Chapter 6 - FIRE IN THE GARDENThe first bullet shattered Adrian’s study window at 2:17 a.m.
He hit the floor before the glass finished falling.
“DOWN!”
Marco dragged Sofia behind the desk.
Emma had been sleeping upstairs.
That was Adrian’s first thought.
Not Lucian.
Not himself.
Emma.
He drew his weapon.
Another bullet tore through the wall.
Then the alarms began screaming.
Marco pressed his radio.
“WEST LAWN! MOVEMENT WEST LAWN!”
Adrian was already running.
Sofia grabbed him.
“Emma!”
“I’m getting her.”
He reached the second floor as smoke rolled from the east corridor.
Fire.
Not an accident.
“Claire’s room.”
His stomach dropped.
He sprinted.
Flames crawled up the wallpaper near the hidden passage.
Two guards were trying to break the door.
Locked.
“Move!”
Adrian fired twice into the lock.
He kicked the door open.
Smoke filled the room.
“EMMA!”
No answer.
The bed was empty.
Sofia reached the doorway behind him.
“Emma!”
A faint cough came from the closet.
Adrian ripped it open.
Emma crouched inside holding Daisy over her face.
He grabbed her.
“Mr. Stone.”
“I’ve got you.”
“Daisy can’t breathe.”
Even now.
Even terrified.
The doll came first.
Adrian tucked Daisy beneath one arm and Emma beneath the other.
He carried them into the hallway.
Sofia caught her daughter.
Fire suppression sprinklers finally activated.
Cold water poured from the ceiling.
Marco shouted through the radio.
“Two shooters down! Third vehicle heading east!”
Adrian looked toward the burning room.
Then he saw something.
The rosewood floor beside Claire’s dresser had buckled under the heat.
Beneath one plank was metal.
A compartment.
Trust the garden.
Not necessarily Elena’s garden outside.
Claire’s room had been decorated with painted flowers across the baseboards.
Elena called it Claire’s garden.
“Get them downstairs.”
Sofia grabbed his arm.
“No.”
“What?”
“You’re not staying in here.”
“There’s something under the floor.”
“The room is burning.”
“Go.”
She stared at him.
Then at the flames.
“Adrian—”
“GO!”
She flinched.
He hated himself for it.
But she obeyed.
Adrian kicked the loosened floorboard.
Smoke burned his lungs.
Underneath sat a narrow steel tube.
He grabbed it.
A beam cracked overhead.
He barely escaped before part of the ceiling collapsed.
Outside, Sofia stood barefoot in the snow holding Emma.
When Adrian emerged through the side entrance coughing, she ran toward him.
“You idiot!”
He stopped.
No one had spoken to him like that in decades.
“You went back into a burning room!”
“I got it.”
“I don’t care!”
She shoved both hands against his chest.
“You could have died!”
Adrian stared at her.
She was crying.
For him.
Something inside him moved.
Then Emma coughed.
Sofia immediately turned.
Adrian knelt.
“You okay, little bird?”
Emma nodded weakly.
“Claire’s room is hurt.”
Adrian looked back at the smoke.
“Yes.”
“Can we fix it?”
The question destroyed him in a way the fire could not.
“We’ll fix it.”
Police sirens approached in the distance.
Adrian looked at Marco.
“Why are they coming?”
“I called fire.”
“No police.”
“Too late.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
If Lucian had corrupted officers, bringing law enforcement onto the estate could expose Sofia.
A black sedan appeared beyond the gate.
Not police.
FBI.
Adrian swore.
Special Agent Rebecca Sloan stepped out.
Forty-five.
Severe gray coat.
Expression like carved granite.
She had tried to indict Adrian twice.
“Moretti.”
“Agent Sloan.”
She surveyed the burning wing.
“Rough night?”
“Housewarming.”
Her gaze shifted to Sofia and Emma.
Then back to Adrian.
“I heard gunshots.”
“You hear lots of things.”
“I also heard Vittorio Rossi surfaced.”
Adrian said nothing.
Sloan’s eyes narrowed.
“Then disappeared.”
“Sounds like Vittorio.”
She stepped closer.
“If Rossi talked to you, I need to know what he said.”
“Why?”
“Because six hours ago someone dumped his body into the Chicago River.”
Sofia gasped.
Adrian’s face remained still.
“How?”
“Two bullets.”
Daniel.
Same method?
Sloan studied him.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You don’t look surprised.”
“I’m rarely surprised.”
She glanced at Emma.
“That child should be inside.”
“My house is on fire.”
Sloan almost smiled.
“Fair point.”
Adrian noticed something clipped beneath her coat.
A body camera.
Smart.
“Why are you really here?”
She lowered her voice.
“Because Rossi contacted me last month.”
Adrian’s attention sharpened.
“What did he say?”
“That he had evidence connecting a Moretti to an interstate weapons network.”
“And?”
“He wanted immunity.”
“For himself?”
“Yes.”
“Did he name the Moretti?”
“No.”
Adrian looked toward the estate.
“Convenient.”
“He did say one thing.”
“What?”
Sloan glanced at Sofia.
“He said Daniel Romano died trying to expose it.”
Sofia covered Emma’s ears.
Too late.
Emma looked up.
“Daddy?”
Sloan’s face changed.
Adrian stepped between them.
“Enough.”
The agent understood.
“I’m sorry.”
Emma buried her face against Sofia.
Adrian handed the steel tube to Marco.
“Office vault.”
Sloan noticed.
“What’s that?”
“Plumbing.”
She gave him a flat look.
“Your plumbing comes in steel evidence containers?”
“Expensive house.”
Sloan stepped closer.
“If you found something Daniel Romano hid, turning it over could protect them.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
“Like you protected Daniel?”
Her jaw clenched.
“He never came to us.”
“He tried to come to me.”
“And ended up dead.”
Adrian took one step toward her.
“So your pitch needs work.”
Sloan did not back down.
“Lucian Moretti is not your little brother anymore.”
Adrian froze.
Sofia stared.
The agent continued.
“We’ve been watching him eighteen months.”
“Why?”
“Smuggling.”
“Evidence?”
“Not enough.”
“Then why haven’t you told me?”
Sloan almost laughed.
“You’re Adrian Moretti.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s exactly the answer.”
Marco approached.
“Boss.”
His tone meant something serious.
“What?”
“We opened the tube.”
Adrian looked at Sloan.
Then at Sofia.
“Inside.”
They gathered in the underground wine cellar because the study windows were compromised.
Marco placed the tube on a wooden table.
Inside were six microfilm strips, an old USB drive, and a sealed envelope.
The front read:
FOR ADRIAN MORETTI ONLY.
Adrian stared at Daniel’s handwriting.
He opened it.
Stone,
If you are reading this, I am probably dead.
Adrian stopped.
Sofia turned away.
He continued.
I don’t know if I can trust the police. I don’t know if I can trust anyone in your family. But I believe I can trust the man who shut down Carlo Moretti’s gun routes after taking control.
Your brother Lucian is rebuilding them.
Adrian read faster.
Daniel listed warehouse numbers.
Dates.
Shipping codes.
And one final sentence.
I overheard Lucian discussing Elena Moretti.
Adrian’s hands stopped.
Sofia watched him.
He forced himself onward.
He said, “She knows too much. If Adrian won’t step aside for blood, grief will make him.”
The cellar disappeared.
Adrian could not breathe.
Three years of mourning collapsed into one sentence.
Lucian had killed them.
His brother had murdered Elena and Claire to break him.
Adrian crushed the paper in his fist.
Marco whispered, “Boss.”
Adrian lifted his head.
The man standing there was Stone again.
But this version was worse.
Because now Stone had something to lose.
And something to avenge.
Agent Sloan spoke carefully.
“Adrian, if you go after Lucian tonight—”
“He killed my daughter.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
Adrian slammed the letter onto the table.
“You want more?”
“Yes.”
He looked at her as if she had become insane.
“Yes,” Sloan repeated. “Because if you kill him, this ends with another funeral. If we prove it, we take everything from him. His money. His protection. His network. His freedom.”
Adrian’s voice became dangerously low.
“He killed Claire.”
“And Emma is upstairs.”
That stopped him.
Sloan nodded toward the ceiling.
“If you become what Lucian expects you to become, he wins.”
Adrian looked at Sofia.
She said nothing.
She didn’t need to.
Emma needed him alive.
He hated that this mattered.
He hated even more that it mattered so much.
Then Marco’s radio crackled.
“Boss, we found the third shooter’s car.”
“Driver?”
“Gone.”
“Anything inside?”
“A phone.”
“Bring it.”
Minutes later, Adrian stared at the phone screen.
One outgoing text had been sent at 2:15 a.m.
Two minutes before the first shot.
TARGETS CONFIRMED. WOMAN, CHILD, AND STONE ALL INSIDE.
The reply came from an unlisted number.
BURN THE GARDEN FIRST.
Adrian slowly looked toward the damaged east wing.
Lucian knew exactly where Claire’s room was.
And exactly what destroying it would do to Adrian.
Sofia whispered, “He wanted you angry.”
Adrian nodded.
“Why?”
“Because angry men make mistakes.”
Adrian stared at the evidence.
May you like
Then his expression changed.
“Not this one.”
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