Chapter 6 - The Hidden Will
The family attorney arrived at the mansion before sunrise.
Nathaniel Crane was seventy-six, thin as a rail, and one of the few men alive who had known Vittorio Moretti before the Moretti name inspired fear.
He took one look at Leo and asked everyone except Salvatore to leave the library.
Leo refused.
"I'm staying."
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
Salvatore almost smiled.
"He's staying."
Nathaniel sighed.
"Very well."
He removed his glasses.
"Eight years ago, Vittorio contacted me about changing his estate."
Salvatore felt anger rise.
"You told me his will was final."
"It was."
"Then what are we discussing?"
"A separate trust."
Nathaniel opened his briefcase.
Vittorio had created something called the Moretti Continuity Trust.
It held properties, legitimate companies, voting interests, and accounts legally separated from the criminal organization.
Salvatore knew of the trust.
He believed he controlled it.
Nathaniel corrected him.
"You control it provisionally."
Salvatore stared.
"Explain."
"Vittorio wrote a bloodline clause."
Leo listened silently.
"If a direct biological grandson existed at the time of Vittorio's death, that grandson would become primary beneficiary upon confirmation of identity."
Salvatore's voice went flat.
"He knew about Leo."
"Apparently."
"Yet he drove Elena away."
Nathaniel nodded sadly.
"Your father was a complicated man."
"He was a monster."
Leo looked at Salvatore.
Nathaniel did not argue.
"The trust is worth approximately one hundred and eighty million dollars."
Leo blinked.
Salvatore barely reacted.
Money was not the problem.
Power was.
"Who becomes trustee?"
Nathaniel hesitated.
"Until Leo turns twenty-five, guardianship determines significant voting influence."
There it was.
Salvatore understood.
Whoever controlled Leo controlled the legitimate Moretti fortune.
"Who is listed as backup guardian?"
Nathaniel's silence answered before his words did.
"Domenico Russo."
Dominic cursed from the hallway.
Salvatore looked toward the door.
He had apparently been listening.
Nathaniel continued.
"Vittorio named Domenico years before his disappearance."
"Can he claim guardianship?"
"Not while you are alive and legally established as the father."
Salvatore looked at Leo.
"So he needs me dead."
"Or disqualified."
"How?"
Nathaniel looked uncomfortable.
"Your criminal history would help."
Salvatore laughed once.
Without humor.
The irony was brutal.
Everything he had built to make himself powerful could now be used to take his son away.
Nathaniel slid another document across the table.
"There is one more problem."
Salvatore read it.
A petition had already been filed in family court.
Someone claiming to represent Leo's interests alleged that Salvatore Moretti was violent, criminally involved, and unfit to have custody.
The hearing was in forty-eight hours.
Salvatore looked up.
"Who filed it?"
Nathaniel met his gaze.
"Domenico Russo."
Leo spoke quietly.
"He wants to take me?"
Salvatore turned to him.
"No."
"But the paper—"
"No."
Salvatore moved closer.
"No one is taking you anywhere."
Nathaniel cleared his throat.
"You cannot solve this with force."
Salvatore's stare almost made him retreat.
"I mean it. If Domenico disappears now, the court will assume the worst."
Salvatore knew he was right.
For perhaps the first time in his life, shooting the problem would make everything worse.
"What do we do?"
"We prove paternity. We demonstrate a safe home. We uncover why Domenico should not be trusted."
Salvatore looked toward the doors.
"Dominic."
The younger Russo entered.
"Find everything on your uncle."
"I've been trying for years."
"Try harder."
Dominic nodded.
Leo slid off the chair.
"I'm tired."
Salvatore immediately stood.
"I'll take you upstairs."
The boy hesitated.
"Can I sleep somewhere else?"
Salvatore stopped.
"What's wrong with the guest room?"
"The window broke."
Of course.
Salvatore felt stupid for not realizing.
"You can use any room you want."
Leo looked toward the staircase.
"What room is yours?"
Every adult froze slightly.
Salvatore answered.
"At the end of the west hall."
"Can I sleep there?"
Salvatore's throat tightened.
"Yes."
That night—or rather morning—Leo slept in the middle of Salvatore's enormous bed while Salvatore sat in a chair near the window.
He did not sleep.
At seven, Leo woke screaming.
Salvatore was beside him instantly.
"Leo."
The boy fought invisible hands.
"Don't!"
"Leo!"
His eyes opened.
For one second he stared without recognition.
Then he saw Salvatore.
His breathing slowed.
"Bad dream?"
Leo nodded.
"Want to tell me?"
"No."
Salvatore remained beside him.
After a minute Leo whispered, "My mom used to sit there."
"Where?"
"Next to the bed."
Salvatore sat.
"Like this?"
Leo nodded.
Salvatore had negotiated million-dollar deals.
He had ordered retaliations that reshaped entire neighborhoods.
He had once stared down three armed men with an empty pistol.
None of those things had made him feel as uncertain as sitting beside his own son.
"What did she do?"
"Nothing."
Leo rolled onto his side.
"She just stayed."
So Salvatore stayed.
Twenty minutes later the boy was asleep again.
Carmine found Salvatore in the hallway afterward.
"Boss."
"What?"
"We found Paolo."
Salvatore's face hardened.
"Alive?"
"Barely."
"Where?"
"Church parking lot in Queens."
They drove without Leo.
Paolo lay in a private clinic under guard.
Someone had shot him twice and left him to die.
When Salvatore entered, Paolo opened his eyes.
"You."
Salvatore stood beside the bed.
"You kidnapped my son."
Paolo coughed blood.
"I saved him."
Salvatore's hand tightened.
"Careful."
"Domenico ordered me to take him from your house before his men got there."
"You were in the van."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you bring him to me?"
"Because I didn't know who to trust."
Paolo's breathing became rough.
"Not even you."
Salvatore leaned closer.
"You have one minute before I forget you're dying."
Paolo laughed weakly.
"Your father was afraid of Leo."
"Why?"
"Not the money."
"Then what?"
Paolo looked toward the door.
"Vittorio didn't create the trust to give the boy an inheritance."
Salvatore frowned.
"He created it to hide evidence."
"What evidence?"
Paolo's hand moved shakily toward Salvatore's sleeve.
"Your father didn't die of a heart attack."
The room seemed to tilt.
Salvatore stared at him.
Paolo whispered, "He was murdered."
"By whom?"
Paolo's eyes widened.
A machine beside the bed began to beep faster.
He forced out two words.
"Your brother."
Salvatore went completely still.
"I don't have a brother."
Paolo smiled sadly.
"That's what Vittorio wanted you to believe."
The monitor screamed.
Doctors rushed inside.
Salvatore was pushed backward.
Paolo's body convulsed.
Then went still.
As nurses fought to restart his heart, Salvatore stood against the wall with only one thought in his mind.
A brother.
May you like
A hidden brother.
And somehow, an eight-year-old child was the key to finding him.
