Chapter 4 - Locker 317
They went to Manhattan before sunrise.
Cassie insisted.
Luca objected.
Cassie threatened to go alone.
That ended the argument.
Grand Central was beginning to wake when they entered. Commuters moved beneath the constellations painted across the ceiling while Cassie kept the brass key clenched inside her fist.
Locker 317 belonged to an old private storage facility connected to the terminal.
The key turned.
Inside sat a battered metal box.
Cassie lifted it out.
“No explosives?” she whispered.
Nico almost smiled.
Luca did not.
“Your father was an accountant, not a terrorist.”
“You've met accountants in your family. I haven't.”
That earned the smallest twitch from Luca’s mouth.
Inside the box were three objects.
A ledger.
A flash drive.
And a sealed letter.
CASSANDRA.
Cassie stopped breathing.
Nobody called her Cassandra.
Her father had.
She opened it.
His handwriting pulled thirteen years of grief into one unbearable moment.
Cassie read silently.
Miguel apologized.
Not for gambling.
For lying.
The gambling debt had been a cover story.
He had discovered that someone inside the Moretti organization was laundering money through medical charities, clinics, and insurance claims.
When he threatened to expose it, someone threatened Cassie and Max.
Miguel stole evidence.
Then he made a deal with Vittorio Moretti.
They would meet.
They would expose the traitor together.
They never made it.
Both vehicles crashed that night.
Cassie lowered the letter.
“My father wasn't gambling?”
“Maybe some,” Nico said gently. “But not twenty-five grand.”
Luca opened the ledger.
Page after page contained dates, accounts and initials.
V.M.
S.K.
And one repeated mark.
N.M.
Nico’s expression changed.
Cassie noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't.”
She stepped toward him.
“I've had enough men deciding what truth I can handle.”
Nico looked at Luca.
Luca’s face had become unreadable.
Cassie followed his gaze.
“N.M.,” she said.
Luca closed the ledger.
“My uncle.”
“Name?”
“Niccolo Moretti.”
Cassie felt her stomach sink.
“Your uncle killed our fathers?”
“We don't know that.”
“Your mother.”
Luca looked away.
“Yes.”
For the first time Cassie saw something beneath his control.
Not anger.
Pain.
Old enough to have become part of him.
She softened despite herself.
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“I’m sorry.”
Luca looked surprised.
After everything he had concealed, she had still found room for compassion.
His voice lowered.
“So am I.”
The flash drive was encrypted.
Nico took it to a trusted technician.
They left the terminal separately.
Cassie and Luca walked three blocks before the black SUV appeared.
Luca saw it first.
He grabbed Cassie and pulled her behind a concrete barrier as the SUV accelerated toward them.
Glass shattered.
People screamed.
Luca covered Cassie with his body.
The SUV disappeared into traffic.
Cassie heard his breathing near her ear.
Then felt warmth on her hand.
Blood.
“Luca.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're bleeding.”
A bullet had grazed his shoulder.
Cassie tore a strip from the lining of her coat.
Luca watched her tie it around him.
“You've done this before?”
“I have a thirteen-year-old brother. Blood stopped scaring me years ago.”
“You're shaking.”
“So are you.”
“I've been shot at.”
“Then maybe you're smarter than you look.”
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
It shocked both of them.
For one impossible second, surrounded by sirens and broken glass, Cassie smiled too.
Then Luca touched her cheek.
His hand stopped before making contact.
He remembered.
Don't touch me again.
Cassie saw the question.
Slowly, she closed the distance herself.
His fingertips brushed her face.
The tenderness hurt more than fear.
“Why me?” she whispered.
“What?”
“The diner. After you realized I didn't have the ledger. Why keep coming?”
His thumb rested near her cheekbone.
“Because you looked exhausted every night and still remembered how Marge took her coffee.”
Cassie swallowed.
“You noticed that?”
“I notice everything about you.”
Their faces were inches apart.
Then Nico’s car screeched around the corner.
“Romance later,” he shouted through the window. “Preferably somewhere nobody's shooting.”
Cassie jumped back.
Luca glared at him.
Nico grinned.
It was the first ridiculous moment Cassie had experienced in months.
Then Nico's phone rang.
His grin vanished.
He listened.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“The hospital.”
Cassie’s blood went cold.
“Max?”
Nico looked at her.
“Someone tried to access his room using Dr. Keane's credentials.”
Cassie was inside the car before either man could answer.
At St. Catherine’s, Max was safe.
But a nurse handed Cassie something found beneath his pillow.
A photograph.
It showed Cassie and Max sleeping in their apartment.
Taken through the window.
Written across the back:
GIVE BACK WHAT YOUR FATHER STOLE.
Cassie stared at it.
Luca took the photograph.
His face became terrifyingly calm.
Cassie looked at him.
“I want this finished.”
“It will be.”
“No.”
She met his eyes.
“We finish it.”
Luca understood the distinction.
Not rescue.
Partnership.
He nodded.
“Together.”
But across the city, inside a darkened office, Niccolo Moretti received a phone call.
“She found the ledger,” the voice said.
Niccolo looked toward an old photograph of his dead brother.
“And Luca?”
“With her.”
Niccolo sighed.
“That boy always did inherit his father's weakness.”
“What weakness?”
May you like
Niccolo smiled.
“Love.”
