"
Leo thought.
"A dog."
Nathaniel closed his eyes.
"One hundred and eighty million dollars and he wants a dog."
"A big dog," Leo clarified.
Salvatore leaned back.
"What if we do something else with the trust?"
"Like what?"
Salvatore had been thinking about Elena.
The orphanage.
Sophia.
Daniel.
All the children Vittorio had treated like pieces on a board.
"What if most of it helped kids who don't have families?"
Leo stopped eating.
"Like St. Vincent's?"
"Yes."
"Can Sister Margaret decide some?"
"Yes."
Leo considered.
"Can we keep enough for a dog?"
Nathaniel coughed.
Salvatore laughed.
"Probably."
The plan was formed.
A foundation.
Housing for foster children aging out of the system.
Medical care.
Legal advocacy.
Education.
Emergency shelters.
The Moretti Continuity Trust would cease being an instrument of control.
It would become something Vittorio could never understand.
A way to give power away.
That night, Salvatore tucked Leo into bed.
It had become a routine.
One neither mentioned.
"Eight for one more night," Salvatore said.
Leo nodded.
"Mom used to say that."
"What?"
"She'd tell me, 'You're seven for one more night. Did you use it well?'"
Salvatore smiled faintly.
"Did you?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I got kidnapped too much."
Salvatore laughed.
Leo smiled.
Then grew serious.
"Will tomorrow change stuff?"
"No."
"The trust?"
"Paper changes."
"What about us?"
Salvatore sat beside him.
"No."
Leo looked relieved.
"Good."
At three seventeen in the morning, the alarm sounded.
Salvatore was awake before the second pulse.
Carmine entered.
"Perimeter breach."
Salvatore grabbed his pistol.
"Who?"
"One man."
"Dominic?"
"No."
They checked cameras.
An elderly figure stood outside the gate.
Bent.
Thin.
Using a cane.
Salvatore stared.
Impossible.
Carmine whispered, "Boss..."
The man lifted his face toward the camera.
Vittorio Moretti.
Alive.
Salvatore felt the room tilt.
"No."
Yet there he was.
Older than the images.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
Matteo, still recovering, came into the security room.
He saw the monitor.
His face drained.
"I killed him."
Apparently not.
Salvatore went outside.
Vittorio waited under the gate lights.
"You look surprised."
Salvatore aimed his gun.
"You should be dead."
Vittorio smiled.
"I often should have been."
Matteo came behind him.
"You were dead in my hands."
"No."
Vittorio looked at his first son.
"You were always too emotional to check properly."
Matteo's face twisted.
"You let us believe—"
"I needed freedom."
Salvatore hated the calmness.
"Why come back now?"
Vittorio looked toward the house.
"The boy turns nine."
"You're not going near him."
"He's my grandson."
"No."
Salvatore stepped forward.
"He's my son."
Vittorio smiled.
"Still sentimental."
Something inside Salvatore settled.
This was the man who caused everything.
Elena's exile.
Matteo's stolen childhood.
Gabriel's death.
Rebecca's lost child.
Dominic's obsession.
Leo's danger.
The easy ending would be a bullet.
The old Salvatore would already have fired.
Instead he lowered the gun.
Vittorio looked disappointed.
"You've become weak."
"No."
Salvatore smiled slightly.
"I've become something you never managed."
"What?"
"A father."
Police vehicles appeared behind the gate.
Federal agents stepped out.
Vittorio's expression finally changed.
Salvatore had called Mills before walking outside.
"You'd hand your own blood to the government?"
"You murdered Gabriel."
Vittorio's eyes narrowed.
"You erased children."
Silence.
"You built everything around fear."
Vittorio looked toward Matteo.
"Stop him."
Matteo laughed.
"You're asking the son you erased?"
Vittorio turned toward Carmine.
"Carmine."
The guard shook his head.
"Sir, with respect, I preferred you dead."
Agents approached.
Vittorio backed away.
For the first time, Salvatore saw fear on his father's face.
Not fear of prison.
Fear of irrelevance.
The empire no longer needed him.
His sons no longer feared him.
His grandson did not even know him.
As agents handcuffed Vittorio, a small voice came from behind Salvatore.
"Is that him?"
Leo.
Salvatore turned.
"I told you to stay inside."
"I heard yelling."
Vittorio looked at the boy.
Something almost hungry entered his expression.
"Leonardo."
Leo stepped behind Salvatore.
"Don't call me that."
Vittorio smiled.
"You carry my blood."
Leo looked at Salvatore.
Then back.
"So?"
Vittorio blinked.
Leo continued.
"Blood doesn't make you family."
Silence.
Salvatore felt his throat tighten.
Vittorio stared at the child whose existence had shaped nearly a decade of secret schemes.
And the child dismissed him with one word.
"So?"
Federal agents led Vittorio away.
At dawn, Leo stood beside Salvatore watching the cars disappear.
"Is it over?"
Salvatore looked toward the brightening sky.
This time he did not promise something impossible.
"I think we're finally allowed to start."
May you like
Leo leaned against him.
In six hours, he would turn nine.
