Chapter 3 - THE DEAD MAN’S NAMEFor several seconds, no one in the nursery moved.
Rain struck the broken window.
Leo’s thin cry became the only sound in the room.
Dante stared at Clara.
“My brother is dead.”
Clara’s mouth twisted.
“You buried a box of ashes.”
“Dental records confirmed him.”
“Someone confirmed dental records.”
Dante grabbed the front of her uniform.
“Where is Marco?”
Clara looked directly into his eyes.
“If you kill me, you never find out.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“Boss.”
Dante released her.
“Take her downstairs.”
Clara laughed again.
“You’re still asking the wrong question.”
Dante turned.
“What question?”
“Why would a dead man need his son alive?”
That stopped him.
Clara was taken to a secure room beneath the east wing.
Leo was transported under armed escort to a private pediatric hospital where Vivienne remained with him.
The emergency airway procedure had saved his life.
Doctors stabilized him.
Dante arrived forty minutes later.
Vivienne stood outside the intensive care room washing dried blood from her hands.
He watched her through the glass partition.
The woman he had nearly executed looked smaller without the tension of the crisis.
She turned.
“You missed.”
Dante knew exactly what she meant.
“The shot.”
“I wasn’t aiming at you.”
“You waited until one.”
“I needed to know whether you would stop.”
Her eyes hardened.
“A baby was dying and you decided to test me?”
“I decided not to shoot you.”
“That is not the defense you think it is.”
Dante accepted the anger.
“I was wrong.”
Vivienne stared at him.
He did not apologize often.
Maybe she knew that.
Maybe she did not care.
“You were ready to believe Clara,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Because she cries beautifully?”
“Because she earned my trust.”
“And I didn’t.”
“No.”
The answer hurt more because it was immediate.
Vivienne looked through the glass at Leo.
“You should have asked yourself who worked hardest to earn it.”
Dante had no response.
A pediatric surgeon approached.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Dante turned.
“Your nephew is stable. The airway injury is minor considering what happened. Whoever performed the procedure knew exactly where to cut.”
He glanced at Vivienne.
“She saved his life.”
Dante nodded.
“I know.”
When the doctor left, Dante said, “Come home.”
Vivienne almost laughed.
“To the house where your staff believes I tried to murder a baby?”
“To help me find out who did.”
She looked at him.
“You believe Clara?”
“I believe she knows something.”
“About Marco?”
“Yes.”
Vivienne considered him.
“Then we start with the explosion.”
They returned before dawn.
Clara was waiting.
Her shoulder had been treated by a discreet physician. Her arm was immobilized.
Dante sat opposite her.
Vivienne stood near the wall.
Sal and Vincent remained by the door.
Clara looked at them.
“No lawyer?”
Dante’s eyes were flat.
“You attempted to suffocate an infant.”
“I was following instructions.”
“From whom?”
“Marco.”
The room tightened.
Dante leaned forward.
“Say that again.”
“Your brother ordered the test.”
“What test?”
“To see what Vivienne would do.”
Dante’s chair scraped backward.
Vincent moved as if expecting violence.
Vivienne spoke first.
“Why would Marco test me?”
Clara looked at her.
“Because he needed to know whether you were like your father.”
Everett Cross.
Vivienne’s face changed.
“What does my father have to do with Marco?”
“Everything.”
Clara took a breath.
“Marco discovered someone inside the Moretti organization was selling transportation schedules to Cross contractors. He thought your father ordered it.”
Dante looked at Sal.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
Clara continued.
“Marco investigated alone. Then he discovered the information wasn’t going directly to Everett.”
“To whom?” Dante demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I don’t.”
Clara’s fear looked genuine now.
“Marco disappeared before he told me.”
Dante stood.
“You expect me to believe he faked his death and abandoned his son?”
“He didn’t abandon Leo.”
Clara’s eyes filled.
“He thought staying dead was the only way to protect him.”
Vivienne said, “Then why nearly kill the child?”
“I wasn’t supposed to kill him.”
“You covered his airway.”
“With a membrane designed to dissolve.”
Vivienne stepped forward.
“It did not dissolve.”
“I know.”
For the first time, Clara looked ashamed.
“The mixture was wrong. It was supposed to trigger distress for seconds.”
“You drugged the guard.”
“I needed the hallway empty.”
“You contaminated Leo’s medication?”
“No.”
Clara shook her head.
“That wasn’t me.”
Dante’s gaze sharpened.
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
Silence.
That changed everything.
If Clara was telling the truth, more than one person was targeting Leo.
Vivienne asked, “Why test me?”
“Marco believed the Cross alliance might be his only way back.”
Clara looked at Dante.
“He needed to know if Vivienne would protect Leo even when doing so made her look guilty.”
Dante’s expression darkened.
“You nearly let me kill her.”
Clara whispered, “Marco said you wouldn’t.”
Dante slammed both hands against the table.
“You knew nothing about what I would do!”
Clara flinched.
“No.”
“You put my nephew under a blade!”
“I know.”
“You made me aim a gun at the woman saving him!”
“I know!”
The room went silent.
Clara began crying.
Not delicately now.
Not beautifully.
Ugly tears.
“I thought Marco knew what he was doing.”
Dante stared at her.
“Where is he?”
“I haven’t seen him in four months.”
“How does he contact you?”
“Disposable phones.”
“Where are they?”
“Destroyed.”
“Next contact?”
“I don’t know.”
Dante slowly sat.
Vivienne watched Clara.
Something about the story still bothered her.
“Why did you look horrified when Leo survived?”
Clara looked away.
“Because the membrane failed.”
“That makes no sense.”
Vivienne stepped closer.
“You should have been relieved.”
Clara swallowed.
Vivienne’s voice softened.
“Unless someone changed the plan without telling you.”
Clara closed her eyes.
There.
The truth.
Dante saw it.
“Who?”
Clara whispered, “A man called Bishop.”
Sal stiffened.
Dante looked at him.
“You know the name?”
Sal’s face had gone pale.
“Not a man.”
“What?”
“Bishop was a security protocol Marco created.”
Dante frowned.
“For what?”
Sal looked toward the door.
“For identifying betrayal inside the family.”
Clara shook her head.
“That’s not what he told me.”
“Who?”
“The man using the name.”
Vivienne asked, “Describe him.”
“I never saw his full face. He met me twice in dark places. Tall. Older. Gray at the temples. He wore gloves.”
“Voice?”
“Low. American. Chicago accent.”
Sal looked uncomfortable.
Dante noticed.
“What?”
Sal hesitated.
“Marco once told me Bishop was named after someone.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
Dante froze.
His father, Antonio Moretti, had died nine years earlier after a stroke.
At least that was what everyone had been told.
Sal continued.
“Antonio used to play chess with Marco. He always chose the bishop because he said people underestimated pieces that moved diagonally.”
Vivienne crossed her arms.
“Someone is using family history to manipulate Clara.”
“Or Marco.”
Dante looked at Sal.
“Find every reference to Bishop.”
Sal nodded.
Vincent left to check archived security files.
An hour later, he returned carrying an old hard drive.
“This came from Marco’s private office.”
The drive contained encrypted folders.
Vivienne sat beside Dante as Vincent opened them one by one.
Shipping routes.
Financial transfers.
Photographs.
Then a folder labeled BISHOP.
Inside was a video.
Marco appeared on screen.
Alive.
The timestamp was five days after his supposed death.
Dante stopped breathing.
Marco looked exhausted.
His left cheek was bruised.
“If you’re watching this,” he said, “then something has gone wrong.”
Dante gripped the table.
Marco continued.
“There is a traitor inside our organization. I don’t know how high it goes. I don’t know whether Dante is compromised, so this file is locked behind a delayed release.”
Dante’s face hardened at the words.
Vivienne watched him.
Marco leaned closer to the camera.
“The accident was not an accident.”
A pause.
“Elena is dead.”
His voice broke.
“My wife died because someone wanted me silent.”
Dante stared.
Marco wiped his face.
“I survived because Elena pushed me from the car before the second explosion.”
Clara began sobbing.
Marco continued.
“I cannot go home. Whoever killed her has access to Moretti security and Cross intelligence. They are watching both families.”
Vivienne’s expression sharpened.
“Both.”
Marco’s recorded voice continued.
“The engagement between Dante and Vivienne may be forced, but it could also be the only thing the traitor fears.”
Dante looked at her.
Marco said, “If those two families stop fighting long enough to compare records, the truth becomes visible.”
Then Marco spoke the sentence that changed everything.
“Do not trust Salvatore Mercer.”
Nobody moved.
Dante slowly turned.
Sal stood beside the door.
His face was white.
“Dante,” he said.
Vincent reached for his weapon.
Sal moved faster.
He drew a pistol and fired.
The bullet struck Vincent in the chest.
Vivienne screamed.
Dante flipped the table as Sal fired again.
Glass shattered.
Clara threw herself down.
Dante drew his weapon.
Sal ran.
Dante chased him into the corridor.
“Sal!”
The man who had served him for fifteen years glanced back.
For one moment, regret crossed his face.
Then he vanished through the side stairwell.
Dante reached the courtyard seconds later.
A black SUV tore through the service gates.
Guards fired.
The vehicle disappeared into the rain.
Dante stood beneath the storm with his pistol lowered.
Behind him, Vivienne appeared.
“Vincent’s alive,” she said. “The vest stopped it.”
Dante barely heard her.
His oldest adviser.
The man who had been beside him at Marco’s funeral.
The man who had taught him how to hold Leo.
The man who had warned him not to trust Vivienne.
Dante looked back toward the house.
“We find Sal.”
Vivienne said quietly, “No.”
He turned.
“We find Marco first.”
Dante’s eyes hardened.
“You heard the recording.”
“Yes.”
“He warned me about Sal.”
“Yes.”
“But he also said he didn’t know whether you were compromised.”
Dante stared at her.
Vivienne stepped closer.
“Marco trusted nobody.”
May you like
She looked toward the dark road where Sal had escaped.
“And right now, neither should we.”
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