Chapter 7 - THE TRAPBy dawn, Adrian had made a decision.
Lucian believed his brother was emotional.
So Adrian would give him exactly what he expected.
At nine that morning, Chicago’s criminal circles began hearing the same rumor.
Adrian Moretti was hunting his brother.
By ten, one of Adrian’s men publicly smashed up a Lucian-controlled gambling room.
By eleven, another crew seized two trucks from a warehouse on the South Side.
By noon, everyone believed a Moretti civil war had begun.
Except it hadn’t.
Every move was staged.
Every target had been emptied first.
Every rumor had been deliberately planted.
Lucian was supposed to believe Adrian had become reckless.
Meanwhile, Agent Sloan quietly obtained warrants using Daniel’s records.
“We need him talking,” she said.
Adrian sat in the temporary command room beneath the estate.
“How?”
“He won’t confess to me.”
“No.”
“He might confess to you.”
Sofia stood in the doorway.
“No.”
Adrian looked up.
She folded her arms.
“You are not meeting him.”
“That’s the plan.”
“It’s a stupid plan.”
Sloan’s eyebrows rose.
Marco looked at the floor.
Adrian stared.
Sofia did not care.
“He has already tried to kill you.”
“Technically, he tried to kill all of us.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
Adrian almost smiled.
Almost.
“We need evidence.”
“You have Daniel’s letter.”
“Not enough for murder.”
“What about the weapons?”
“Enough for arrests. Not enough for Elena and Claire.”
Sofia’s expression softened.
“So this is about them.”
“It was always about them.”
She approached.
“No.”
Adrian frowned.
“It was.”
“At first.”
Her eyes moved toward the ceiling.
“Now it’s also about Emma.”
He said nothing.
“And maybe about you.”
Adrian looked away.
Sofia lowered her voice.
“You spent three years not caring whether you lived.”
The words hit.
“You barely ate. You slept in your office. You locked your daughter’s room and turned yourself into a ghost.”
Sloan quietly stepped away.
Marco followed.
Adrian and Sofia were alone.
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I know you read Emma a bedtime story while your hands were shaking.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“I know you threw away moldy bread and then looked guilty because you realized what it meant to her.”
“Sofia.”
“I know you ran into a burning room because you thought something Daniel hid might protect us.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“And I know my daughter asks every fifteen minutes where Mr. Stone is.”
Adrian stopped.
Sofia’s voice broke slightly.
“She trusts you.”
“That is exactly what frightens me.”
Her expression changed.
“Why?”
“Because people who love me die.”
The words were quiet.
Barely audible.
Sofia stared.
Adrian looked toward Claire’s burned wing.
“My mother died. My father died. Elena died. Claire died.”
“Your father was seventy-two.”
“That’s not the point.”
“You think love is a curse?”
“I think closeness is information.”
Sofia understood.
“Lucian used Elena.”
“He used my schedule.”
“You didn’t kill them.”
“I gave him access.”
“You were his brother.”
“I trusted him.”
“That isn’t a crime.”
“In my world, it can be.”
Sofia came closer.
“You can’t punish yourself forever because another man betrayed you.”
Adrian looked at her.
Something passed between them.
Dangerous.
Quiet.
Human.
He stepped back first.
“The meeting happens tonight.”
Sofia’s eyes flashed.
“Fine.”
He blinked.
“Fine?”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“You need Lucian talking?”
“Yes.”
“He wants Daniel’s evidence.”
“Yes.”
“I’m Daniel’s widow.”
“No.”
“He’ll talk to me.”
“Absolutely not.”
Sofia’s chin lifted.
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Don’t.”
“Adrian, for three years I have scrubbed floors while men threatened my child because of this.”
“And that’s why you stay here.”
“No.”
“You’re not bait.”
“I already am.”
Silence.
She stepped closer.
“I have been bait since Daniel died.”
Adrian hated that she was right.
The meeting took place at an abandoned Moretti freight terminal near the river.
Agent Sloan’s team wired the building.
Adrian wore no recording device.
Sofia did.
Lucian arrived at 10:08 p.m.
Alone.
At least visibly.
He stepped from a black sedan wearing a navy suit and no overcoat despite the cold.
He smiled when he saw Adrian.
“Brother.”
Adrian stood beside a warehouse table.
Sofia remained hidden in the adjoining office.
“You wanted a war,” Lucian said.
“Did I?”
“You hit my rooms.”
“Your rooms?”
Lucian laughed softly.
“There he is.”
“Who?”
“The old Adrian.”
“You mean before my wife died?”
Lucian’s smile weakened.
“Don’t.”
“Before my daughter was burned alive?”
“Don’t do this.”
“Why?”
Lucian stepped closer.
“You’re grieving.”
“I was.”
“Was?”
Adrian smiled coldly.
“Now I’m curious.”
Lucian’s face changed.
Adrian placed Daniel’s empty steel tube on the table.
Lucian stared.
“What is that?”
“You tell me.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“Then why are you looking scared?”
“I’m not.”
Adrian opened the tube.
Empty.
Lucian swallowed.
“Where did you get it?”
“Claire’s room.”
That landed.
Adrian saw it.
The microscopic widening of Lucian’s eyes.
“You burned it too early.”
Lucian went still.
“What?”
“The room.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“But Daniel Romano wasn’t.”
Lucian’s face became blank.
“That mechanic?”
“You remember him.”
“I remember employees.”
“Twenty-three thousand of them?”
Lucian said nothing.
“Interesting memory.”
The side office door opened.
Sofia stepped out.
Lucian’s composure finally cracked.
“You.”
She stared at him.
“You had Daniel killed.”
“No.”
“You threatened Emma.”
“No.”
“You paid Rossi.”
Lucian smiled faintly.
“Careful, Mrs. Romano. Grief creates stories.”
Sofia’s hands trembled.
But her voice didn’t.
“Daniel recorded you.”
Lucian’s eyes flickered.
“What recording?”
Adrian noticed.
So did Sloan listening remotely.
Sofia took another step.
“The one where you discussed the weapons.”
Lucian relaxed.
“Then play it.”
She said nothing.
He smiled wider.
“You don’t have it.”
Adrian interrupted.
“We have enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
Lucian’s confidence returned.
“You have Daniel’s paranoia and a dead gangster.”
He leaned toward Adrian.
“You think the FBI is going to believe this saint routine?”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
Lucian continued.
“You are Adrian Moretti. Half the city thinks you’ve ordered murders.”
“And the other half?”
“Knows you have.”
Adrian smiled.
“Still no confession.”
Lucian stared.
Then understood.
“You’re recording this.”
Sofia’s face changed.
Lucian lunged.
Adrian intercepted him.
They crashed against the table.
Lucian pulled a hidden knife.
Adrian caught his wrist.
For the first time since childhood, the brothers truly fought.
Not sparred.
Not argued.
Fought.
Lucian drove his forehead into Adrian’s face.
Adrian staggered.
Lucian swung the knife.
Sofia shouted.
Adrian blocked.
He twisted.
The knife hit the floor.
Lucian kicked him backward.
Then pulled a pistol from his ankle holster.
Sofia froze.
“Move!” Adrian shouted.
Lucian pointed the gun at her.
“You should have stayed poor and invisible.”
Adrian stepped in front of Sofia.
Lucian laughed breathlessly.
“There he is.”
His eyes became wild.
“Always saving somebody.”
Adrian said nothing.
Lucian’s voice cracked with old resentment.
“Mother loved you more.”
Adrian blinked.
“Father trusted you more.”
“Lucian—”
“Elena chose you.”
“What does Elena have to do with this?”
Lucian smiled.
Everything changed.
“She was supposed to convince you to sell the freight company.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
“What?”
“She found out what I was moving.”
Sofia stared.
“She threatened to tell Adrian,” Lucian continued.
Adrian’s face emptied.
“So you killed her.”
Lucian’s eyes shone.
“I wanted you out of the way.”
“And Claire?”
For the first time, Lucian looked away.
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“My daughter.”
“She wasn’t supposed to be in the car.”
Adrian swayed.
Sofia covered her mouth.
Lucian’s eyes filled with something that almost resembled regret.
“Elena changed plans.”
Adrian moved.
Sofia grabbed him.
“No!”
Lucian raised the gun.
FBI agents exploded through the doors.
“DROP IT!”
Lucian spun.
Gunfire cracked.
Adrian threw Sofia down.
A bullet tore through his side.
He collapsed.
Sofia screamed.
“ADRIAN!”
Agents swarmed Lucian.
Sloan kicked the gun away.
Marco rushed in.
Blood spread across Adrian’s shirt.
Sofia pressed both hands over the wound.
“Stay with me.”
Adrian looked up at her.
His face had gone pale.
“Emma.”
“She’s safe.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
His eyes fluttered.
Sofia slapped his cheek lightly.
“No. No, you don’t get to do that.”
A weak smile touched his mouth.
“You’re bossy.”
Tears ran down her face.
“You noticed.”
“Hard not to.”
“Stay awake.”
He tried.
But the warehouse ceiling blurred.
May you like
Sofia’s voice grew distant.
And for the second time in Adrian Moretti’s life, darkness came while someone he loved was calling his name.
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