Chapter 6 - The PhotographSamuel Rourke looked like a man who had spent a year waiting to be murdered.
Instead, Isabella Moretti looked elegant, calm, and almost gentle.
That frightened Claire more.
She wore a cream-colored suit and no visible weapon.
Her dark hair had turned partly silver.
The emerald ring glowed under the restaurant lamp.
Dante remained between Claire and the table.
“You look well for a dead woman.”
Isabella’s smile faded.
“You look like your father.”
“Don’t.”
“Still angry.”
“Twelve years tends to do that.”
She gestured toward the chairs.
“Sit.”
Dante stayed standing.
Claire moved beside him.
“You wanted me here.”
Isabella studied her.
“So you’re Ethan Bennett’s sister.”
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
The question landed without warning.
Dante glanced at Claire.
Isabella looked almost impressed.
“No.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
“Did you order someone else to?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Isabella folded her hands.
“My son believes truth should be delivered cleanly.”
She looked at Dante.
“But your father taught you better. Truth usually arrives covered in someone else’s blood.”
“Stop talking in riddles.”
“All right.”
She turned toward Claire.
“Ethan Bennett discovered that Stefano Moretti and Aleksandr Volkov were moving weapons through Moretti Shipping.”
Dante’s gaze sharpened.
“Stefano.”
“My brother has always been ambitious.”
“You were working with him.”
“For a time.”
Dante laughed bitterly.
“So Claire heard correctly.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed access to his network.”
Claire frowned.
“You were investigating Stefano?”
Isabella nodded.
Dante looked skeptical.
“You expect me to believe you’re some undercover hero?”
“No.”
Isabella’s voice hardened.
“I have done things neither of you would forgive. I’m not asking you to.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“To survive what comes next.”
She placed a file on the table.
Dante did not touch it.
“What is that?”
“Evidence.”
“Against Stefano?”
“Against the person above him.”
Silence.
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Isabella looked toward Claire.
“Ethan did not die because he discovered Stefano’s smuggling.”
Claire stopped breathing.
“He died because he discovered who financed it.”
“Who?”
Isabella slid the file forward.
Dante opened it.
Bank records.
Trust accounts.
Property transfers.
Dozens of signatures.
Then a name.
Luca Moretti.
Dante stared.
“No.”
Claire looked at him.
Luca.
His younger brother.
The man who had stood beside him at funerals.
The man Dante had protected through school fights, scandals, business failures.
Isabella watched his face.
“You asked for truth.”
“My brother is careless. He’s spoiled. He’s not capable of organizing this.”
“That is precisely why nobody looked at him.”
Dante shook his head.
“You’re lying.”
“Then ask him about Halcyon Maritime.”
Dante looked down at the documents.
Luca’s signature appeared on authorization forms.
Hidden behind holding companies.
Millions routed through Volkov-controlled accounts.
Claire felt sick.
“Why Ethan?” she whispered.
Isabella looked at her.
“Because he photographed a meeting between Luca and Volkov.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“Where is the photo?”
“Missing.”
“My brother died for a photograph?”
“No.”
Isabella’s voice softened.
“He died because Luca panicked.”
Dante closed the file.
“I need proof stronger than signatures.”
“There is more.”
“Where?”
“Your sister has it.”
“Sofia.”
“Yes.”
Dante stared at her.
“Why is Sofia with you?”
“Because she discovered I was alive six months ago.”
Another betrayal.
Dante’s voice became dangerously calm.
“And she didn’t tell me.”
“I asked her not to.”
“You asked.”
“She agreed.”
“Why?”
“Because we didn’t know how deeply Luca had compromised your security.”
Claire watched Dante’s expression.
Every answer seemed to remove another piece of the world he knew.
He asked, “Where is Sofia?”
“Safe.”
“Take me to her.”
“No.”
Dante stepped closer.
Isabella did not move.
“You don’t give me orders anymore.”
“I never did.”
“You disappeared.”
“To keep you alive.”
“You sound like Father.”
“For once, he and I agreed.”
Dante’s laugh carried no humor.
“How touching.”
Claire touched his arm.
He looked at her.
That small contact steadied him.
Isabella noticed.
Something unreadable crossed her face.
“You care for her.”
Dante’s eyes became cold.
“That is none of your business.”
“It becomes my business when your enemies notice.”
Claire shifted.
“Can we focus on Ethan?”
Isabella nodded.
“Ethan left something behind.”
“What?”
“A locker key.”
Claire frowned.
“I never found one.”
“Because he didn’t leave it for you.”
Isabella looked at Dante.
“He left it for a man named Samuel Rourke.”
Dante knew the name.
Former Moretti accountant.
Retired five years ago.
“Rourke lives in Queens.”
“Not anymore.”
“Where?”
“Your brother moved him.”
Claire’s blood ran cold.
“Is he alive?”
“For now.”
Dante took the file.
“Where is he?”
Isabella gave him an address.
An abandoned textile warehouse in Brooklyn.
Dante immediately texted Marco.
Isabella stood.
“You were told to come alone.”
“I stopped following your instructions twelve years ago.”
Lights suddenly flashed through the restaurant windows.
Vehicles.
Many.
Isabella’s expression changed.
“You were followed.”
Dante drew his weapon.
“I wasn’t.”
Claire whispered, “Then they followed her.”
The front windows exploded inward.
Dante threw Claire to the floor.
Gunfire tore through the restaurant.
Tables shattered.
Glass rained across the room.
Dante fired toward the entrance.
Isabella overturned the table and pulled a pistol from beneath her jacket.
Claire stared.
“Of course you have a gun.”
Isabella fired twice.
“Family tradition.”
Dante shouted, “Back hallway!”
They moved through the kitchen.
A masked attacker appeared near the freezer.
Isabella fired first.
The man dropped.
Claire flinched but kept moving.
They reached the alley.
A black SUV skidded to a stop.
Marco opened the door.
“Get in!”
Dante pushed Claire inside.
Isabella stopped.
Dante turned.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t go with you.”
“Why?”
“Because Luca believes I’m dead.”
“He knows someone met us.”
“He doesn’t know who.”
“Come with us.”
For half a second, Isabella looked like a mother again.
“I am proud of the man you became.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“You don’t get to say that.”
Pain crossed her eyes.
Then she stepped backward.
“Save Claire.”
“Mother.”
“Save her, Dante.”
She disappeared into the alley.
Marco drove.
Claire looked through the rear window until Isabella vanished.
Dante sat silently beside her.
His hand was bleeding from broken glass.
Claire reached for it.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
She wrapped his hand with a napkin.
He watched her.
“You almost died again because of me.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“I almost died because your family apparently needs group therapy.”
Against all logic, Dante laughed.
A short sound.
Surprised.
Marco looked into the rearview mirror.
Claire stared at Dante.
“You laughed.”
“No.”
“You absolutely did.”
“Blood loss has damaged your hearing.”
“I knew it.”
For three seconds, the nightmare disappeared.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at Dante.
“We have Rourke.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Safe house.”
“And?”
Marco hesitated.
“He says he has the photograph Ethan took.”
Claire grabbed Dante’s arm.
Dante leaned forward.
“Does it show Luca?”
Marco looked at him.
“No.”
Dante went still.
“Then who?”
May you like
Marco’s answer changed everything again.
“Your father.”
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