Chapter 7 - The Traitor at the TableVincent told nobody about the trap.
Find Hargrove’s allies.
Grab them.
Apply pressure until someone talked.
It had worked for years.
But Hargrove knew that strategy.
So Vincent did the opposite.
He called a lawyer.
Then an accountant.
Then a journalist.
Marco stared at him as though Vincent had announced he was opening a flower shop.
“You’re giving the evidence to civilians?”
Vincent looked up.
“To people Hargrove can’t shoot without exposing himself.”
“That has never stopped politicians before.”
“Then we give copies to enough people.”
Within four hours, six encrypted evidence packages existed.
One went to a federal prosecutor Vincent had spent years avoiding.
One went to an investigative reporter at a national newspaper.
One went to Luca Valenti.
Marco objected to that one.
Vincent ignored him.
If Hargrove had been stealing from Luca, the rival boss had reason to cooperate.
Another copy went to Adrian’s attorney.
Another to Evelyn Shaw.
And the final copy entered a dead-man system that would automatically release everything if Vincent failed to reset it every twelve hours.
For the first time in his life, Vincent’s protection did not depend on secrecy.
It depended on exposure.
Hargrove called at noon.
“You think paperwork protects you?”
Vincent sat in the kitchen while Sofia colored beside him.
“It makes killing me inconvenient.”
“You gave Valenti the files.”
“Yes.”
“You’re making alliances with your enemies.”
“No.”
Vincent glanced at Sofia.
“I’m giving them better enemies.”
Hargrove’s voice hardened.
“You have six hours.”
Vincent hung up.
Sofia looked up.
“Was that the bad man?”
Vincent had tried keeping the truth away from her.
That was becoming impossible.
“Yes.”
“Did he hurt Uncle Adrian?”
Vincent froze.
No one had told her Adrian was missing.
“How do you know?”
“I heard Maria crying.”
Vincent closed his eyes briefly.
“Sofia.”
She put down the crayon.
“Is Uncle Adrian coming home?”
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
Vincent hated promises.
Promises created weaknesses.
He had learned that young.
Yet he looked at her and said, “I promise.”
Marco entered.
“We found the car.”
Vincent stood instantly.
“Where?”
“Abandoned in Red Hook.”
“Blood?”
“None.”
“Cameras?”
“Wiped.”
“Anything?”
Marco nodded.
“Adrian left us something.”
He placed a cuff link on the table.
Sofia pointed.
“That’s his.”
Vincent recognized it too.
Adrian always wore silver compass cuff links.
Engraved on the back was a tiny scratch.
Marco had magnified it.
Three letters.
NBR.
Vincent frowned.
“North Bridge Road?”
Marco shook his head.
“I think it’s North Bay Refinery.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
An abandoned refinery on Staten Island.
One of the shell companies in Isabella’s records had purchased nearby land.
Vincent immediately ordered surveillance.
No assault.
No dramatic convoy.
One drone.
Two plain vehicles.
A Coast Guard contact.
And, reluctantly, federal authorities.
The old Vincent would have considered that humiliation.
The new Vincent considered it leverage.
By afternoon they confirmed movement inside the refinery.
Hargrove’s men.
At least twelve.
Possible hostage.
Vincent planned the rescue with Marco and federal agents in a warehouse command post.
Everyone expected Vincent to demand control.
Instead he asked one question.
“How do we get Adrian out alive?”
The lead agent, Caroline Pierce, studied him.
“You understand if we go in, you don’t.”
“I understand.”
“You stay outside.”
“Yes.”
Marco looked at Vincent.
Agent Pierce clearly did not believe him.
“Mr. Moretti, I know your reputation.”
“So does everyone.”
“This operation is ours.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“My brother is inside.”
“And that is exactly why you stay out.”
Silence.
Then Sofia’s words entered his mind.
Guns are rude.
Not relevant.
But somehow present.
Vincent nodded.
“Fine.”
Pierce blinked.
She had prepared for an argument.
“Fine?”
“You heard me.”
The raid began at 8:17 p.m.
Vincent remained in the mobile command vehicle.
Barely.
He watched helmet-camera feeds.
Federal agents entered from two sides.
Hargrove’s men scattered.
Shots echoed.
Vincent gripped the table.
Then someone shouted.
“Hostage located!”
Camera swung.
Adrian sat tied to a chair in an office.
Alive.
Vincent released a breath.
But then gunfire erupted from another hallway.
Hargrove was escaping.
Marco looked at Vincent.
“Boat dock.”
Vincent did not move.
Agent Pierce shouted orders.
Another team pursued.
Vincent watched Hargrove reach a black SUV.
Then disappear behind a warehouse.
He escaped.
Ten minutes later, Adrian was brought out.
Bruised.
Bleeding.
Alive.
Vincent ignored everyone and walked toward him.
Adrian looked up.
“You actually let the feds rescue me?”
Vincent stared.
Adrian laughed, then winced.
“Elena really did change you from the grave.”
Vincent hugged him.
The entire staging area became quiet.
Moretti brothers did not hug publicly.
Apparently, they did now.
Adrian whispered, “Ow.”
Vincent stepped back.
“You complain too much.”
“I was kidnapped.”
“You’re alive.”
“Thanks to government employees.”
“I’m trying something new.”
Adrian smiled weakly.
“I noticed.”
They returned to the penthouse after midnight.
Sofia was awake.
The moment Adrian entered, she ran toward him.
“Uncle Adrian!”
He knelt despite his bruised ribs.
She wrapped both arms around his neck.
Vincent watched.
Something shifted inside him again.
Not weakness.
Something more frightening.
Belonging.
Later, after Sofia finally fell asleep, Adrian and Vincent sat in the study.
“Hargrove escaped,” Adrian said.
“Yes.”
“He won’t stop.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Vincent stared at Elena’s letter.
“We finish what Elena started.”
Adrian nodded.
“With evidence?”
“With everything.”
Adrian studied him.
“What happened to my brother?”
Vincent almost smiled.
“He made a promise.”
“To Sofia?”
“Yes.”
Adrian leaned back.
“Terrifying.”
“What?”
“That kid has more influence over you than every criminal organization in New York.”
Vincent looked toward the hallway.
“She trusts me.”
Adrian’s expression softened.
“That’s bigger.”
Vincent did not answer.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A distorted voice whispered.
“Check Sofia’s room.”
Vincent was moving before the call ended.
He reached her bedroom in seconds.
Maria stood by the window.
Sofia slept peacefully.
Nothing seemed wrong.
Then Vincent saw the wall.
Above the bed, written in red paint, were five words.
YOU CAN’T WATCH HER FOREVER.
Maria gasped.
Vincent stared.
The window was locked.
The security system had not triggered.
Someone had entered the room while the house was full of guards.
Again.
But this time, Vincent noticed something different.
A tiny security camera above the doorway.
Its indicator light was off.
He turned toward Marco.
“Internal access.”
Marco nodded grimly.
Vincent looked at the sleeping child.
The threat was not outside.
May you like
Someone in Vincent’s organization was still helping Hargrove.
And that person had just stood beside Sofia’s bed.
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