Chapter 7 - Brother Against BrotherDante refused to bring Claire.
He was sixty-seven, thin, gray-haired, and nervous enough to flinch whenever a door opened.
Dante brought Claire into the safe house shortly before dawn.
Rourke saw her and immediately stood.
“You’re Ethan’s sister.”
Claire stopped.
“You knew him?”
“He saved my life.”
She stared.
“How?”
Rourke looked toward Dante.
“I think everyone should sit.”
Nobody did.
Rourke sighed.
“Ethan came to me because he found irregularities in shipping accounts. At first, I assumed accounting errors.”
“What kind of irregularities?” Dante asked.
“Containers disappearing from manifests. Customs inspections being rerouted. Payments made through Halcyon Maritime.”
“And my father?”
Rourke looked uncomfortable.
“He authorized Halcyon years ago.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“For what?”
“Off-book operations.”
Claire frowned.
“Criminal ones?”
Rourke looked at Dante.
Dante answered.
“Yes.”
He never lied to her about what the Moretti family had been.
That mattered.
Rourke continued.
“Vittorio created Halcyon to keep certain transactions away from the legitimate company. But five years ago, control shifted.”
“To Luca?” Dante asked.
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Stefano.”
Dante frowned.
“But the photograph?”
Rourke reached into a lockbox.
Inside was a small memory card.
He inserted it into a laptop.
An image appeared.
Ethan had photographed three men meeting near Pier Seventeen.
Stefano.
Aleksandr Volkov.
Vittorio Moretti.
Claire’s breath caught.
Dante stared at his father’s face.
“What was he doing there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Were you there?”
“No.”
“What did Ethan say?”
“That Vittorio saw him.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“My brother knew.”
Rourke nodded.
“He was terrified.”
“Then why didn’t he go to police?”
“Because he didn’t know who to trust.”
Dante looked at the photograph.
Neither did he.
Rourke continued.
“Two days later Ethan died.”
Claire turned away.
Dante watched her shoulders shake.
He wanted to touch her.
He hesitated.
Then placed his hand on her back.
She leaned into him.
It was the first time she allowed herself to cry in front of him.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
She cried like someone who had carried grief alone for eleven months and finally found the room to put it down.
Dante held her.
Rourke looked away.
When Claire could speak again, she asked, “Did Vittorio kill him?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you think so.”
“I think whoever killed Ethan had access to warehouse safety systems. The forklift malfunction was created deliberately.”
Dante turned.
“How?”
“Someone disabled two sensors.”
“Who had authorization?”
Rourke opened another file.
Five names.
Stefano.
Luca.
Vittorio.
A warehouse supervisor.
And Dante.
Claire looked at him.
Dante did not flinch.
“I wasn’t there.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Claire wiped her face.
“The day Ethan died, you were giving a speech in Chicago.”
Dante stared.
“You checked.”
“I investigated everyone.”
“Including me.”
“Especially you.”
Rourke almost smiled.
Dante looked offended.
“Glad I passed.”
“Barely.”
Then Marco entered.
“We found Adrian.”
“Where?”
“Airport motel in Newark.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Bring him.”
Two hours later, Dante’s cousin sat handcuffed in the safe house dining room.
Adrian Moretti looked exhausted.
“I didn’t attack Claire.”
Dante stood across from him.
“Your company owned the SUV.”
“I know.”
“That’s a difficult coincidence.”
“I created those companies for Luca.”
Dante froze.
“Why?”
“He told me they were for investments he didn’t want Dad questioning.”
“And you didn’t ask?”
“He paid me.”
Adrian looked ashamed.
“Jesus, Dante, I thought he was hiding gambling debt or women. Luca has always been reckless.”
Claire stepped closer.
“Did you know Ethan Bennett?”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He came to me.”
“When?”
“Three days before he died.”
Dante stared.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because he accused Luca.”
Claire’s hands tightened.
“What did Ethan say?”
“He said Luca was paying someone named Volkov.”
Dante walked closer.
“And?”
“I confronted Luca.”
Adrian looked down.
“He laughed. Said Ethan was confused.”
“And you believed him.”
“I wanted to.”
Claire’s voice sharpened.
“My brother died because everyone in this family wanted to believe something convenient.”
Adrian looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your apology.”
He lowered his eyes.
Dante asked, “Why did you run?”
“Because Luca called me after Claire was attacked.”
The room went silent.
“What did he say?”
“That everything had gone wrong.”
Dante’s expression became stone.
“What exactly?”
Adrian swallowed.
“He said, ‘She was supposed to disappear, not make it to a hospital.’”
Claire went pale.
Dante’s entire body went still.
Marco quietly moved closer, recognizing danger.
Dante asked, “And you did nothing?”
“I panicked.”
“You knew he tried to kill her.”
“I didn’t know what to do.”
Dante grabbed Adrian by the shirt and pulled him from the chair.
“You call me.”
“I thought you’d kill me too!”
“Maybe you should have worried less about yourself.”
Claire touched Dante’s arm.
“Dante.”
He released Adrian.
Barely.
“Where is Luca?”
“I don’t know.”
Dante stepped back.
Then his phone rang.
Luca.
Everyone stared.
Dante answered.
“Where are you?”
His brother laughed softly.
“You sound angry.”
“You tried to kill Claire.”
“You believe Adrian?”
“He confessed.”
“Adrian would confess to starting World War II if you scared him enough.”
Dante walked toward the window.
“Where are you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why? So you can choose a waitress over your brother again?”
Claire heard the words from several feet away.
Dante’s expression changed.
“This isn’t about Claire.”
“It became about her the second you locked us outside that hospital room.”
“You attacked her before I did that.”
Silence.
A mistake.
Tiny.
But enough.
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“You did order it.”
Luca sighed.
“You were always smarter.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Dante’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“Did you kill Ethan?”
“No.”
“Do not lie to me.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Then who did?”
Luca paused.
“Dad.”
Dante stared at the floor.
“Why?”
“Ethan saw something he shouldn’t.”
“What?”
“That photograph.”
“Dad was working with Volkov?”
“Ask him.”
“Where are you?”
Luca laughed.
“You’ll see me soon.”
The call disconnected.
Marco traced it.
“Burner phone. Manhattan.”
Dante called his father.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then the safe house television turned on automatically.
Every screen in the building changed.
Security feed.
Moretti estate.
Vittorio sat in his study.
A man stood behind him holding a gun.
Luca.
Claire whispered, “Oh my God.”
On-screen, Luca looked directly into the camera.
“Dante.”
He smiled.
“I know you’re watching.”
Vittorio’s face was bruised.
Luca continued.
“Bring the flash drive Claire stole.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“And bring Claire.”
Claire stared at the screen.
May you like
“If you don’t,” Luca said, “you’ll lose another parent.”
The feed went black.
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