Chapter 6 - The Uncle Who Came Back From the DeadMatteo Castelli had been Emmett’s favorite person until he was nineteen.
That was the year Emmett stopped believing favorite people existed.
Matteo had been everything Salvatore was not.
Patient.
Funny.
Generous.
He taught Emmett how to box without making humiliation part of the lesson.
He bought him his first proper suit.
When Sofia died, Matteo sat beside Emmett through the entire funeral and never once told him not to cry.
Three years later, Matteo’s boat exploded off Newport.
No body was recovered.
Everyone assumed the ocean had taken him.
Apparently, the ocean had excellent manners.
It had returned him to Canada.
Emmett spent the morning reopening twelve years of buried files.
Financial movements.
Old crew loyalties.
Properties.
Names.
Luca stood over the desk.
“If Matteo has been alive this entire time, somebody funded him.”
“Find who.”
“Already started.”
Valerie sat near the window reading Angela’s ledger.
Each page made her angrier.
Payments to police.
Judges.
Inspectors.
Unions.
Private hospitals.
Charitable foundations.
The corruption was not one business.
It was a city’s skeleton.
“Emmett.”
He looked over.
Valerie held up a page.
“Your mother’s name.”
He crossed the room.
SOFIA CASTELLI — 250,000 — SAFE TRANSFER / M.V.
“M.V.,” Valerie said. “Marian Vance.”
Emmett read the entry again.
“My mother paid Marian.”
“To move someone.”
“Isabella.”
Valerie nodded.
His sister.
Alive somewhere, if Franca was right.
The idea was almost too large to touch.
He had mourned two girls who were not dead.
His sister.
Valerie.
How many graves in his life were lies?
His phone rang.
Adrian Costas.
Emmett answered.
“Talk.”
Adrian’s voice was calm.
“My daughter tells me you know about Matteo.”
“Your daughter tells you too much.”
“She tells me what keeps us alive.”
“Then start doing the same.”
A pause.
“Meet me.”
“Where?”
“The old Costas warehouse.”
“Why?”
“Because if Matteo is alive, neither of our houses is safe.”
Emmett looked at Valerie.
She shook her head.
He ignored her.
“One hour.”
He hung up.
“You’re not going,” Valerie said.
“I am.”
“That place sounds exactly like somewhere men go to get shot.”
“That describes most places I visit.”
“You joke badly when you’re worried.”
Emmett looked at her.
“You remember that too?”
“I remember everything.”
The words landed softly.
He wanted to ask what else.
Instead he said, “Stay here.”
“No.”
“Valerie.”
“Someone spent twenty years trying to kill me because of information my mother died hiding. I’m done waiting in rooms while men decide what happens next.”
Luca looked between them.
“I’m staying out of this.”
“Coward,” Emmett said.
“Alive coward.”
Valerie folded her arms.
“I’m coming.”
Emmett stared.
She stared back.
“Fine.”
Luca sighed.
“I hate reunions.”
The old Costas warehouse stood near the river, abandoned except for private security.
Adrian waited inside beside Delphine.
He looked older than he had yesterday.
Emmett placed the Montreal photograph on a crate.
“Start.”
Adrian looked at Valerie.
“So you survived.”
Valerie’s face hardened.
“That disappoints you?”
“No.”
“Your men tried to change that.”
“They were not mine.”
“They had Costas tattoos.”
“So did half the fools who worked for me twenty years ago.”
Adrian looked at Emmett.
“Matteo kept men loyal after Salvatore fell.”
“Matteo supposedly died.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Did Delphine?”
“No.”
Emmett studied him.
Adrian looked toward Valerie.
“Your mother was braver than most men I knew.”
Valerie’s expression turned cold.
“Don’t speak about her like you admired her.”
“I did.”
“You let her die.”
“Yes.”
The honesty stunned her.
Adrian continued.
“I arrived too late to stop Matteo.”
“You were there.”
“I was outside.”
“You could have saved her.”
“I could have tried.”
“But?”
“He had six men.”
“And you had a daughter in the car.”
Adrian looked at Delphine.
“Yes.”
Valerie laughed bitterly.
“All of you had reasons.”
“No,” Adrian said. “We had cowardice.”
Even Emmett looked at him.
Adrian met Valerie’s eyes.
“I have no defense.”
She looked away first.
“What does Matteo want now?” Emmett asked.
“The original ledger.”
“We have it.”
Adrian’s gaze sharpened.
“That is a copy.”
Valerie frowned.
“My mother hid this.”
“She hid several.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
“Where is the original?”
“I don’t know.”
Emmett stepped closer.
“You’re lying.”
“Not about this.”
Adrian reached into his coat.
Luca raised his gun.
Adrian slowly removed an envelope.
Inside was an old hospital bracelet.
VALERIE RUSSO.
Valerie stared.
“How did you get that?”
“Marian gave it to me ten years ago.”
“Why?”
“To prove you were alive.”
Valerie looked ill.
“You knew?”
“Not where.”
“You knew I wasn’t dead while I watched them bury my name?”
“Yes.”
Her hand trembled.
Emmett moved slightly closer to her.
Adrian continued.
“Marian believed death was your protection.”
“Then why send proof to you?”
“Because she needed money.”
Valerie’s expression hardened.
“She sold me?”
“No. She bought you time.”
“From who?”
“Matteo.”
Silence.
Adrian explained.
After the fire, Matteo realized Valerie might have survived.
Marian used contacts in hospitals and social services to hide her.
But hiding a child required money, documents, safe houses.
Adrian funded part of it.
Not from kindness.
From guilt.
“And Matteo?” Emmett asked.
“He kept looking.”
“For twenty years?”
“For the original ledger.”
Valerie rubbed her temples.
“Why is that ledger so important?”
Adrian looked at Emmett.
“Because it doesn’t only record payments.”
“What else?”
“It records ownership.”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“Companies. Properties. Trusts. Politicians.”
Emmett stared.
“Names?”
“One name matters.”
“Whose?”
“Salvatore Castelli’s hidden beneficiary.”
Emmett’s expression became still.
“What beneficiary?”
“Your father moved more than eighty million dollars before he died.”
Luca muttered something under his breath.
“Where?”
Adrian shook his head.
“The ledger identifies the person entitled to claim it.”
“Matteo?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Adrian looked directly at Valerie.
“You.”
Valerie laughed.
It was not amused.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Your father helped Salvatore move the money. Salvatore did not trust Matteo or Adrian. He used Angela’s name as nominee without her knowledge.”
Valerie stared.
“Then why me?”
“Because after Angela died, the beneficial interest transferred to her surviving child.”
Emmett’s jaw tightened.
“So Matteo wants Valerie alive long enough to access the assets.”
“Then dead.”
“Yes.”
Valerie stepped backward.
“I don’t want his money.”
“It isn’t about wanting it,” Adrian said. “It is about who controls it.”
Emmett looked toward Delphine.
“You knew?”
“Not until yesterday.”
He believed her.
He disliked that he believed her.
A phone rang.
Not Emmett’s.
Adrian looked at his screen.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A woman’s voice came through the speaker.
“Adrian?”
Valerie went white.
“Marian.”
The room froze.
Adrian activated speakerphone.
“Where are you?”
“No time.”
Marian sounded breathless.
“Matteo knows Emmett found Valerie.”
Emmett moved closer.
“Where is he?”
“He wants the girl.”
“I’m not a girl,” Valerie snapped.
Silence.
Then Marian made a broken sound.
“Red?”
Valerie’s anger vanished.
“Marian?”
“My God.”
Valerie gripped the table.
“You’re alive.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“Listen to me.”
“No. You disappeared.”
“I had to.”
“You left me alone.”
“I know.”
“You told me never to trust Castelli.”
Marian’s voice broke.
“I was wrong about one of them.”
Emmett looked at Valerie.
Marian continued.
“Matteo has people inside both families.”
“Names,” Emmett said.
“One is close to you.”
“Who?”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Marian gasped.
Then came a man’s voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
Emmett stopped breathing.
“Hello, nephew.”
Matteo.
“Uncle.”
“You grew up.”
“You stayed alive.”
“We both disappoint people.”
Emmett’s hand tightened around the phone.
“Let Marian go.”
Matteo laughed softly.
“You sound like your mother.”
Emmett’s expression changed.
“Do not say her name.”
“She said the same thing about yours.”
“What do you want?”
“The ledger.”
“We have it.”
“No.”
Matteo chuckled.
“You have Angela’s decoy.”
Valerie stared at Adrian.
He nodded grimly.
Matteo continued.
“The real ledger is somewhere only Red can open.”
“I don’t know where it is.”
“Oh, you do.”
Valerie shook her head.
“You just don’t remember.”
Emmett stepped closer to the phone.
“What happens if we refuse?”
“I kill Marian.”
Valerie flinched.
“Then I kill Franca.”
Emmett’s face hardened.
“Then Delphine.”
Adrian’s eyes went cold.
“And after that,” Matteo said, “I come for Isabella.”
Emmett’s blood froze.
He could barely speak.
“You know where my sister is.”
“I put her there.”
The sentence shattered twenty years of history.
Emmett whispered, “What?”
Matteo laughed.
“You really believed Sofia arranged everything herself?”
“Where is Isabella?”
“Bring Red to Pier Nine tomorrow at midnight.”
“No.”
Valerie looked at him.
Matteo sighed.
“Then your sister dies before you meet her.”
The line disconnected.
Nobody moved.
Then Valerie spoke.
“I’m going.”
Emmett turned.
“No.”
“He has Marian.”
“No.”
“He has your sister.”
“You are not trading yourself.”
“It’s my choice.”
“It’s suicide.”
“So was entering a burning basement.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“Because I was there.”
Valerie stared at him.
The meaning landed between them.
Because I was there.
Because he could protect her.
Because he could not watch another grave appear with her name.
Her expression softened for one second.
Then Delphine’s phone buzzed.
She checked the message.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She turned the screen toward them.
A photograph showed Franca tied to a chair.
Blood at her temple.
Beside her stood Matteo Castelli.
Alive.
Smiling.
Under the photograph were four words.
MIDNIGHT.
BRING MY NIECE.
Emmett stared at the message.
Then slowly looked at Valerie.
Valerie looked back.
“Your niece?”
Adrian whispered.
Emmett’s chest stopped.
Valerie frowned.
“What does that mean?”
No one answered.
Because suddenly another possibility existed.
One that made the room tilt.
Angela Russo had been connected to the Castellis far more deeply than anyone had admitted.
May you like
And if Matteo called Valerie his niece—
Then Valerie’s father might not have been the man she had believed him to be.
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