Chapter 8 - WHAT REMAINS AFTER POWERThree weeks later, Dante Moretti sat in a federal courthouse and testified against his own organization.
She sat in a metal chair with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
Elena sat beside her.
Their hands were tied in front.
“You okay, baby?”
Rosie nodded bravely.
“Mama?”
“Yes?”
“Is that old man Daddy’s uncle?”
Elena glanced toward Vittorio.
He stood near the warehouse door speaking to two armed men.
“Yes.”
“I don’t like him.”
“Neither do I.”
“Can I tell him?”
“Maybe later.”
Rosie leaned closer.
“He has scary eyebrows too.”
Despite everything, Elena nearly laughed.
Dante’s daughter.
Absolutely.
Vittorio turned.
“You two seem comfortable.”
Elena stared at him.
“We’re wonderful. Thank you for kidnapping us.”
“You always did have a mouth.”
“And you always were a coward.”
His expression sharpened.
One of the guards stepped forward.
Vittorio raised a hand.
“No.”
He approached Elena.
“You caused a remarkable amount of trouble.”
“I lived.”
“That was the trouble.”
Rosie moved closer to her mother.
Elena looked down.
“It’s okay.”
Vittorio studied the child.
“So this is the famous heir.”
“She’s five.”
“In our family, age has never protected anyone.”
Elena’s blood chilled.
“You stay away from her.”
“I have no interest in hurting the girl.”
“You had men shoot at her.”
“I had men eliminate a liability.”
Rosie frowned.
“What’s liability?”
Elena answered before Vittorio could.
“A word mean people use when they’re afraid.”
Vittorio smiled.
“You’ve raised her well.”
“Yes.”
“No thanks to Dante.”
Elena’s eyes hardened.
“That was your doing.”
“And yours.”
“You threatened my family.”
“You chose to believe me.”
The sentence landed painfully because it contained a fragment of truth.
Vittorio saw it.
He leaned closer.
“You could have called Dante anyway.”
“You said you’d kill my aunt.”
“Perhaps.”
“You had a dead bird put in my bed.”
“Effective, wasn’t it?”
Elena stared at him.
For five years, she had carried shame.
Part of her had wondered whether she had been weak.
Whether she should have risked everything.
Whether Dante would secretly blame her for taking his daughter away.
Now, looking into Vittorio’s face, she understood.
Fear had not made her weak.
It had made her a mother.
She had done what she believed would keep Rosie alive.
And she would do it again.
But she no longer intended to let fear dictate the next five years.
“You lost,” Elena said.
Vittorio smiled.
“I’m standing. You’re tied to a chair.”
“Dante knows.”
“Knowledge is useless if the man holding it dies.”
“He knows about Antonio.”
Vittorio’s smile faded.
Elena saw it.
Good.
“You thought you could bury everything.”
Vittorio stepped closer.
“What exactly did Isabella tell him?”
Elena realized he did not know.
She smiled.
“Enough.”
Vittorio slapped her.
Rosie screamed.
“Don’t touch my mama!”
Elena tasted blood.
Vittorio stared at the child.
Rosie stared back.
No tears now.
Only fury.
For a five-year-old, she had a frightening amount of Dante in her.
Vittorio crouched.
“Do you know who your father is?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what he does?”
Rosie frowned.
“He makes pancakes.”
Elena laughed despite the pain.
One guard turned his face away.
Vittorio did not appreciate the humor.
“He hurts people.”
Rosie looked at him.
“So do you.”
Vittorio stood abruptly.
Elena felt a strange rush of pride.
Outside, a boat horn sounded.
Vittorio checked his watch.
11:52 p.m.
“Your father should be arriving.”
Rosie whispered to Elena, “He’ll come.”
“I know.”
“Because he promised.”
Elena’s heart tightened.
“Yes.”
At 11:57, headlights appeared beyond the warehouse doors.
A black sedan stopped.
Dante emerged alone.
At least, he appeared alone.
Vittorio’s men searched him.
No weapon.
No wire.
Dante carried a small case.
He entered the warehouse.
His gaze found Rosie first.
Then Elena.
The bruise forming on her cheek.
Something terrible moved behind his eyes.
Elena shook her head slightly.
Not now.
Dante understood.
Vittorio spread his arms.
“Welcome.”
“Let them go.”
“The recording.”
Dante lifted the case.
“Here.”
Vittorio smiled.
“You always were predictable where Elena was concerned.”
Dante stepped closer.
“And you were always jealous where my father was concerned.”
Vittorio’s smile vanished.
“So she told you.”
“Isabella did.”
“Traitor.”
“She kept your secret thirteen years.”
“She should have taken it to the grave.”
“So should you.”
Vittorio’s men raised weapons.
Dante did not flinch.
“Careful.”
Vittorio laughed.
“You’re unarmed.”
“No.”
He looked at the case.
“You think that’s the only copy?”
Vittorio froze.
“The recording was sent to three federal prosecutors, two attorneys, and a journalist at eleven tonight.”
Vittorio’s face changed.
“You’re lying.”
“Probably.”
Dante shrugged.
“Want to gamble?”
Vittorio’s jaw clenched.
“You just destroyed yourself too.”
“No.”
“Federal investigators will tear apart everything you own.”
“Yes.”
Elena stared at Dante.
He had accepted that.
He had chosen it.
His empire.
His money.
His power.
He was letting it burn.
For them.
Vittorio laughed bitterly.
“You think surrender makes you noble?”
“No.”
Dante looked at Rosie.
“I think it makes me finished.”
“Finished?”
“With this life.”
Vittorio stared.
“You can’t leave.”
“Watch me.”
“You are a Moretti.”
“So is she.”
Dante pointed toward Rosie.
“And she will not inherit this.”
The words echoed.
Vittorio’s expression twisted.
“You would throw away generations for a child you met three days ago?”
Dante’s voice softened.
“I didn’t meet her three days ago.”
He looked at Rosie.
“I lost her five years ago.”
Rosie began crying.
Elena did too.
Vittorio saw weakness.
As always, he misunderstood love.
He reached for his gun.
Dante saw the movement.
Before either man could act, a voice sounded from the warehouse balcony.
“Put it down.”
Vittorio froze.
Marco emerged above them.
Weapon pointed downward.
Vittorio smiled slowly.
“My son.”
Marco descended the stairs.
“I said put it down.”
“You came.”
“Yes.”
Vittorio looked at Dante.
“See? Blood chooses blood.”
Marco stopped halfway.
“You’re right.”
Dante looked up.
Marco continued.
“That’s why I chose my brother.”
Vittorio’s expression emptied.
“What?”
Isabella stepped from behind Marco.
Vittorio stared at her.
“No.”
She held another recorder.
“You heard him.”
Vittorio looked between them.
“Brother?”
Marco descended.
Dante watched the realization strike.
Vittorio had suspected once.
Maybe known.
But hearing Marco claim Antonio publicly broke something inside him.
“You’re mine,” Vittorio said.
Marco’s face hardened.
“You raised me.”
“I am your father.”
“You murdered mine.”
Vittorio raised his gun.
Everything happened at once.
Marco fired.
Vittorio fired.
Dante dove toward Rosie.
Elena threw herself over the child.
A bullet struck the metal chair.
Another shattered a window.
More gunfire exploded outside.
Federal agents.
Police.
Luca’s contingency.
Vittorio stumbled.
Blood appeared on his shoulder.
He ran.
Dante followed.
“Dante!” Elena screamed.
But he could not let Vittorio escape.
Not again.
He chased him through the rear doors onto the pier.
Rain hammered the river.
Vittorio reached a speedboat.
Dante tackled him before he could untie it.
They crashed onto the wet dock.
Vittorio was twenty years older but fueled by desperation.
He struck Dante with the gun.
Dante fell.
Vittorio raised the weapon.
“You ruined everything.”
Dante looked up.
“No.”
Sirens screamed nearby.
“You did.”
Vittorio pulled the trigger.
Click.
Empty.
His face changed.
Dante kicked the weapon away.
He rose slowly.
Vittorio backed toward the edge.
“Do it,” he said.
Dante stared.
“Kill me.”
For most of his life, Dante would have.
Men had died for less.
His father had been murdered.
His daughter kidnapped.
Elena terrorized.
Years stolen.
Killing Vittorio would be easy.
Dante stepped closer.
Vittorio smiled.
“That’s it.”
Dante stopped.
Then lowered his fists.
“No.”
Vittorio frowned.
“I’m not giving you the ending you gave my father.”
Agents rushed onto the dock.
Dante stepped aside.
“Live with what you did.”
Federal officers forced Vittorio to the ground.
Cuffed him.
Read him his rights.
Vittorio screamed Dante’s name.
Dante turned away.
He ran back toward the warehouse.
Rosie saw him first.
“Daddy!”
Dante dropped to his knees.
She crashed into him.
He held her.
Then Elena.
For one unguarded second, all three clung together beneath the flashing lights.
Elena touched his face.
“You came.”
“I promised.”
Her eyes filled.
“You really gave everything up?”
Dante looked at his daughter.
“No.”
May you like
He held Rosie tighter.
“I finally figured out what everything was.”
Related Stories
